A Winter Night

Snow.

The flow of soothing music filled the van. WJNP’s contemporary classical music hour welcomed the flakes of winter as Jonathan Gaines exhaled a humble sigh. The tires spun with icy resistance as the rusted brown mini van continued down the highway. The Gaines family was heading up to see Margaret Gaines, Jonathan’s withering old mother two days after Christmas and the family’s morale was quite low. It had been three years since his last visit. Traffic was fairly minimal in part because of the merciless weather predicted for the weekend. This and John’s determination to hit the road before ten in the morning. His family had spent all of the previous night packing necessities, extra food, clothes, and personals. He was tired of driving but refused to take a break. "We are almost there," he would reply when his son would demand that they stop. The expressway was becoming more compact the further north they traveled. This inconvenience met with a hard slap of frustration to the steering wheel which disrupted his wife’s nap. She cocked her head in confused half-awareness then surrendered back into the confines of her pleasant dream.

John glanced at her briefly and looked up at the rear view mirror. His son, Daniel was transfixed, and gazed out the window at the wonders that passed rapidly by. They came upon a deer farm and the sight of the magnificent creatures widened his eyes. A slight smile cracked his flustered face as he continued into the gloom of winter traffic. His son was thirteen years and extremely adamant about not going up north. Jon tried, unsuccessfully, on several occasions to lure his motivation by offering to take him out hunting or go fishing with his uncle Mike. This only seemed to deter his son’s interest and he would quietly refuse the offer but ceased his complaining. Mother had promised to take him to The Vault, a favorite bookstore of Dan’s that was about 15 miles from his house after the trip. If of course, he promised to quit his bitching. His mother, Shelly Gaines was a sophisticated woman who was more career orientated than his dad and unknown to most, the family bread winner. This was uncomfortable for John who was raised with the conventional idea of how a proper family should be raised. His father still loved her despite her conviction at work and together, somehow, things that once seemed hopeless in their relationship, turned out to be all right. The brake lights on the van ahead flashed red as his dad eased on the pedal. "Son of a bitch," he cursed as his frustration mounted yet again.

Dan sighed and continued his reading while his father cussed out the vehicle ahead of him.. He hated leaving home and loathed his grandma and her strict, narrow-minded perceptions on life and secretly wished that he could have found an adequate enough reason to stay home. Then his mind began to reel backwards and he remembered grandpa. He had given him his camera before he died and Dan knew how much it had meant to him. His grandfather was an artist and a affectionate, gentle man. His grandpa was a dreamer. And so was he.

Hours passed as the boy fell into a shallow slumber.

The sounds of doors opening and voices from beyond the vehicle woke him. His door opened as he groaned. Snow flakes spat at his face as he opened his eyelids to the anticipated nightmare. "We’re here!" bellowed his father who was working on unpacking the back-end.