Christmas in New England by Jonah
This is a work of fiction so be aware that every character herein is also fictitious. If you think you recognise yourself, or somebody else in here - you don't. Some places, and some institutions in here are real, but the people attached to those institutions in the story are not. Most characters are my own creations, but some are the creations of another author. I want to thank Jacob Lion, in the USA, for his permission to use his characters in my stories.
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Chapter 11
It was actually not much after half past six on a frozen Ashfield morning when we piled into Yori's car. The snow felt crisp underfoot and crunched as we made our way to the vehicle. Yori backed tentatively onto the road and we made our way cautiously out of town.
Daylight was still some way off but the glow from the snow made darkness seem remote as well. We picked our way through the tyre-tracks to the outskirts of Northampton where we joined the Interstate 91 to lead us onto the Massachusetts Turnpike. Suddenly the road was clear of snow, though it had been built up on the verges. Our speed increased. We would be on this class of road all the way to Logan Airport. Another Christmas gone. Another farewell to the United States of America.
Christmas, a time for remembrances - for meeting old friends and family - for remembering the departed - for celebrating where the Now mingles with the Past. Well we had certainly done all of that and Yori, old as he was, had an eye to the Future too.
Ashfield held memories for me, probably best not disturbed. It had been good to meet Liam and Abby, but I dare not venture any nearer to New Haven. If Jake and Kori were an item now, my appearance on the scene would be as helpful as Banquo's ghost at the banquet. Careful Simon! Dangerously close to feeling sorry for yourself there. Perhaps I had been doing that all along. Maybe that was the reason I had never inquired after Neil or Peter. Were they still in Ashfield? Yori had volunteered nothing so I hadn't asked. Were there pangs of jealousy there? I glanced at Garret. I had no cause for jealously. Life with my perfect partner, and three wonderful boys was as good as it gets. In any case jealous thoughts are something to guard against. We all know where they come from, and a Christian knows how to deal with them.
My father, and then Jonah, had brought me up as a Christian. Given my Father's nationality I could so easily have been brought up in the Hindu faith. I had a Hindu name, so my ancestors were Hindi. Garret could so easily have been brought up to Buddhism, or even Islam. Did it matter. God loves the Hindu, and the Muslim and the Buddhist, and they mostly love Him in return. The Muslim has the problem of the terrorist pretending to do things in his name but, as a Christian, I never for a moment entertained the thought that the terrorist who murdered my father had any claim to the name of Islam. In the past, sadistic egomaniacs have done things in the name of Christ as well. The so-called Revd Esau Rathmore had been one of them. I remembered Garret's reaction to his arrest: "may he rot in Hell - in Christian love of course." Perhaps that last bit is too easy to say.
Chicopee, or the outskirts thereof. We were on the turnpike and speeding Eastward. I was not really concentrating on my surroundings - as you probably gathered from the preceeding paragraphs. Had I slept? How would I know. Anyway, this was America, and I loved America. I had come to love America, or was it her people that I loved? Well certainly I loved one American, though I had previously loved a different one. That's not what I meant though. There's a difference between loving and being in love. I learnt that as a teenager. and now I am much older but not much wiser.
If I were wiser, I'd learn to stay awake on long road journeys when somebody else is driving. At least I don't nod off when I'm driving - I hope. The large built up area to the left is the outskirts of the city of Worcester. That's miles into the journey. I'd no idea how far we were from Boston.
"Penny for them Simon," said Yori.
I glanced at my watch
"Forty minutes of thoughts is worth more than a penny," I told him.
"Pity," he replied. "I hoped for good mark-up when I sell them on."
Now that was what I meant. Good people who were comfortable with each other. Garret and three boys in the back had eyes everywhere and kept up a lively conversation. In theory, of course, my job in the front was to keep Yori awake and help him when needed. I hadn't done much of either of those.
In another twelve hours we would be home - well almost. Norwich airport is a little bit of a taxi ride from Norwich Thorpe Station, where Garret's car was parked. As always, we would still have good friends in the USA. Yori was family, but we'd still have good friends. That was how it had been for the last twenty years or so and I never ceased...
"WHAT THE...?"
"LOOK OUT!"
We appeared to be facing back the way we had come and were rolling slowly backwards.
We came to a stand. Yori's head rested on his hands, which were crossed on the steering wheel. I had almost uttered the expletive as I sensed the car going sideways. Lloyd had cried "Look Out!"
I could hear Garret talking quietly to the boys in the back
"Is everybody OK in the back?" I asked.
"Yes, all OK," replied Lloyd.
I was definitely right to be proud of that boy.
"How about in the front?" I asked Yori.
He raised his head slowly.
"Black ice," he said quietly.
"Yes, I know," I replied, "but are you alright?"
"Need new underpants, he replied.
There was no sign of other traffic so I said,
"Is the car good to go,"
"If we can turn on this ice," he replied.
Sure enough the road was like a sheet of glass.
"OK, dip your headlights and put on the hazard flashers. Put her in reverse and back slowly into that pile of snow."
Mercifully there was no other traffic about. Slowly we began to move backwards and toward the side of the road.
"Good, when your bumper hits the ice you'll stop, but keep your foot on the throttle. Turn your wheel to the right so that the front wheels are following the way you're going."
Well that seemed to work. As the corner of the bumper hit the ice-pile the wheels spun wildly, but the front of the car slid sideways.
"Now turn your wheel onto the other lock and ease off of the throttle."
We came to a stand.
"That's good. Now slip her into drive, kill the hazards and switch to main beam. Move off slowly."
Gently we began to move in the right direction.
"Keep it slow until we're off the ice," I cautioned.
"What if there is more?" Yori almost whispered.
"What if there isn't?" I returned. "If there is we'll do the same again if necessary."
There wasn't. I know there wasn't because, suddenly, it had become easier for me to stay awake and concentrate on where we were going. Now tell me that God doesn't answer prayer. OK, so it wasn't perhaps the answer that I'd have chosen. When praying to God, more than at any other time, you have to be careful what you wish for. In fact, since I....oh for crying out loud!
"Boston Logan Airport, Next Exit "
How did that happen? Am I to be condemned always to pass road journeys like that?
We were in good time and our baggage checked in, so Yori joined us for some breakfast.
"Will you be OK driving home?" Garret asked.
"It will be daylight," replied his father. "Take time."
We were all glad to hear that. It was only another half hour before our flight to Dublin, Shannon Airport, was called. We soon settled into the huge Airbus A330. Aer Lingus still operated a few older aircraft. It was probable that, for the short haul from Dublin to Norwich, we'd get an older one still.
As we turned from the taxiway onto the runway we paused while the engines were run up.
As the pilot let slip his brake and we began to roll it was once again farewell to America - farewell to Yori - farewell to Liam and Abby and the twins - farewell to Chris and Nesta and Simon - farewell to Ning and Mrs. Ning - farewell to Sam and Silas and farewell to you - for now.
Merry Christmas and, hopefully, see you again soon.
The End (for now)