Donald sat in the back seat of the car wrapped in a blanket to keep warm.  The blanket was dark brown with red stripes that made little squares.  He heard his father and George talking in the front seat but couldn’t see them.   Ida, George’s wife, sat next to Donald.  She was tall with dark black hair and red lips.  Her face was a powdery pale white like one of those funny actors who couldn’t speak.  But, she did speak, and when she spoke Donald saw the lipstick stains on her teeth.  They looked like smeared blood.

George was trying to convince Donald’s father to stop because of the snow, but Donald knew his father was very stubborn.  Once they got stuck in a snow storm.  Lucky for them they were spotted by a truck driver who got them to a safe spot.  Reckless.  That was the word Donald’s mother used to describe his father.

“The snow is picking up, Henry.”

“Just leave it to me, Pal. It’s like this, see. The snow and I, we’ve got this love-hate relationship, like an open marriage.”  Henry winked at Ida through the rear view mirror.  The look on his face made Donald uncomfortable.

It was getting dark outside.  Donald watched the snowflakes smash against the car window and melt.  He was happy to be warm in his little nest.  He pulled the blanket up around his shoulders.

“Are you cold Donald?”

She wasn’t pretty.  Her smile was fake.  Donald’s mother said he had to be polite but she didn’t say he had to be nice.

“No,” he said.

Donald rubbed his cheek against the gray material that covered the seats.  He played with the chrome ashtray.  He flipped it open and closed it again and again.  Each cycle resulted in a loud click.

“Don’t play with the ashtray, honey.  It’s annoying.  You might open the window and let the snow in.”

Did she think he was stupid?  He knew the difference between an ashtray and a door handle whether she knew it or not.

“The snow isn’t sticking, George.  Trust me, I can get us there tonight.”

Donald put his hands under the blanket and closed his eyes. He imagined he could hear the sound of the snow falling against the car.  It sounded like a little cat purring quietly.  He knew it made no sound at all but he could imagine what he wanted to.

“I think we’d better stop, Henry.  It’s starting to really come down.  Ballard’s is what, a mile or two away?  Not too far after that big curve at the top of the hill.  Let’s just spend the night there and wait this out.”

“I want to get all the way back tonight, Pal.  Hey, it’s Friday night.”

Donald opened his eyes.  He saw the scowl on George’s face in the rear view mirror.  He saw the look on his father’s face too.  He’d seen it before.

“Just leave it to me,” said Henry.  “It isn’t snowing that hard, not yet.  I’m sure I can navigate right through this.”

Henry spoke with confidence.   He knew George was right, but Friday night was his night and he wanted to be home where everything would be easier.

Ida lit up a cigarette.

Donald could hear the thumping of the windshield wipers as they battled with the snow.  Along the outside edges of the two front windows there was a line of white slush forming where the wipers couldn’t reach.  The slush grew and grew until gravity pulled it down the window where the wipers and the wind forced it out to the side of the car.  Sometimes a piece of the white goop flew back as far as Donald’s window before it careened off and down to the road.

“Don’t smoke, Ida.  You know it makes Donald sick.  Look, I’ll stop at Ballard’s.  You can have a smoke then.  I’ll call ahead to see about the storm.  Can’t you wait a few more minutes?”

“He’s not going to get sick, Henry.  You’re not going to get sick are you Donald?”

She took a drag on her cigarette.  A white cloud of smoke hung for a moment half inside half outside her mouth.  It floated up and spread out all over the roof of the car.  Donald pulled the blanket over his head.  His world went inky black.  By the time they reached the hotel, the smoke had penetrated the tiny gaps between the blanket and his face.  He could smell it.  The first puff or two of a cigarette smelled like damp leaves burning.  That didn’t bother him.  It was the putrid smell of the smoke that followed.  That always made him sick.

The road turned and Ballard’s came into view.   Henry pulled into a covered spot by the entrance.  George and Ida got out first.  Donald saw George whisper something to Ida.   Ida dropped her cigarette on the ground and made for the front door.  She looked different.  Her white face was flushed as if whatever George said had turned on some kind of switch inside her head.

“Jesus it’s cold.  I’m heading for the bar.  I’ll have a little drinky poo while you make that call, Henry.”

Ida was taller than George.  She charged ahead of everyone into the reception area of the hotel.  She nearly collided with a young man on his way out to help with the bags and the car.

“I’ll park your car, Sir, and bring the bags to your rooms.”  He reached out with his left hand, palm up.

“Don’t bother kid.  We’re only gonna stop for a few minutes, see.  I’ll just leave the car here by the entrance.”

“I’ll move it over to the side for you, Sir, if you’ll allow me.  Someone else might pull up.”

Donald didn’t think anyone would be driving at this hour.  His father was always the last to give up when the weather was bad.  It was completely dark. The snow was picking up.  Henry gave the boy the keys to the car with a disgusted look.  He walked past Donald, ignoring him.  Donald stood outside breathing the cold fresh air until the boy moved the car.  When the boy returned, Donald followed him inside.

Ballard’s was an old lodge with pine logs for ceilings and stone walls.  There was a hardwood floor in the reception area partially covered by a rug with oriental designs.  The rug was the color of split pea soup.  It was covered with brown and orange flowers.  Donald thought it was ugly.  He’d been here before.  After his parents divorced, he spent school vacations in these mountains with his dad.  He looked all around for the little dog he’d seen last year, but it was nowhere to be found.

His father was using the phone in the corner of the lobby.  He was a big man, tall and meaty like a bear.  Donald reached into his pants pocket and fingered a little white and silver knife.  He remembered when he got it from his dad.

“Do you have any change, Donald?”

“Sure dad.”

“Reach into your pocket and pick out a coin, any coin.”

“Donald pulled out a dime.”

“Give me the dime. Now, here, see. This knife is yours now.”

“But dad, it’s worth more than a dime.”

“They told me the less you pay for it the longer your friendship will last with whomever you buy it from.  I bought it last year for a penny from one of my business friends.”

“Does that mean that he’s a better friend than me dad?”

“A dimes not that much more than a penny son, and anyway, I don’t think it works like that. It’s not how good of friends you’ll be but how long your friendship will last.”

“What if you gave me my dime back and I gave you a penny?”

“It only works if you pick it out of your pocket without looking.  That’s the only way you can learn how long your friendship will last.”

 

Sea Gull Cellar Bar Napkin Art, James Maxwell artist

 

Henry stepped out of the phone booth.  He walked behind the reception desk and into the bar.  Donald waited a few minutes then followed.  His father was at the bar with Ida and George.  Ida was in the middle.

“Son of a bitch, George.  Looks like you’re right. The storm is getting worse up ahead.  I suppose we will have to sleep here after all and follow the snow plow out tomorrow.”

“Sounds fine, Henry.  Sounds just fine to me.”  George looked satisfied.  He liked being right.

“Hey, Tommy, get Ida another and tell your gal out front to give us two rooms, okay?”  Henry was good friends with the bartender.  Tommy owned Ballard’s and Henry owned the Rainbow Lodge across the valley with his partners George and Ida.

“I’ll getcha two doubles and I’ll have them put a twin in one for the kid.  We’re only serving dinner til eight tonight.  Keep that in mind if you’re hungry.”

Henry looked at Ida.  He smiled at her in a way that made Donald uncomfortable.  It was seven o’clock.  Henry turned to check on Donald.  Donald was rubbing his hands over the thick glass that covered top of the jukebox.

“Come here Donald.  Say hello to Tommy.”

Donald walked in their direction.  When he reached the bar he saw Tommy’s big nose, black mustache, and bald head peering over the bar.  Tommy wore a sparkling white apron.

“Hello Mr. Hamilton.”

“Stand up straight, Donald, and put your shoulders back.  Slouching causes curvature of the spine.”  Ida was always on him.  Donald hated that.  He stood up a little straighter and tried not to smirk.  Polite, he thought.  I’m supposed to be polite.

“Hello Donald, it’s good to see you again.  Would you like a cherry coke?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

Tommy squirted some cherry and chocolate syrup into a glass, added ice and topped it off with Coca Cola.  He dropped a big red cherry into the glass.

“Here you go Donald and here’s a couple of quarters for that old jukebox.”  Tommy handed him two quarters over the bar. The hair on Tommy’s fingers was thick and black.  Donald wondered if the hair on Tommy’s chest was the same.  He wondered how some men could be bald but have hair all over the rest of their body.

“Thank you, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Listen Donald, I’m going to have a couple of drinks with George and Ida and then we’ll all go in and get dinner. Okay?”

“Sure dad.”

Donald walked back to the jukebox and put a quarter into the slot.  He picked his age, D7, even though he didn’t know the song.  Then, he picked two more without even looking.  He waited for the mechanism inside the jukebox to swing back and forth and find the right songs.  He went and sat at the table by the window farthest away from the bar and looked out into the darkness.  The music came on.  It was C’est Si Bon by Eartha Kitt.  Henry was talking with Tommy.  Ida and George moved down to the end of the bar.  It looked like they were arguing.  No one was listening to the music.

Donald retrieved the knife from his pocket and put it on the table.  It had two blades, one smaller than the other.  There were little indentations on the upper part of the blades to open them.  He opened and closed the blades a few times.  Then he used the smaller one to clean his finger nails.

When he finished his coke, he took the glass back to the bar and sat it on the counter.  The last song had finished.  He kept the second quarter in his pocket for later.

“Can I walk into the lobby by the fire dad?”

“Make sure you stay in the lobby, Donald.  We’ll be out for dinner soon.”

“How was that coke Donald?”

“Great, Mr. Hamilton. Where’s the little dog?”

“Oh.  That dog, yea.  I think a mountain lion got him.  We tried to keep him around the lodge but he liked to wander.  A few months ago he took off and never came back.”

“Maybe somebody just took him away,” suggested Ida pointing at Donald with her head.  Henry and George laughed.

“Oh yea, that could be.  You’re probably right.  There were some people staying here at the time he left.  I remember they liked him a lot. I’ll bet they took him away and gave him a good home.”  Tommy winked at Henry.

Donald walked into the lobby.  They all thought he was stupid, but he wasn”t.  He wondered what it felt like to be eaten by a mountain lion.  He had never seen one up close.  His father killed one once that hung around Rainbow and had it stuffed.  Donald fingered the knife in his pocket.

An older couple walked out of the dining room and up the stairs. The girl behind the desk looked up at them.

“Good night Mr. and Mrs. Randall.  I had the attendant take up the extra blankets you requested.  I hope you sleep well.”

Halfway up the wide spiral stairway, Mrs. Randall stopped.  Donald thought she looked like his mother.  She wore a gray dress with a black shawl wrapped around her shoulders.

“Thank you miss, I’m sure we will.”

Mrs. Randall smiled at Donald before she turned and followed her husband up the stairs.

Donald missed his mother. He wished his parents would get back together.  His dad once told him that they might.  But, he didn’t ever mention it again.

The girl at the desk studied him closely as if she were surprised he was there.

“Does your dad know you’re out here?”

“Yep. He asked me to get something out of the car.”

She looked surprised but didn’t argue with him.

“It’s cold out there, don’t be long.”

Donald turned away and went out the front door.  It didn’t seem so cold.  When he got outside the covered area where the cars were parked, his feet made little tracks in the snow.  It was building up on the cement walkway.  He walked along looking in the windows of the dining room.  The snow was steady but not heavy.

Inside there were candles burning on the tables.  A waiter stood by two guests.  It was dark outside.  They couldn’t see Donald.  He waited awhile, watching.  Then he walked along the snow covered walkway.  The snow looked soft but it wasn’t.  It made little crunching sounds as he walked along.

He came to a storage shed at the end of the walkway.  He tried the door but it was locked.  There was a roof over the door and a dry place for him to sit.  He sat down and leaned against the door and went to sleep.

“Is must be time for dinner,” said Ida.  Ida and George were standing next to Henry who was talking with Tommy about slot machines.

“Sure, they’re illegal, but those goons, told me if I didn’t take them they’d come back and burn the place down.”

“Christ!  We’ve got to do something about this Tommy.”

“Where’s Donald?” asked Ida as she cozied up to Henry.

“He’s somewhere in the lobby.”

“Listen, Henry, it’s Friday, right?”

“Sure is!  We still on?”

George walked away.  Tommy’s blue eyes sparkled.  Ida’s look was inconclusive.

“I’m not talking about that. The point I’m making,” said Ida with her dark eyes opened wide, “is that Donald can’t eat meat, remember? So, don’t torture him about it.  I’ll help him order something appropriate.”

“Oh Christ, that Catholic nonsense. You know what they say Tommy, a child raised Catholic through age seven will never get over it.”

Tommy laughed.

“Don’t say anything to him, Henry.  You know he’s sensitive about it.”

“Okay, okay!  Go on in.  I’ll find him and join you.”

George and Ida went into the dining room through the bar entrance.  Henry walked into the lobby.  Donald was no where in sight.

“Say, have you spotted my boy around here?”  The girl behind the desk was doing her nails.  It took her a minute to respond.

“He came through here awhile ago.  Said you asked him to get something out of the car and out he went.  Come to think of it, I didn’t see him come back.”

“My God, it’s freezing out there!  You should have kept an eye on him.”

The girl shrugged her shoulders.

“I … I thought he came back in when I was helping in the dining room.”

Henry ran outside.

“Donald!  Donald!”

No answer.  Henry walked around the cars and then over to the windows of the dining room.  He saw Ida and George sitting inside with their menus.  He spotted the tiny footprints in the snow along the walkway on the side of the lodge. The snow was picking up again.  He followed the footprints all the way to the shed where Donald was still sleeping.  Donald’s hands were inside his coat sleeves and the collar was up over his head.

“Donald!  Donald!  Wake up.  Are you all right?”

Still half asleep, Donald poked his head out from the coat and looked surprised to see his father.

“Huh?”

“I said, are you all right?”

“Yes dad.  I don’t like that woman.”

“Who?  What woman?”

“Ida.”

“Donald, Ida loves you.  Don’t say that.  Why on earth would you say that?”

“Do you remember when we came here last time?”

“Sure, last year.  So?”

“I slept with that little dog?”

“What?  No, I don’t think so.”

“Yes dad. The little dog licked my face when you left the room.  George came in.  He slept in your bed.  George slept in your bed all night.”

“What?  No, I …”

“I didn’t tell mom.  She doesn’t know.  You can still get back together.  You want to, don’t you?”

“What?  We’ll talk about that later.  Now, come on.”

“I don’t like her, dad.  I don’t like her!”

“Donald, get up.  Let’s go back inside.  It’s freezing out here.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Do it for me, Donald.  It’s too cold to stay here all night, son.  I’ll order up some dinner and have it delivered to our room.  Fish, okay, it’s Friday, see, I know.  You can sleep with me in the big bed and I’ll read the cartoon section to you.”

“Alley Oop?”

“Sure Pal, Alley Oop, and all the rest too.”

“And, we can watch TV after til we go to sleep?  And, you’ll stay all night?”

“Sure, of course.”

“Okay.”

The snow was intense. It fell in thick white swirls.  Donald could hardly see the lodge.  His legs were stiff and he nearly slipped when he tried to walk. He went first.  Henry followed.  They were like two ghosts walking in a fog.

Donald wanted to step in his old footprints, but they were covered up in new snow so he had to guess where they had been.  It was tricky trying to relive the past.  It was even trickier trying to change it.  He stopped and closed his eyes.  Suddenly his father pulled up alongside him.  The dog was there too.  It turned bright outside.  They walked back together, arm in arm, singing songs.