The sound of tires squealing against asphalt rang in my ears – my hands shot forward to catch myself on the dashboard of the car, green eyes wide as they snap to regard the car which had nearly T-boned us on the right-hand side with a mixture of fear and anger. I was fortunate, this time – we had only just been leaving our parking lot. We'd not been going faster than ten miles an hour – the same could not be said for our potential aggressor.
There was an awkward silence as the two drivers – our cabbie and the other man – exchanged irritated looks, and then an uncomfortable hesitation as Jodie, the cabbie, and myself exchanged surreptitious glances. We all knew, but none of us wanted to say it aloud – the driver was embarrassed. We were embarrassed for him, but we also were simply thankful to be alive. But all of us recalled the ironic conversation that had occurred simply moments prior…
***
"Does this seatbelt work?" I asked in frustration, tugging at one end to attempt to snap the buckle in, only to find that it was not secured at the bottom. Jodie, having similar troubles in the back seat, echoed my query.
"Ah, no, you don't need seatbelts in Palau," replied Jules, our faithful cab driver, "everyone drive so slow, no one get hurt."
"You sure?" I asked dubiously, regarding him from the corner of my vision as I searched for some way to jury-rig the seatbelt. The people on Peleliu had said the same thing. Everyone in Palau would say the same thing.
"The roads so bad, no one want to drive fast. Is fine." He waved his hand dismissively, and began to pull out of the parking lot…
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