Bad Move

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Recommended: Parent conflict and child development

Less than a month ago a last minute decision made behind closed doors that were designed to keep me from hearing. I'd heard the argued-whispering for months coming from downstairs. I just assumed that my parents were finally going to get a divorce and were worried about how I was going to react. Everything would have been okay if that's what happened. Dad would be be the only one who has to move all the way out here and Mom and I could stay home. I would get to attend my last year at Addison middle school. A tear escapes my eye and rolls down my cheek. It's cold against my skin.
I stare out the window as light flurries of snow fall from the cloud-darkened sky. It didn't stop my crying, but the snow was pretty and gave me something to focus on for the next few hours. We've been cramped in this car for a day and a half already. The boredom drove me into the depths of my imagination where I battles dragons in raging blizzards and pictures miniscule snow fairies living on the flakes. The flurries pick up into thicker snowfall. Dad turns on the headlights and it makes me think of warp speed from Star Wars.
“I don't want to drive in this.” Dad says, “I'm gonna exit here.” As he changes lanes, someone blares their horn from right behind us as we're almost hit by them. Dad quickly changes lanes again until he's in the lane for the exit. We all take a deep breathe at the relief from the avoided accident.
Apparently everyone and their mother had the same idea to exit here when the snow started because the roads are jammed. Stuck behind rows of red lights, Dad quickly loses patience and swerves around the cars. He rides the fire lane and turns onto an empty dirt road. He follows that until we hit a gas station. He pulls to a stop there. ...

... middle of paper ...

...s town feels a little too modern to me now.
Soon, mom calls me back to the car. Apparently, a man stopped and offered to take us to the town's only bed and breakfast. We rest for the night, but I find it hard to sleep. My head is still busy with a tire that can blow up and a cowboy town that has cell phones.
By the time we arrive at our destination, Montana University in Missoula, two and a half days of traveling are behind us. Tomorrow is New Years Day and I'll be settled in our new home. When I think back on it now, after all these years, there was nothing really special about the car trip to Montana. It was just a blur of an endless stretch of roads and fields and clouds and time. It was the longest trip of my life and all I can remember is to fear blowouts and that there exists a cowboy town of 132 people, that's too small to get cell phone service until 2010.

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