A person of Neshiyah
Tobiah Eshel, driver
Driver
Tobiah Eshel
Driver, about 77 years old. Born in Neshiyah, like everyone.
Tobiah Eshel drove the town’s single gray van, its fenders dusted with the pale chalk of the north road. At seventy-seven, he still climbed down from the cab with a driver’s stiff-legged care, one hand on the door frame, and he never walked anywhere without a destination. His habit was to leave the engine running while he delivered sacks of flour or a repaired plow blade, the exhaust ticking in the cold, so that anyone hearing the idle knew he would be back in a minute. He asked questions—about crops, about aches, about the fog’s thickness at dawn—and listened as if the answer mattered. The town saw him as a fixture, like the post office clock. He wanted to see the sea, which no one had. Near the end, he slept more, and people said he was asleep, and that was that.
Temperament
Curious to a fault; trusting, within reason; even-tempered; always in company; never still.
What people say
Tobiah Eshel believes what everyone believes: the fog is the edge of the world, and the fields need working whether it is true or not.
What the record shows
- day 36 Tobiah Eshel, the driver, died at 77, of old age. In their last days people said they were asleep.
Tobiah Eshel died on day 36.