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"The Red Sled"

Annie and I were going to surprise Dana for Christmas. This had been a plan in place for four decades, never resolved. Living in different states; Physically, emotionally and economically, it had always made it very difficult to meet at this time of year. Now that I was diagnosed with my second case of breast cancer, I thought it might be a good time to give the "plan" a Herculean effort.

My first fight with breast cancer turned out well. The only reminder of those days spent in the terror of radiation, were a few scars and a cup of reduced support. However, ten years later, my options were much more limited. I did not plan to tell her right away. I thought I'd wait until after the holidays. Right now I felt a childish need to be close to my sister, and to experience all those same sights, smells and sounds that kept my spirit alive for so many years.

My dog

Annie was seated with a gun, tied to her seat belt. I could not help but smile every time I looked to my right and I noticed his eyes spinning around - looking at the fast flying stage - as intensely as any bird dog could, just before entering 'point'. She and I had split a Slim Jim and a bag of Cheetos at our last gas stop. He still had Cheeto crumbs stuck to his mustaches, and his big smile exposed an orange tongue.

Annie had just stopped grinning at the sounds of the "huge" drops of snow a few miles away, now she was enjoying herself. We were doing everything we could to overcome the blizzard conditions ahead. Annie thought we were in search of "snow birds"; Delighting in its disappearance in the curve of the protective bubble in which it was flying.

My two-year-old black daughter was a shy girl; Hooked on the pound the very day she was scheduled to be euthanized. It had been abandoned, and it took more than a year to regain the confidence it had lost for humans. Now our marriage was solid, and she meant more to me than most people would understand. I hoped that his Aunt Dana was so busy playing with me at the door that she would not pay much attention to the seventy-five kilos of lap dog that lurked behind me when we made our entrance. Annie was just heading to the kitchen (at the sign), while Dana and I were finishing a little sugar powder, and I could introduce them. That was our plan.

In fact, having no children, Dana had always treated my dogs as if they were as special as her nephews and nieces. Over the years he had always included carefully wrapped gifts for each of them, in his beloved Christmas boxes that were stuffed to the brim with baked goodies (ETA ... last second - FED EX - Christmas Eve). Annie was now wearing her "special occasion", a pink diamond collar. She looked awesome! He had spent more time packing his suitcase, which had mine. It included such things as: (Always a big hit at family gatherings, I imagined), his brush and a pig called "Hog" whose cotton bowels were wildly ripped from his gut within an hour of receiving it last year. (After submitting to his superior position in the pack, the old "Hog" became his confidant and trusted friend). Annie's shiny suitcase matched her neck ... pink ... studded with rhinestones.

The sky was rapidly becoming the sinister gray, only an experienced Midwesterner can identify as both: extremely exciting and dangerous at the same time. The wet snow had taken on a colder form as temperatures began to fall. This made the driving treacherous, as the icy rain created patches of black ice; Hidden under the fresh eddies of dry snow. I decided to get off the highway, when snow on my head lights, started playing with my INA (internal navigation system), creating a hypnotic trance. I knew this maneuver was dangerous: my mind threw itself into a macabre action scene, with cars launching at me from all directions, turning the serene white peace into a bloodbath of twisted metal ... Glass fragments that covered The road for miles and the "jaws of life" unable to distract me from a single piece. (Obviously, I could have chosen a better time to lower my Valium).

As it happened ... most of the traffic had drifted aside, waiting for this to happen. Having lived in this part of the country in a previous life ... I knew that it would not happen anytime soon.

I had just left Wyoming behind me when I shot past my I29 S exit, which would have taken me to Sioux City and Lawton. I felt more confident now, as I kicked my four-wheel drive option. I went back out on the road and went back to the hunt; Chasing snowflakes and looking for the lost exit of ours.

I drove for half an hour, and I was sure I had passed the exit signal again. Annie was starting to be hungry, and the progressive darkness was starting to make driving even more of a challenge. Frustrated and tired, I turned to the first rural road I noticed, which had lights in the distance - hoping we would find a small burger. (Annie thought burgers were the world's way of thanking dogs for being so cute). The distant lights turned out to be an old silo. I supposed we were a million miles from any form of civilization, when I shook the wheel and kicked my foot. I did not see the ditch ahead.

My first thought in panic as we dived along the road was that Annie would not get her burger. I heard a loud groan from my right - then everything turned black.

I woke up with my body wedged against the steering wheel. My seatbelt saved me from a long encounter with the windshield. The back of my head hurt, but everything else seemed fine.

From what I could see, we were nose-down in a huge drainage ditch filled with snow plowed yesterday. I recovered my wits and looked to my right. My whole world turned black. Annie was twisted at an unlikely angle, while she was dangling from her seat belt; Toes touching the board. His little orange, lolling-tongue was still hanging from his mouth, but the smile was gone. I walked over and turned my head towards me. His brown eyes were filled with pain, but there were no visible signs of blood. I worked to break free, and I felt the blood flowing from the back of my head. The collar of my coat was soaked, but it did not hurt much, so I started working to free Annie. My work area was small.

As gently as I could ... I pushed her into a lying position - on her side - on the cold windshield. The car was almost completely submerged and the doors did not move. The heater was not working, and a try at the windows told me the electrical system was filmed. I was the last human being in the 'cell phone conspiracy', so I did not have one. All this added to one thing: we would die of cold if no one went down this road during the long Christmas weekend.

Everything from the back seat had found its way in advance. My circulation had always been terrible, so my feet and legs were already freezing. I gave God a little "thank you" for reminding me to throw a small carpet in the car before taking off. I slipped under my tight body and lifted Annie's head enough to cushion her from the hard, cold glass. I looked in the glove compartment and found a roll of paper towels. I crushed him and slid him under his rump. Every movement made her whimper. I felt a faint sensation when I looked at her.

It is ironic; Things that enter into a confused mind - a mind that should deal with matters so closely related to life and death. In this case; I found myself wandering for a winter in New York, when I was eleven and Dana was twelve years old ...

Someone had given us a bright red sleigh for Christmas. He was leaning against the wooden steps of our trailer; That a Christmas we spent in Cornwall. My stepfather had just been transferred to Vietnam ... I had not left him. We all thought this was probably a gift from my mother's new, secret boyfriend. A bright red bow tied neatly and professionally around the front rudder, told us this was a gift from someone "special". My mother was never home, and she missed Christmas altogether. Our wild imagination came to the conclusion that his new love was "the Italian mafia," and perhaps he was holding her hostage. The sled could have been hers, but we did not have that kind of money. The mysterious mafia of the people.

I do not remember opening another gift that year. I remembered our rush to get dressed, like the four of us scrambled to try out the new red sleigh on our first snow. There were sleigh bells tied behind our backs, and every time we flew up a hill, the bells rang. I also remember that he was the only one of four children who had a wet, frozen shell that had to crawl home every time we took the sled. Dana always felt sorry for me, and as much fun as she could have been having - when she started whining - would drag me home.

We were a nightmare of four ill-equipped California transplants; With a sled. But in spite of the agony of frozen fingers and toes bitten by frost, the snow remained a novelty for all the winter we were there. Dana never complained about dragging me home; Sleigh bells ringing all the way.

The days leading up to that Christmas were spent trying to stay warm in our rusty, fifty-two-foot trailer with a small heater. The food seemed a treat, and a box of "Krapt" macaroni and cheese made for us our Christmas party. We had tablespoons of sugar for dessert. Dana and I took turns scaling the side of the trailer to adjust the antenna, so the four of us could see "Rudolf" and "A Charlie Brown Christmas", something other than static in black and white. We all hugged each other on the couch and tried to pretend it was what all normal kids did at this time of year. We also walked Bobbi and Ricky around the rest of the trailer park each night. We gazed at the windows of the beautiful decorated trees with flashing lights and lots of gifts. I do not remember feeling sorry for any of this back then. Children have a way of reveling in almost any situation. The memories even made me feel hot now.

I'm pretty sure it was that same "mysterious sled" person, who always left half a gallon of milk on the porch each morning. Occasionally there was a box of "Captain Crunch" or a loaf of white bread "Rainbow". This became a game for us ... we loved opening the door in the morning to see what was there. We drank milk avidly, cereal or not - before walking in all directions through the snow to our different schools.

My older sister had not been seen in weeks. She had stopped going to school and was living with her boyfriend Mark. With my mother he left all the time ... Dana was in charge. Dana was robbed quite a lot of her childhood, trying to take on the demanding role of family Matriarch that year. I thought about that now (while looking at the dog I planned to leave), and I felt selfish ... Why would I ask him to give up more of his life for me? The answer came too fast - I knew I would.

I always thought I was the weak in our family of five children. Dana sensed it, I'm sure. At that very early age of 12, she developed a nutrition instinct similar to a mother hen. My younger brother, sister and I were her, eh ... "brood". He wanted to get back under his wing. She had always loved me enough to take my hand, and walk through that brightly lit, trailer-park of life ... point out all the beautiful trees, and even drag my frozen ass house into a little red sled -, Saving my life on more than one occasion). She and I had gone our separate ways, but through all the years, and all the physical barriers that kept us apart ... we maintained a bond of love that dissolves all barriers. Love like that has no words to describe its depth. Such love never doubts itself. It can change shape, but it never disappears. I knew it in my heart. Whatever my future was ... I was safe with Dana ... and I hoped she would love Annie.

After Dana took over, those strange and deformed years acquired a small sense of structure, but my Christmas memories are what I most appreciate.

Santa never missed the rounds at our house. I never wanted to admit that I knew Santa had long blond hair and big blue eyes - he could not come - but she did all of it; Burning cotton to make it look like Santa had come through the radiator, (since we never had a fireplace) -to put deer, hoof marks on the steps of the front door. I could even turn a brown paper bag into a chain of smiling gingerbread boys, to hang from our tree. Our "tree" was usually a clumsy little trick of a thing, generously donated by any local tree dealer who felt sorry for us. With pieces of ribbon tied in bows, and a star of cardboard and glitter-and-glue ... Well, I've never seen more beautiful trees in my whole life since. I never knew where he found the little pieces of money to buy the candy, the cats and the balls of pallets that fell on the ground from our stockings. The toe was always stuffed with a tangerine.

I was peeling a tangerine now - found lying next to me in the wind shield, like a little orange ghost of the past. I watched the slow motion of the sweet spray of the fruit, which was placed in a bright mist in Annie's hair.

My head had not stopped bleeding, and now the whole back of my coat was wet and sticky. I could actually smell the blood. I was getting dumb, but I needed to be alert in case I heard a car. My humming of old carols had taken on a mysterious, dark edge ... like a twisted funeral buzz. I made a mental note to try to remember how it sounded. I liked it - in a sick way. I sat helpless, waiting for a sound of any kind. I wore the sticky and mixed smell of tangerines and blood. I decided I could not eat my tangerine.

It was dark now with only a faint glow of the lights near the silo. I watched - in silence now - as the snow completely covered the back window of my car. I should have been terrified. Instead, my mind was far away ... up and down the steep snowy slopes of our Christmas in Germany ...

My father had returned from Vietnam, and the tour had taken a heavy toll on our family. His drink had increased dramatically, and robbed him of the jovial, life-loving spirit that we had all fallen in love with. He had seen a world that does not allow laughter; Of any person with conscience. He was always tense and angry. Obsessed. It was everything, except the person who had left us a year ago.

I suspected that my mother had married him to help support his five children. She used to show a "fondness" for him, but I was sure it was all for the sake of us children. When she received her march orders for Viet Nam - she broke - she began to look for someone else. He found someone who loved her, but he did not necessarily want to have an entire family. She delivered us.

Christmas, that first year in Germany was spent trying to understand what had happened to the "mom" and "dad" we had lost. My parents were back together, but both were constantly sick. I imagine it was mainly due to the stress and heartbreak ... the endless cycle of alcohol abuse. When our house items finally arrived - months after we had - "red-sled" was the first thing I looked for. The only solid thing that could connect fun and happiness. The snowy hills were not far from our house, and we spent countless hours there. Dana, dragging me home after each exit.

We lived in an old gingerbread house that was visible, in the middle of Ramstein for the first 6 months. It smelled like the fuel we used, to fill our stoves. The streets were very "Dicken's". We try to ignore our parents.

Dana and I got together the first year to buy as many gifts as we could for the family, thinking that this could cure everything. A "mark" was equivalent to a quarter in those days. Our tree had real candles, and the small, perfectly wrapped gifts were everywhere. Dana bought me a pair of soft, warm gloves that Christmas. Nothing cured that year except my frozen fingers.

I grew up very fast and furiously in the next few years. The only thing that pulled me back to my last memories of childhood innocence, were the days that preceded Christmas.

Once we finally moved to our basic housing apartment ... Dana and I did a ritual of painting huge murals of Charlie Brown in the window overlooking the balcony. We were both pretty sure that this balcony would fall next to the building; If we had used it. His very critical eye would be watching as I carefully painted Snoopy's smile; so. He insisted on the exact number of lines to emphasize "happy" on Snoopy's "happy feet." We would have locked the whole thing in the snow-of-a-can ... just leaving a peek-hole to look through.

We also live near the forest. This gave us instant access to all the pine branches we wanted and we had the tied to anything that could wrap a rope around. We risked our lives with the wrought-iron balcony, which might have been mistaken for an old growth forest, by the time we finished. Brilliant trimmings and bright lights everywhere ... We were the envy of all the air-base (or at least we thought it should have been).

Those three years before Dana married, she and I began our "stepping" ritual at midnight. First, we would make sure everyone else was fast asleep, and then we would crawl into the living room, under the spell of conspiratorial whispers. Choosing one on the first night was not easy. We always had a steaming cup of hot chocolate (made from a pack ... had to be the kind of package), and the tree lights made everything soft and warm, and magical. We would use our appropriate "peeking-ritual" skills to dismantle the wrapping, and with the same measure of dexterity ... we would be involved again. We would do it every night before Christmas Eve, and even had to throw some ridiculously gagged gag gifts made out of wrapping paper, just to spend the full 24 days. When the tree dried and began to throw its needles, my childish side was also poured. I quickly returned to my free-roaming mini-adolescent character. Always looking for excitement. Always in trouble.

Dana left home a year before returning to the United States. That last Christmas I had to pretend I was an adult, and I did not care about Christmas anymore. Santa stop coming to our house, and the red sleigh never came out of the closet again ...

I had brought a thermos of our 'special' hot chocolate for the trip to Dana's. I knew I would be swimming with a fine silver crystal ... as if I had a furtive suspicion, this is what gave me the goose egg in the back of my head. A smile of wisdom crossed my lips as I thought about the effect of karma, and how they paid me for all those years of cunning. I opened the term; The smell was disturbing but made my situation seem ironically peaceful. I do not know why I ran the thermos under Annie's nose ... maybe I was trying to get her to respond to something ... it was starting to fade. I was also.

Annie's body began to lose its heat, so I went over to try to share more of the little blanket with her. I was pressed against her side - kissing her cold black nose as I rubbed my head. I was holding on as hard as I could ... so he would not get away from me. She still smelled like the conditioner of her bathroom two days ago. My eyes were dripping but I was trying not to cry. I knew that sobs would shake my head.

Once I let out the tears, I felt calmer ... almost too quiet. I closed my eyes again and my frozen arms hugged Annie even closer. I was swinging and humming my own crazy version of "I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas" now. It was Christmas Eve, and we were missing the Christmas caroling. We had always sang Christmas carols on Christmas Eve when we were little. Now Dana's house would be full of scents of hot chocolate and cookies. Hosanna and rows of smiling brown paper boys and gingerbread would be dangling everywhere, with their sugary counterparts caught by tiny fingers. Maybe "Snoopy" would be dancing there ... surrounded by canned snow - pine-branch bows everywhere. I wondered if she had shared our "peeping ritual" with anyone. I shuddered at the thought. I wondered what happened to the red sled.

In the distance, I thought I heard the faint sound of the sleigh bells. I opened my eyes and shook Annie when the sound came. She did not moan this time ... her eyes were starting to glow. With each last piece of my strength I shook her hard ... "I hear Annie's sleighs!" "Wake up! ANNIE!" I hear the sleigh bells ... Annie ... Dana is coming to take us home. "

*****

A distracted driver, in a red SUV makes a wide U-turn in the deep snow after discovering the lights - confused with a city - led to nothing more than an old silo.

A smiling Golden Retriever, sitting shot-gun, suddenly mocks his ears and complains as he looks into the ditch. The vehicle begins to decrease. The driver approaches to stroke the head of his dog, and assures him that soon they will find something to eat. The dogs' ears begin to descend as the driver continues down the country lane, onto the road. The snow chains of the tires, sound strangely like sleds...

Source/Credits:
Robin Loving

Thank you to read this post.

@swaticute