Kiddo

He always called me that. Kiddo. Hey kiddo; how are things, kiddo? Got your work done, kiddo? I never minded. He was my uncle, anyway. My favourite uncle who I saw once a year since he started school (could barely remember him living in our hometown; always heading out for university and then overseas for work). When the Christmas and New Year’s break came, he would be back with us for two weeks, staying with his mom, my favourite grandma. We would see him for dinners when they came over or we stayed there for the countdown at the end of the year. That was the routine with us. And that was why I was so scared this year.

“You got in?”

That was in our kitchen and over the remains of Chinese takeout. My mom was looking over at us from the kitchen, prouder than ever to hear me go over this again. Dad was at work and he knew all the details. My brother, Steven, was already on the couch playing another round of whatever he found interesting on his Nintendo (I never played with it; maybe that was why I was doing so well).

“You got in. You really…” I thought he was going to choke on the ribs in his mouth. My uncle could eat a pile of them and not get full (the egg rolls and fried rice would do that). He wiped his hands, got up, and pulled me away from my chop suey. “You little genius! How’d you get so damn smart with these bozos in your gene pool?” I could feel the strength of his arms as I was swung around the kitchen, nearly missing my mother who was frowning at the scene.

“Let the girl eat her meal. She’s earned it.”

“Damn right!” I was glad that the spinning ended and he went back to his food. “You really did.” As he sat down, and I found my footing, I noted that there was that look on his face; the look that always gave away the thought he was about to share.

“Hey, wait… Why are they reaching you so early?”

“To give them a chance to take it back!”

“Shut your nose!” My nephew was still grinning over his line as I tossed a fortune cookie at his head (my aim was pretty good).

“No, look… You, two… Do they always contact you this early? The year hasn’t even started…”

“Yeah, they said that they would give out the scholarships before the next semester started.” My mom had finished with the glasses, moving on to the cutlery. “It’s done so people can get everything ready; parents and students can get things ready. And with the scholarship…” She could not stop smiling long enough to answer.

“Smart. I get it. Damn…”

He was looking carefully over his plate of dwindling food. It was almost as if the plan came to him in a moment.

“Well, then, we have to celebrate, kiddo!”

Mom put the dish she was holding down and just took a long hard stare at him. I could almost feel the invisible laser hitting the back of his head.

“Not today. Not tonight.”

“Why not? We did the same thing when I got into McClelland. It’s like the only thing we have as a tradition in our family…for those who get into the right schools!” He said that a little too loudly as he looked at my nephew. Appreciated by me, however, so I smiled.

“We have a tradition?”

“At least one. And I am going to get it going tonight.”

“No, Michael!”

She really was upset.

“Look, no alcohol in my system. No problem when the weather is still good. You want us to go out when the snow finally hits? All we have to deal with now is the cold. She’ll be fine.”

Now, I was a little worried. I could hear the game my brother was playing (something with a sword and dragons from the sound of it; something with a duel).

“Do I get a vote?”

“Of course. Here it is: your favourite uncle wants to take you out and give you your Christmas gift early because you got a brain between your ears and you knew how to use it. You want to go out?”

I was pretty much done and I just wanted to get away from my family; well, most of the family.

“Let’s do it.”

I got up, picking up the plates for the pair of us, and I handed them to my mother. And that was when I noticed that look. She was actually…scared? I knew her anger and joy, her disappointed looks…but this was unique. What was she saying with that look? What should I have said?

“Just don’t stay out late. Her dad is going to knock you out…”

“Yeah, yeah…” He was already by the door, looking for his hat and thick parka. “Just tell him what we got up to. Our old tradition.”

I kissed my mom and walked down the hallway.

“All right?”

“All right. Now, get a warm coat. See you in the car!”

He did not even wait for me – very strange – and I saw him run out into the dim light for the last time as the Uncle I knew and loved. I did not look back as I went to the door.

*

It was the middle to the end of December, but you would not know it. We had so many winters now without snow that I had not noticed how clean the roads were. Just a dusting of flurries that would probably disappear with the sunrise tomorrow. I was glad to bring the coat, though. My uncle’s Jeep was warm, but I could see feel the weather that the doors and the heater could not block. Ice had formed on the glass, and I wondered if there was any on the road. The traffic was light after 7 in our town, especially on a weekday. And I was glad to be in that car.

My uncle was totally focused on the strip of road in front of us. There were few traffic lights up here. The road, Lister Drive, counted as a part of a highway, so people used it to get to their exits and side roads faster than any of the main streets. I knew how often my dad used it to get to work and never thought about how it saved time before. But with my uncle, he seemed excited by the freedom of that road. We had very little traffic around as we headed west.

“We’re making good time.”

“What?”

“Nah, just something I hear people saying on trips, kiddo. Good time, like they want the trip to be over before it gets to be any good.”

“Right.” I was really wondering about where we were heading, but I did not say anything to make the ride any stranger.

“Okay, kiddo. You’ve got questions…”

We made a hard left.

“Um, yeah… Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” He was totally focused on the road. “Next question?”

I was looking ahead. There was absolutely no traffic or stoplights on the road. It was rather peaceful.

“Am I in trouble?”

He broke down at that, laughing hard and catching his breath when he responded. “Why would you be in trouble?” Another left was taken. “You have no idea how proud we are of…ah, there.”

I was not really looking ahead of us as he spoke until I saw his eyes light up and then I saw it: the escarpment. The one great thing about the city that made up for all of the other annoyances here was the view that you could have if you chose your spots and looked out on the city at night (specifically at night; never during the day). At this spot, I could see the roof of stars looking down on us in the winter sky. It was cold, but looking at that ceiling of light, I did not feel it. And it was even tricky to tell the line between that sight and the lights of the city, almost as if the town was competing with the heavens; the floor of man-made glow.

There was a parking lot that gave us a fantastic space to stare out at this. Not a single car was around, which surprised me. And it was quiet.

“What is your greatest fear, kiddo?”

I had to look at him as he spoke. My uncle was staring out at that pattern of light and seemed hypnotized.

“My greatest…?”

“Fear. What are you afraid of?”

Now, I was not nervous at all. He was my favourite uncle, remember?

The engine was still running, giving us some vibration.

“My greatest fear…”

I looked out at a part of the escarpment that I had never seen before, an area that was very different from the access roads and bus routes I had to take to get to school or work part-time jobs in the past. It was so quiet and beautiful and I just did not know what to say to him.

“I am…afraid…of what this school is going to do for me.”

He did not laugh. I could tell that he wanted me to keep talking.

He was looking down at his hands.

“Don’t stop, kiddo.”

“I wonder if I am going to be a different person…when I am done.”

There was a long pause. I looked over at him.

He was in tears.

“Hey, what…?”

“Thanks, kiddo. Just had to check and see. And I had to find the right place for it. Don’t mind me.”

He wiped his face with his sleeve and pulled out of the lot.

We did celebrate that night. There were more tears and then far too much dessert in a café that seemed to be on my uncle’s radar for as long as he existed (the staff welcomed him with open arms, or at least with smiles and laughter). We drove back later that night, to the curious gaze of my dad who looked at both of us and understood something that I was not aware of. They both laughed when they heard of the “tradition,” my mother remained unsmiling, but I did not get more out of them about my plans or what it all means.

Still not sure what I needed to know.