That last statement was tagged on as if it was an indication for further conversation. I picked up on the vocal cue and went with it because I knew doing so would make him feel better. "How many children do you have?" I asked.

"Just the two, the wife and I wanted more but we couldn't afford the permits. - You have any luggage?" he continued.

"Just the one bag there" I answered.

"Excuse me," he said, as he moved past me to pick it up. "We might as well get a move on. `Cain't get nothin done jappin your jaws,' Mary Sue - that’s my wife - she likes to say that… Mostly she says it to me. She gets a bit tired of me goin on and on… Sometimes she's a hard woman, but she raised two fine kids for me." He continued as he started down the walk toward the cab.

I turned, locked the door, and started after him. While he put the bag in the trunk, I got in the cab. And that's when I really began to wonder where the cab had come from.

You would never see that fine a quality of leather upholstery in a Yellow Cab. - Leather so soft and supple it reminded me of an eighteen year old girl’s bottom – a nearly forbidden pleasure. And the interior detail work! The dashboard veneer appeared to be inlaid with real wood, as were the inner door walls and the knobs on the window handles: all red oak, recently oiled, judging by the appearance and the heavy aroma within the cab, while all the metal parts, the ashtrays, the handles, and the meter box, were made of a brushed stainless steal. Ashtrays! This vehicle was more than just another replica. Then to top it off, the inside dome-light overhead had a fixture of red tinted, frosted glass made into the shape of a rose. It was as unexpected as the cab itself, a truly unique vehicle.

I was still admiring the workmanship of the rose when the cabbie got into the car. I looked over at him and saw that he was smiling broadly. I thought he might say something but he didn't. He started the cab, and just before he began to pull away from the curb, he flipped up the flag on the meter box. Instead of ticking off the cost though, the display revealed the elapsed time only. From within came the sweet sound of chimes which played Beethoven's Moonlight sonata; perfectly pitched chimes, of an excellent timbre and tone. His eyes, studying me from the rear view mirror, were proud expressions of joy.

I'd been so distracted by the oddity of the cab and the character of the driver that I hadn't thought to ask where he was taking me. I like to make eye contact when I speak to people; so I looked in the rear view mirror when I asked the question. He didn't speak a word. But the expression in the eyes looking back at me was distinct: pained determination.

Feeling a little frustrated, I sat back in my seat thinking something like this: “One minute the guy is rambling, the next, he clams up - and none to happy about doing so. Obviously Gilbert gave him instructions not to talk about my destination.”

Without much to go on I resigned myself to a state of imposed ignorance. It was rather obvious to me Gilbert was trying to keep me interested by presenting me with a mystery. But Gilbert had an annoying habit of doing things for reasons other than the norm… - I knew he knew how to toy with me - just like a cat. I laughed inside.

Gilbert’s comments on enigmas and mysteries:
The major problem with an enigma is its time-space complexity. An enigma is a puzzle that requires one to set up a series of circumstances by which one can determine, from a set of resulting indications, which initial assumptions are most likely relevant and which need to be revised. These modified assumptions are then used upon another set of trial circumstances, and so on until the riddle can be understood by varyductive reasoning; unlike a mystery, an enigma’s solution is unstable in resolution.

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