Grunt, snort, fumble. The car began to shake and rock – just a little at first, then more. Something moved outside the car window but with all that frost I couldn’t make it out. It was big, though. I occurred to me it might be a bear, but this was winter. Bears aren’t out in winter.
Before I had time to muddle all this out in my half-awake state, whatever it was went to the other side of the car – my side. With my last vestige of presence of mind I pressed the lock button on my door, only to remember I had done that last night before going to sleep.
A small space at the top had not yet been claimed by the frost patterns my breath had made inside the windows. Two intelligent eyes, framed by a wild mass of white, peered in at me and began knocking on my window, as if asking to be let in.
Frozen with fear, I made no move to respond. It walked back to the passenger side and tried the door. I must have forgotten to lock that one. It opened. The creature got in beside me.
“Here. Coffee and a sandwich. And turn on that engine, idiot, or we’ll both freeze.”
At my paralyzed stare he added, “I only wear the red at Christmas time.” He reached over and turned the ignition. “They call me Yeti the rest of the year. “ Then he grinned. “Don’t tell anyone.”
