Poetry The Warrior's Gambit Robert Scott   "Follow that Lincoln!" He says. He's about sixteen. Got a camera 'round his neck. Like a scene from a movie, I note, as I lean Back and forth, gaze in the mirror to check For the set. But there's none in sight. Two more camera kids get in at the change of the light. "Follow that car!" They repeat. "Madonna's in there!" "Right." I say, not sure whether to believe 'em, But I tell myself a fare is a fare As I cut 'round the old Coliseum To catch up. Besides, do I really care? And what's in a name? As long as I get paid, the money's the same! So I dismiss the motion to pursue my quarry Somewhere aware in the back of my head Of a nagging notion that'll cause me worry: It's rush hour, and instead Of dawdling with a single ride Going God knows where, I'd Rather turn over the clock. We stop. I lay it on the line: "I make my money on the drop, and all this is fine, but I want a flat rate; I'd be willing to stop and even to wait if that's what's required. But I don't make money sitting around getting bored and tired while the meter is clicking, twenty cents a minute, if you get my drift. It's the start of my shift and my night's at stake. And twelve bucks an hour is less than half what I usually make at a time like this." I press The issue, move not an inch when I see the light change... That's all it takes. By honk number six we arrange A deal to work straight Off the meter for the first fifteen. If there's a stop and a wait We do the hour routine: That's twenty-five for the full, thirteen the half, And equal divisions for portions thereof, And so forth and so on, and whew! Thank God that's done I think to myself, running the dialogue in my head as I gear Up for a little bit of frolic and fun: I pull up as close to her rear As hot is to boil... A surge of adrenaline fills me, I'm poised like a coil, Waiting to spring, to engage, to snatch my chance, As I set my senses on track and cruise For the motion, the dance, the link to life's rhythm and blues! Down through the fifties in a bump, grind, sail We weave a zig zag pattern along Times Square, Every inch of the way I'm right up her tail, 'Til I pull up beside her to greet her...and stare... But there's no response. Her windows are black! Her driver shoots me a look. I fling back my filthiest Warrior Hack! Now like uncoiled snakes we slide and slither Slipping the snags of the Garment Center mess. He moves, I counter, hither and thither, Who's ahead, who's behind, is anyone's guess. But just so you know, I'm the Black Knight, Champion of The Green, He's the White, protecting his Queen! Locked in a fierce exchange in the Herald Square bottleneck We get all tangled up in the crosswalk net. He scrambles for room, but I've got him in check, I'm as close to his bumper as water to wet... White's in trouble; he's got no place to go. The shape of the struggle is starting to show! Black's seized the advantage! White's options are few... His position is desperate, the game's about due! Black threatens Mate! Should White resign? Give up for dead? He's got time to decide while we're stopped for the red... That son-of-a-bitch! He went through the light! And again through the next, now he's two blocks away! I stretch and I crane just to keep him in sight... Do I hold? Do I take? Do I go? Do I stay? There's a buzz behind me. A ten drops on the seat. "Do it!" a voice says, as I spy the cop on the street! Where'd he come from? Where was he before? Do I take the ten now? Risk sixty later? Questions abound, confusion at the core, Stop all thought, shut down the blather, Leave it to instinct to exercise rule, Let fate decide whether I'm hero or fool! I take my chance and swallow the red Which of course is witnessed by the man in the blue. He's after me, from a trot to a sprint! I never said This was easy. There's only one thing to do! I swerve round a Volvo, I look left, I look right, I search for the green but it's nowhere in sight!... The car that's crossing is about to turn! Officer Blue at my bumper and gaining! I muster my poise As I floor the accelerator, take the second red, and burn Double rubber with a rude, nasty noise! Ha! If I could describe the look on his face As I left him behind to resume my chase -- (But the lights have turned green and already I've seen my foe's next move: The fork onto Broadway at 24th!) Searching for something to get me back in the race I glance left down 26th...It's green! It's clear! I bank on the Gambit, aware that I stare defeat in the face If I miss (three reds and you're out in this game). Spurred by raw fear I just make the light as it's starting to change Swing the sharp right, ease onto Broadway, and I'm back within range! Continuing the Gambit at Union Square puts me closer still! He takes the east fork on Broadway; I gamble and go for the west. Below 14th I spot 'im! I zoom in for the kill! Now we will see who's the best! He jockeys me around from side to side But I sense sweet victory, and won't be denied! But a cab stops suddenly short! White hits the brakes! I swerve right to prevent A smash. He sees his chance and takes The left side. Now hell-bent On escape, he creates a screen, Boxing me out with a stopped cab in-between! I counter with a whip into reverse, In a lightning motion move forward and left, (Knight to Queen check!) Acutely aware how it could have been worse: But for a move as slick and as deft As ever was made by a Master of the game, we would have had to surrender our pursuit of the dame! But now at full gallop, we're hot on her heels The only thing between us, her paid protector! And if you're following closely, you'll know how it feels To be barreling down Broadway, zooming by Astor, Your feet in the stirrups, your senses on fire, Smokin' the atmosphere, a real live wire! In a last-ditch effort to get me off her trail, He makes a swift sudden motion and cuts off a Honda; That's not good enough, 'cause I'm right on her tail! He makes another move 'round a Puttering van, narrowly avoids a left-turning mass... I dive diagonally accross two lanes and presto! I'm back up her ass! It's no use, the game has run its course. It's only a matter of time before I'm able to force It to a logical conclusion. I won't bore You with the series of stock Moves he made in taking me completely 'round the block Only to end up at the C Lab, back on Broadway, near Bond Where he finally gave up the fight. After a short pause, out stepped the blonde... A fetching sight! Striking a pose both sexy and sweet, Then immediately, six running feet, To capture an aura that has more or less captured Three quarters of the globe. What is it with her? Why is everyone so enraptured...? I'll leave it to those with a bent for analysis to probe Such a clinical question, whilst I continue my quest for The Green, And recall, on occasion, the moment in time, I pursued and captured a Queen! (Robert Scott, a New York actor and voice-over artist, performed excerpts from the Warrior series as voice-over for a documentary on cab drivers which aired this summer on PBS. He featured--performing very different work--at Carnegie Hall, with Lyric Recovery FestivalTM 2000.)