Endless Winter Box Set: Books 1 - 4

by Theresa Shaver

  “Mom! Mom, are you ok? What is it?” I tried to help her back up but she just kept moaning until she fell to her knees.

  Her breath was a harsh pant as she raised her head and pain filled eyes met mine.

  “Sky, the baby…my water just broke!”

  Chapter Two … Rex

  “Rex, honey, can you check on Matty please?”

  I hear Mom ask me even over the sounds blasting my ears from the game coming through my earphones. My eyes lift from the DS gaming system in my hands for a split second to meet hers in the rear-view mirror before cutting across the back seat to my baby brother who is sleeping in his rear facing car seat and then back to the screen and my game. I grunt out that he’s fine before tuning anything else she might say out like only an eleven-year-old boy can.

  I have no reason to speak to her about anything. She didn’t speak to me when she made the decision to get divorced from my dad or to move us away from him and all my friends to a totally different province. Nope, nothing to say.

  It wouldn’t be until years later that I put scattered pieces of overheard conversations together to realize that he had left us for someone else and he didn’t want to pay child support, making Mom lose the house and forcing her to move to Alberta so we could live with my grandparents. All I knew that day was that she was ruining my life and I hated her for it. The only thing I could do to punish her was to ignore her. It was the worst day of my life - then it really got bad.

  I squawk in outrage when my game player goes black and with the silence of the game comes the silence of the van. Something’s wrong. We were still moving but it feels like the van has turned off. I lean forward in my seat and see Mom fighting with the steering wheel and jamming her foot against the brake pedal but we’re still flying down the road. My eyes grow huge as I see the cars ahead of us crash together and I know we’re going to hit them.

  “Mom, Mom, Mom STOP!!!” Screaming was the last thing I remember before the impact and with the pain came blackness.

  Silence, absolute silence. White flashes across my vision and something’s burning in my eyes as I try to open them. I struggle to lift my arm up to rub at my eyes but it feels so heavy. Finally, I get it up and rub at what I think is water blurring my vision until I can open them. Blood, not water, blood on my hand and in my eyes. Then the pain…ahhhh…it hurts so much! Blood, pain and silence, oh my God why can’t I hear anything. Look, look around, find Mom, find Matty. Oh man, are we sideways? Everything is tilted. Can’t see Mom. Matty, Matty is there! He’s almost underneath me but still in his seat and his mouth is open and I know he’s screaming cuz his eyes are pinched shut and his face is red with tears and…SOUND!

  So much noise, too much for my aching head! Matty is screaming and metal is creaking and people somewhere outside of the car are yelling and moaning and crying but where? Where is the most important noise? Where is Mom’s voice? Where is the most important voice in my whole world asking if I’m ok or telling me I will be? WHERE IS MOM???”

  I pat at the seat belt and look down around me and see that I will fall right on top of the baby if I unbuckle so I brace my feet against the seat in front of me and hold on to the armrest on the door before hitting the release button. Ahhhh, that hurts, everything hurts! But I hold on and pull myself up to the front seat and slide through them so I’m anchored. My breath whooshes out in relief, there she is. She’s against the door and her long brown hair is covering her face but it looks like she might have been knocked out like I was. I’m calling for her to wake up and pulling at the one arm I can reach but she’s not waking up so I slide further into the front of the van until I can just reach her hair with my fingertips and I pull it away from her face.

  Finally, she’s awake! She’s staring at the dash in front of her even though I keep calling her name and I think for a second it’s payback for me ignoring her but I know it’s not. I know what it is but I can’t, so I push it away and I beg because I need her to look at me. I need her to hear me when I say I’m sorry and I need her to say it will be ok but I know that will never happen now so I let it all go away again.

  Whimpering, someone is whimpering and it’s so sad, then a hiccup that turns into a cry and then Matty is wailing full force again. My eyes clear and I take one more look at her beautiful face before brushing her hair back over it. I pull myself back into the back seat and ignore the pain and ache in my chest to get to my baby brother. He has no idea what has happened and I have to help him. I’m all he has left now.

  I anchor myself against the seats and lean over his car seat. Matty’s face is tomato red and wet with tears and snot but he doesn’t seem injured on the surface. I rub his head and pat his leg until he opens his eyes and focuses on me. He whimper’s my name but in baby speak it comes out “X”, poor kid hasn’t even learned to say his r’s yet. I speak rambling reassurances to him until his tears become stuttering hiccups. I have to get him out of the van but the way it’s tilted will make it a huge challenge.

  I look past him and see long grass and weeds pressed against the van’s window so I know we won’t be going out that way. I also see his Sippy cup lying on its side near the roof so I grab it and offer it to him. His chubby fists grab onto it like a lifeline and he stuffs the spout into his mouth. I take another look around the back seat and spot Matty’s diaper bag so I snag the strap and pull it up and stuff it in between the seats so I won’t forget it. Looking up at the side door above my head, I reach up and try to pull it open but it’s stuck, locked. Stupid child locks mean I’m going to have to go back into the front seats and unlock them.

  I close my eyes and try to roll the pain out of my shoulders and neck but the ache isn’t going anywhere. For the next five minutes, I wiggle and squirm in between seats trying to get the doors unlocked and open. I force myself not to look at Mom and take deep breaths to push the pain and devastation back so I can get Matty out. No matter how many times I hit the unlock button nothing works. I’m going to have to break a window.

  I sit for a minute and try to figure out how to do that. I turn and look at all the van’s windows that are all intact. I’m not strong enough to break any of them. The only shot I have is the windshield. It’s still in place but there are cracks all through it and some of it is webbed in hundreds of little cracks. I want to kick it but the way the van is tilted I can’t stand up or lean on anything to get my leg up to kick without falling down on Mom. Tears of frustration build in my eyes. Where is everyone? Why hasn’t anyone come to help us yet? I know there were other cars that crashed ahead of us and we hit them but didn’t anyone survive?

  “X, X, X…Maaaaaa?” Comes from Matty in the car seat and I can tell he’s amping up again for another wail so I slide back between the seats and lean over him.

  “I’m here Matty. I’m here! I’m going to get us out of the van, ok? Just hold on and I’ll get us out of here.”

  His fat little bottom lip trembles and he pats at my face nearly poking me in the eye so I give him my best smile and pretend I’m going to bite his fingers which makes him laugh. “Be right back, Buddy!” I fake a cheerful tone and move away to the back of the van.

  The seats back here have been put down to make room for all the stuff we didn’t send ahead with the moving truck. It’s mostly suitcases of our clothes and garbage bags filled with blankets. Matty’s monster stroller and toys are in a scattered tangle. None of this stuff is going to help me bash the window out so I start shifting things, looking for anything I can use for a battering ram. I grab a small stroller wheel and pull it to the side before realizing it’s from the small umbrella stroller Mom uses when she doesn’t need the big one. It’s light and folded up, all the wheels come together. I might be able to use it so I pull it closer before looking for something else to use before giving up.

  The back window of the van is now clear and I can see out. We’re in the ditch and there’s nothing behind us. If I can get out of the windshield I can use the keys to unlock the van’s rear hatch and g
et Matty out that way. I slide the small stroller through the seats and up into the front before tweaking Matty’s nose to make him smile and then follow it.

  Before I start pounding at the glass, I get the keys out of the ignition and stash them in my jeans pocket. There’s a strap that goes around the stroller when it’s folded up to keep it from opening and I make sure it’s snapped closed before aiming the four wheels at the window. My first strike is tentative and does nothing. I take a stronger hold and give it a harder push. Some creaking and cracking noises but it doesn’t shatter and fall like I want it to so I start really hammering on it. I put all my anger, frustration and fear into it and on the fourth hit the wheels go straight through the window. The stroller gets hung up half way in and half way out of the windshield so I wiggle it back and forth until I can pull it back through and keep on pounding. I finally get a hole just bigger than my head when I pause to rest. Sweat is dripping down my face mixed with the blood from the cut on my forehead making my eyes burn again. There’s a box of tissues in the center console so I grab a wad and wipe away the mess and hold it to my cut wincing at the sting of it while deciding what to do next.

  Matty had started wailing at some point but I just ignored him. All I want to do is close my eyes and go to sleep. Everything hurts and I’m hot and tired. I shake my head; have to get the baby out. With all the windows closed, the van is quickly heating up in the late summer sun. I pull the stroller back towards me from the hole I had made and see how the glass sort of bends with it. Dropping my makeshift ram between the seats, I used the wad of tissue to grab the edge of the hole. I’m scared I’m going to get my hand sliced open from the glass but it doesn’t seem to be sharp. I give a tug on the edge and the glass bends towards me. Grabbing more tissue for my other hand I start to bend the glass back and forth until part of it comes away from the frame. After that, I stand on the console and used my shoulder to push at the window until it folds over out of the way.

  My head and shoulders clear the frame of the windshield into the fresh air. I take a deep breath and choke on the awful smell of chemicals and gasoline. The smell of gas is like a firecracker under my butt. I have a vivid image of the van exploding with the baby still inside. Our van is on its side with another car embedded in the hood. I stand on my tiptoes and try to clear the rest of the glass. I expect to feel the glass cut into my belly as I press against it for leverage but it just bends and breaks away sending me down onto the trunk of the other car. I can just make out a person’s head in the front seat of the car we hit but the blood covering the windshield makes me gasp and turn away. I barely catch my breath before I’m scooting off the trunk and down to the ground. I stumble around the van on the uneven side of the ditch and make it to the hatch. The keys work just fine unlocking it and the door comes up with no problem. Finally, something is going my way.

  My neck and shoulders are screaming in pain as I haul out the suitcases and bags. The monster stroller almost makes me sit down and cry. It keeps getting caught on stuff before I finally get it out of the hatch and out of the way. I’m so tired and thirsty, I just want to sit in the shade and go to sleep but Matty’s still crying. Using the side of the van and its windows as my floor, I walk in only slightly hunched over. The first thing I do is grab his diaper bag and toss it out the back. I finally get the car seat buckles undone and keeping the poor little guy braced so he doesn’t fall against the window, I untangle his flying arms and pull him over the seat and against my chest. When his small little arms wrap around my neck and his hot, wet face buries into my shoulder, I almost lose it. My own chest is hitching with silent sobs as we climb out of the van.

  The urgency to get away from the van fades as I stand in the ditch with Matty clutched against me. The slight breeze cools the sweat on my face and we just stand there for what feels like an hour. My feet finally move of their own accord and I climb the bank of the ditch. I need to find help but what I see up on the road freezes me in place. Wreckage, in both directions, nothing but crashed cars and trucks. Nothing is moving and there’s no sound but the wind in the trees and the tick of hot metal cooling in the wreck.

  I don’t know what to do. I got us out of the van and now someone’s supposed to help us. I’m only eleven, I need an adult to help us. My mind just sort of shuts down after that and we stand there beside the road waiting for what comes next. I don’t know how long I stood there but my arms started to ache from holding the baby’s weight and my throat was desert dry. I glance back to the ditch and think about moving to find some water and shade to wait in when something changes. The silence is faintly broken by the sound of an engine and it’s getting closer. Finally, someone’s coming to help.

  I stand there and wait as the sound draws closer. Matty even stops crying and turns his head in the direction it’s coming from. A pickup truck drives slowly towards us as it makes its way around the accidents that litter the highway. My baby brother and I watch it get closer and closer and my knees almost give out at the relief of someone to help us. It comes close enough that I can see a pretty woman with a horror-filled face staring out at us and as it starts to pass us, she raises her hand and presses her palm to the window. In the back passenger window, the face of a girl appears and she has the saddest eyes. She raises her hand to the window just like the woman in the front had. My hand comes up to mimic theirs in a small wave as I wait for them to pull over and stop. My hand hangs in the air and I watch in disbelief as they just keep going. When I can no longer see the truck my hand drops and my knees give out. I don’t feel the pain of the hard pavement as my knees crashed against it. The pain of being abandoned eclipsed everything else and I finally weep.

  I don’t know how long I kneeled there on the hot road but the back of my head is on fire from the sun and Matty’s patting my leg and babbling at me when I come back to the world.

  “Kay X, kay X? Dink X, dink?” was what I finally make out of his baby talk. I try to tell him that yes, I was ok but my mouth and throat were bone dry and all that came out was a groan. After rubbing the tears from my face, I painfully rise to my feet and haul him up onto my hip. I have to get us out of the sun and get some water into us.

  I stumble down into the ditch again and sit Matty in the grass. Shoving aside some of the bags I had removed from the back of the van, I finally unearth his monster stroller and get it unfolded and upright. I pull the sun shade canopy open and plop him in it before finding his diaper bag and getting drinks for us both. Once I can swallow without choking on the dryness in my throat, I go back into the oven the van is becoming and find my backpack. With my Saskatchewan Roughriders cap on my head, I scan around the mound of bags and try to decide what to do next.

  Matty has fallen asleep in his stroller so I climb back out of the ditch and look both ways. Still nothing, I don’t understand why there aren’t more cars driving through. With this many accidents, there should be ambulances and police cars everywhere by now. Shaking my head in confusion, I go back down and start to sort out our belongings. When emergency crews finally do show up, they will take Matty and me somewhere to meet my grandparents and we’ll need a few things.

  The first suitcase I open brings another sob to my throat. The smell that wafts out brings comfort and home. It’s Mom’s smell. Every hug, every cuddle, every soft touch comes with that smell and it now brings a sharp arrow of pain to my chest. Looking down at her clothes through a haze of tears brings her loss full center again. I have no choice but to gently close and re-zipper the bag and move on. There would be plenty of time later to think about her.

  I get everything I think we will need into one suitcase and drag it up the ditch closer to the trees where a slice of shade has grown. Once I pull Matty and his stroller up and into it, I sit down and close my eyes to wait.

  I have no idea how long I slept or what woke me up but the slice of shade we were in has grown and moved almost to the road. I peek over the side of the stroller and give a sigh of relief when I see Matty still sleeping. My sto
mach grumbles for food so I guess it’s close to supper time. Pulling the diaper bag open I start to search for something to eat when I hear singing. My head whips up and I search for where it’s coming from. The voice sounds like it’s coming from a girl and it’s getting closer. I scramble to my feet and rush down and then back up the ditch until I’m standing on the road.

  I stand with the sun at my back and watch as two figures skirt around the closest wreckage. It’s a tall slim woman with soft red hair that’s piled on top of her head. Holding her hand is a girl a few years younger than me and she has the exact same colour of hair but it’s loose down her back and it floats behind her in the light breeze. The girl sees me first and her song cuts off mid-word, alerting her mom who looks up and shades her eyes against the sun.

  I swallow past a lump in my throat and raise my hand in greeting. The voice that comes out of me doesn’t sound like mine. It sounds years younger.

  “H-hello?”

  They walk a few steps closer before stopping and the woman tilts her head and studies me for a moment before speaking.

  “Hello sweetheart, are you all alone?”

  I start to say yes but then remember.

  “No, my brother is over there in his stroller. He’s just a baby.”

  They both look over at where I had pointed and then she asks, “Your parents?”

  I try to answer but my throat closes up in sorrow so I just shake my head and look down at my feet. I hear them walking closer and then soft arms are around me and a hand is rubbing my back and it all pours out. The physical pain from the accident, the anger at moving away from my life, the guilt at treating her so bad and those empty staring eyes. I cry every tear in my body against that soft chest and she takes it all.

  When I’m finally empty and still, she pushes me back a bit and wipes my face with her hands and says the words I have been waiting to hear.