The Bright Nights

It was the best of times, it was the… oh wait, that’s a different story. I should lead with a more original first line. It was the longest day of my young life.

My mother had woken us in the night, packed the car, and drove all night and all the next day. We had only stopped to use questionable gas station rest rooms and to eat the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches she seemed to have an endless supply of. I really wanted McDonald’s, but she said it was too expensive for all of us to order burgers, drinks, and fries. I had 3 younger sisters, Lucy, Maggie, and Sprout. (Yup my parents named her Sprout like a plant growing from the soil). I’m the oldest, Daphne. It was the 4 of us and Ma, plus our gray striped cat, Scrooge, traveling in a ‘99 Saab 95 wagon. The heat didn’t even work until we hit Ohio, where Ma stopped at a mechanic shop. She went to talk with mechanic for a while behind the shop, and said our bill was all set.  I don’t know what it cost, but she kept eating tic tacs like there was a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Where are we going, Ma?”

We all kept asking her.

For six hundred miles, she didn’t answer.

When we hit Minnesota, she said, “To see the lights.”

“What lights, Ma?” I asked.

“The ones up in the sky. You can only see ‘em this time of year and not everyone can see it. Couldn’t see it back in Dorchester.”

“But Ma, you can see it in Maine, I think,” I said, recalling a bit of information from a science class.

“Well, don’t you wanna go to Minnesota?”

“We never thought about it,” Said Maggie honestly.

“Well, think about it now, girls, because we’re here,” She said.

We were on edge because of the midnight journey cross country, but it seemed exciting to be able to get a view of the Northern Lights. Though we’d been traversing the United States for 23 hours now, I would say the real story starts at this point. Consider all that the prologue. 

From what I learned in sixth grade science, the Northern Lights were caused by highly charged solar wind particles that collided with air molecules in the atmosphere. It created beautiful colors and you could see them in Finland, Sweden, Iceland and Alaska. I did think you could sometimes see this in Maine, but Ma said we’d be able to see it in Minnesota. (Come to think of it, it made sense because we were up on the top of the states. I had only gotten a 78 in 7th grade geography and the topic of the aurora borealis from last year was cloudy in my brain.) 

It was nearly 3 o’clock at this point, so Ma checked us into a motel. It smelled like cigarettes even though it had “no smoking” signs all over the lobby. We got cokes from a machine! That was pretty cool because Ma never let us drink cokes at home. She always said, “it will rot your teeth and fill up your belly with bubbles.” We didn’t question it, though, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 

We all took a nice nap on creaky king-size bed. The pillows were too hard, but we’d brought our own pillows in the car, so we went and got those to sleep on. Ma put a chair in front of the door even though it had a lock. She said better be safe than sorry. 

When we woke up, it was dark outside, but we could tell there was a greenish glow. It was the lights! We all put on our jackets and went out on the little balcony outside the room. It had these wrought iron bars and old folding chairs, but I thought it was the nicest balcony because we’d never had one at home. 

My sisters were yelling, “The sky is all lit up!” 

I said, “It’s so beautiful.” 

Ma smiled for the first time that whole day. 

She said, “I’m glad you girls like the view, because I think we’ll be here a while.” 

“Are we on vacation?” Lucy asked. 

“No,” Ma answered. 

“This going be house?” Sprout asked nervously. 

Ma laughed, “Goodness no, but we’ll be here for a couple days. Then hopefully we’ll find a house. Well- probably an apartment.” 

I was starting to realize what was happening. It wasn’t about the northern lights at all. We were running away from our old home. I was 12, so I knew more than my sisters. Sprout was only three, Maggie was barely five, and Lucy was ten. Ma was trying to spare us from being upset or seeing that she was scared. He must’ve hit her- I decided. Our Dad got mad very easily, like if hot chocolate spilled on his pants, or if you were singing a song loudly, or if Ma burnt the chicken. Ma didn’t mean to burn the chicken, but sometimes if Dad was mad at one of us, it distracted her from cooking supper. He never cooked, he never did any of the chores, and he never took us anywhere. If we missed the bus for school, he would yell and kick the wall with his foot, then Ma would hurriedly get us out the door and drive us herself. She never said anything bad about him, but I knew she didn’t like to be yelled at. 

“Does he know where we are?” I asked. 

She kept her eyes on the swirling green and purple lights. 

“Ma…” I asked again nervously. 

“No, Daphne,” She said quietly. 

“Good,” I said emphatically, “I hate him. I’m glad we ran away.” 

She gestured to the girls and put a finger to  her lip, “Shhh. We don’t need to upset your sisters. Let’s have a fun adventure and they’ll only remember the beautiful lights and that we settled here to always be in their glow.” 

“It doesn’t glow all year, Ma,” I said matter-of-factly. 

“Nothing lasts forever, my love, but I want you to remember that when the beautiful parts of life come, they’re always sweeter than the terrible parts.” 

I hugged her and we stood there for a little longer. When it got too cold, we went inside. Ma got us hot chocolate from the cafe down the street and we split three cups between us. We watched  “Huckleberry Finn” on the Tv and Ma even got us chips for 50 cents from the front desk. We felt like royalty! Money was tight, but she never let us figure it out. 

It’s been ten years since we left Massachusetts. I’m 22 now and look forward to attending college. For my essay, the only story I could think of was the journey to the northern lights. It taught me the importance of looking on the bright side (literally and figuratively) and how you have to be brave sometimes even when it’s thrust on you. Ma wasn’t ready to be brave like that, but she had to be, she had to take us and get us all far, far away. I have to be brave now, because I have to leave her. I have to leave our circle of love and warmth, but I know that I’ll be back every chance I get. My Ma, my sisters, and I are like the solar particles flying about from the sun, mixing with the atmosphere of Earth to create the beautiful colors in the sky. There are seasons when we won’t be together, but we’ll always come back to each other, and it’ll always be special and magical.