Running Away From Christmas

   Running Away From Christmas

Suzanne Marsh

Uncle Silas made Ebeneezer Scrooge look like a philanthropist, or even Diamond Jim Brady. Uncle Silas hated Christmas, he had since he was a child, but no one ever knew why. No one ever had the never to broach the subject with him; I suppose. The worst thing was Uncle Silas and Scrooge became one in our family’s mind. This year I was elected to take him to the airport. He loved mountain climbing in the Himalaya Mountains in Nepal. He had climbed Mount Everest so many times the local Tibetans called him: “good business climber”. Once again, he was going to Nepal, he was leaving December 23, and planned to return January 23. I often wondered what it would be like to go to Nepal. Katmandu, and Mount Everest. Uncle Silas, spoke very highly of the small South Asian country. He loved climbing Mount Everest, the top always snow- covered. It would at least a week before he left, so I decided to give him a Christmas gift, unwrapped of course. I bought him a pair of electric socks, planning to give them to him just before he left.

The morning of December 23 dawned clear and bright, however there were dark snowstorm clouds ominously gliding in. The weather forecaster stated that there was a blizzard about to hit. Uncle Silas simply would not believe it, he was going to Nepal, end of discussion. I called him on his cell phone as the blizzard began to strike full force. The wind began to howl, it always made me think of a banshee screaming, Uncle Silas was undeterred, his bags and mountain climbing gear were packed, he was ready to go.

I got in the BMW and drove slowly toward Uncle Silas’s mansion. That mansion reminded me of something from either the Munster's or the Adam’s Family. The steps creaked; the doorbell is a sound I simply cannot describe. I stood on the door stoop, waiting for Uncle Silas to answer the door:

“Oh, do you come in my boy, your turn to drive me to the airport eh?” He was chipper, that was never a good sign.

“Uncle Silas, the airport is about to close down, nothing is coming or going out.”

“I know, my boy, that is why I plan to take a train to New York City, then fly to Nepal out

if JFK International.” I sighed then began once again:

“Uncle Silas, everything is closing down, the blizzard is already here, look out the window.

There is almost a foot of snow on the ground already.”

Uncle Silas was not listening to a thing I said, I knew I was talking to a very stubborn man. He began to carry his baggage down the steps, as he did so, one of the bags hit a rock and opened up. Out fell hiking gear, shoes, gloves, headgear you name it. I was dumbfounded, what was he going to do with all this luggage? I knew that trying to convince him to stay home was not an option. I quickly called my mother, Uncle Silas’ sister:

“Mom, he is determined to go to Nepal, I told him everything is closed down.” The phone was quiet for several moments, very long moments I might add.

“Son, I can try talking to him, but Silas is a determined man, he does not want to spend

Christmas here in Buffalo. Put him on and let me see if he will listen to me for a change. I hated to put my mother in a spot like that, but I had no idea what to say to him, apparently neither did she. I handed Uncle Silas my phone:

“Mom, wants to talk to you.”

“Okay boy, you just keep hauling my bags out to the car, I will be ready to go shortly.”

I lugged one bag out, then snuck back to listen to the conversation:

“Silas, you listen to me for a change! The weather is not going to permit you to leave by

train, out of Depew nor can you fly out of the Buffalo International. Are you listening? Silas

responded:

“Yes, I am listening, but I am leaving for Nepal even if Junior has to drive me to New

York City.”

“Not my car you’re not Silas!” Mom’s voice was getting shaky, that meant she was really

getting mad.

“Oh, stop being so melodramatic, he is a good driver.” Uncle Silas was getting testy.

Mom was becoming unglued:

“He is seventeen years old; this is his first winter driving, the answer is no. You

are just going to have to wait until the blizzard clears out.” Wow, that was the first time

she had ever put her foot down to Silas. Things were looking pretty good, or so I thought until:

“Silas, you listen and listen well, have Junior come how immediately. I don’t him driving my

BMW in this blizzard. You can come stay with us until the weather clears.”

Uncle Silas was not a happy camper, his trip was on hold, mom was angry, and I was scared stiff of driving in it. Uncle Silas, once again was on his cell phone yelling, I suppose at the train employee:

“Sir, if you will just stop yelling, I am trying to accommodate you, but I cannot make the train

move. The engineer would be most unhappy.” The person wailed. Uncle Silas yelled even louder:

“Look, I need to take the train so I can hook up with my flight to Nepal. I can’t miss the

flight. I wish to be in Nepal, they don’t have Christmas there.” This got the ticket agent:

“Are you trying to run away from Christmas?” She asked quietly. Uncle Silas became flustered:

“No, I don’t do Christmas, never have, now what do I have to do to get the train moving. I

can pay for an entire train if that is what it takes.”

There was silence on the other end then a strong masculine voice came on the phone:

“Sir, this Jim Robins, I am the supervisor, there is nothing coming in or going out

today or for several more days. The tracks need to be cleared of drifts before we

start trains moving again.” Uncle Silas contemplated his next move:

“Thank you, sir, for your honesty.” He hung up, and gave me a smile, that was never a good sign.

I could only hope he wasn’t got have me drive all the way to New York City in blizzard conditions:

“Boy, I know you don’t want to drive to New York City, so no matter how I slice this

I am stuck here for Christmas. Your mom suggested I come stay with her for the

holidays, so I guess I will take her up on her invitation.”

I drove back home at five miles an hour, Uncle Silas had a death grip on the arm rest, I had a death grip on the steering wheel, but we made it. Mom, saw me pull in, she grabbed her coat and ran out to meet us:

“Oh son, you are safe, Silas you old Scrooge, I am so glad to see you both.”

Uncle Silas got a strange look on his face, I could have sworn I saw a tear trickle down his cheek, as he embraced my mom.