A Christmas Journey

Chapter 9

 Back at the SUV, the women were eating a late lunch, Amy trying to talk periodically and Sherri providing monosyllable answers whenever possible. Finally, Amy gave up and quietly finished her food.

Later, the pair started exploring the nearby area, as the snowfall had stopped hours before and they could now walk around. Still, only Amy was talking. Finally, Sherri broke her silence.

"Do you think Michael can make it?" she asked.

Smiling reassuringly, Amy replied, "Of course. I've seen him make it through situations just as bad or even worse than this."

Sherri still looked nervous and her thoughts now shifted back to more memories of her family, during happy years, such as the time when they traveled to San Diego, Sherri's first trip to the west coast. She remembered when her family had visited Mission Beach, walked along Harbor Drive, and went to the various theme parks in the area. Then, she grew sad, thinking how they would never enjoy a family vacation such as this ever again.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Amy began to point out that it was a wet snow that packed together perfectly. Sherri wasn't paying complete attention and moved a few feet ahead, not noticing Amy, who had knelt down to make a snowball. Before Sherri could think, she felt the impact on her back.

"Hey!" she laughed, starting to make a snowball to throw.

The projectile connected, just as Amy was throwing another one. The snowball fight lasted about twenty minutes, ending only when both grew tired.

Trying to catch her breath, Amy asked, "You've got a great arm!"

"Thanks. Before all this started, I had just made the girls' varsity baseball team at my high school." Sherri explained, after getting enough wind.

"No wonder. I don't think you ever missed me." Amy laughed.

A few miles away, Michael had fallen to the ground, unable to move any further because of the sheer exhaustion.

"Can't...do it. Can't...help...Amy and Sherri." he said weakly. Then, Michael began to pray silently. "Father...can't go on...but..they...need me. Please...give me the strength to make it."

Then, after a few seconds, Michael was able to stand and continue on his way. Finally, after a few more hours, he was once again growing tired. By this time, he saw a fence like that on a ranch, in the distance. Walking along the fence, he found himself getting weaker. The hours he had been walking almost continuously were finally catching up to him. After a few more minutes, he was almost ready to collapse. He made it until he saw a house in the distance. Before he could come within 100 ft., Michael dropped to his knees and then fell to the ground.

A short distance away, Jane Pederson was looking out a window in the living room. She was a 36 year old woman of average height with blonde hair, gentle blue eyes, and a pleasant smile. However, what she saw out the window changed the smile to a look of fear.

"George!" she called to her husband, "Come here, quickly!"

A man in his mid-thirties raced into the room and asked frantically, "What's wrong?"

"I just saw someone near the fence. He was barely moving and collapsed. I think he needs help."

"I'll go check. Jack!" he yelled, causing his teenage son to walk through the door from the kitchen, "C'mon. There's someone who needs help. Let's go."

The men flew out the door and ran to where Michael was lying in the snow. When they reached him, they knelt on the ground and each grabbed an arm to lift him up.