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Thursday, December 22, 2005
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O Starry Night
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The stars are decking the skies. There is a faint hint of purple in the night sky that grows more distinct as your eyes follow the horizon to the east where the sun has been set for more than a half hour.
Pachelbel's Canon plays on the CD player and the heater is making your lips dry.
Reaching for your Coke, you sip through the straw and a cool, sharp liquid fills your mouth. It helps to quench the thirst created by the salty fries that come with the meal you bought at McDonalds.
Daddy blows the car horn to scare away the deer and turns on the highbeams.
Passing the houses along the road, you view the Christmas decorations everyone has out this year. Some are really tacky. Those inflatable santas and the red and green glowing candles in the window. "Oh my soul! Look at that!"
Some are really quite lovely. The white icicle lights and garland strung along the eaves and porch of a big Victorian style home. "That one's pretty."
You take another drink.
Your feet are getting cold.
Flip the switch on the heater and suddenly the warm air is thawing out your toes.
Once a year, this event comes along. Just me and Dad. We go to Deptford to do our Christmas shopping. Of course we wait until the last week beforehand. It's more crowded at the mall, but that just adds to the fun. Usually, it takes a long time to find a parking space and even then we have to walk for a good ways in the cold to get inside. But this year, we lucked out. It wasn't extremely close, but I only had time to get cold before we made in to JCPenney's.
Onward we trek. Battling the enemy forces, we pursue our target. It is not long before I spy out the perfect color. Breaking ranks with my companion, I seek to further investigate this eye-catching shade of blue. Precious seconds tick away. Disappointed in my hopes of completing my objective, I look up to see my partner at the end of the aisle. He suddenly stops. He must realize he is alone. To the left. To the right. Then behind. A look is finally turned in my direction. A look that says, “How did you get there?”
Catching up to him, I wonder at the distance he had covered in the short amount of time it took me to step aside from the path.
Soon we were following a lead. The signs all pointed in the same direction. The contacts had told us to retrace our steps. When we reached our destination, it was still a hard quest. In vain, it seemed, we searched for the right size.
This was not something covered in our training, nor in or reconnaissance session before embarking. I had to contact home base. I talked to the man on duty and sent him into the archives. Into a dark closet and through several articles before finding the right one. A letter? No, I need a number. At last, just before losing contact with him, he found the information I needed.
After bribing a guard to let us escape with the objects of our mission, we departed from the enemy zone, only to cross the lines into another foreign country. We lost our bearings. Sure, I had been here many times before, but I had always entered by another route.
Wandering aimlessly through the country, we tried to blend in, yet still being mindful of the time, we had to hasten our movement. We had another mission to complete before leaving. Into a shop. A quick look around. Out again. Nothing was catching our eyes. Act casual, but keep yourself alert. Where would be the most likely place? Where were they hiding? I could only pick up a few things here and there while we tried to stay within the time limit. We had to be back at base on time. The clock was ticking. We had to go.
We charted our course back the same way we came in. We had left our transport outside. The biting cold hit as we made our way to the vehicle. Hugging myself to keep warm, I wondered if the base would allow a change of uniform on a night like this. Two-legged skirts are much warmer on a night like this.
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posted by cori
12/22/2005 02:09:00 PM
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Leslie:
Merry Christmas! It was fun to start this holiday reading about one of my favorite "father and daughter teams!"
Love,
Mrs. Horn
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Leslie:
Merry Christmas! It was fun to start this holiday reading about one of my favorite "father and daughter teams!"
Love,
Mrs. Horn