Homecoming

The following is the beginning of a short story to be continued. Its time period is pre-cell phone in the early 70's, so despite the aggravation that cell phones often create, Tandy could have used a cell phone in this situation.

The snow began to fall in soft, sporadic flakes as the ski school bus turned into the middle school parking lot. Parents huddled in cars with motors running to keep warm and patches of ice on the blacktop glistened in the muted glow of streetlights.

Tandy peered out the window, searching for her mother’s station wagon. She didn’t see it and slumped back into her seat. All the way home, she’d crossed her fingers, hoping that tonight her mother would be on time. She kicked the seat in front of her so hard the boy in it turned around and glared at her. She hated that she was always the last one to be picked up.

As the bus came to a stop, the kids jumped out of their seats, grabbing backpacks and jackets, and spilled out the doors like ice cubes tumbling out of an automatic dispenser.

Tandy waited for the crowd to clear, retrieved her skis and sat down on a snow bank to wait. She watched the cars leave, one by one, until finally only the fading rumble of the bus motor broke the silence as it, too, pulled away and disappeared.

She glanced over at Brad, the ski school supervisor, putting his gear into his car. He was young, just a year out of college. Tandy thought he was really cute, although at thirteen, she knew she was too young to interest him. He always waited with her until her mother arrived, but the forced small talk between them embarrassed her and made her feel even more awkward than she usually did around boys.

Brad waved and started toward her. She stopped him with a gesture. “Hey, Brad, go ahead and leave. Mom will be here any minute. No need for you to wait.”

Brad smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I really don’t want to leave you alone.”
He ignored Tandy’s protesting gestures and approached closer. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Usually I don’t mind waiting at all—it’s part of my job and I like getting to know all the kids better—but tonight’s my girlfriend’s 21st birthday. There’s a big surprise party and I need to be on time. You sure your mom is coming?”

“Absolutely. My parents always go out Saturday night and I babysit my twin brothers. They’re just two, so it’s hard for her to get ready on time—get them fed, bathed—you know, all that stuff. She’ll be here, though, don’t worry.”

Brad gave her a two-finger salute and turned back toward his car. Tandy watched his red tail lights vanish while the silence and cold coiled around her like mummy wrapping. Piles of snow lined the parking lot, blocking her view of the homes on the side streets surrounding the school and Tandy huddled beneath a flickering lamppost. Snowflakes, falling faster now, sprinkled the sky like confetti and dusted her parka and ski pants.

She heard a car turn the corner and stood to gather her skis, but then sat back with an irritated flounce as she watched a pickup truck slow for a minute at the parking lot entrance and then drive by. She kicked at a patch of ice beneath her feet, comforted by the scrape and scratch of her boots in the still, deserted lot and checked her watch. Her mom was twenty minutes late now. Snow began to stick to Tandy’s hair and eyelashes and she brushed it off with an abrupt angry swipe.

Just then, she heard the sound of another car coming down the street. She stood up, sure that this time it had to be her mother. She hoisted her backpack up, then turned to grab her skis and boots, thinking about what she was going to say to her mother. She muttered to herself while she gathered her things and then whirled around to face her mother.

“Well, it’s about time,” she said. “Do you know how late…”

Tandy caught her breath. She stared open-mouthed at the driver of the pick-up truck—the one that had passed slowly by the parking lot just a few minutes ago—as he opened the car door and said with a smile, “Well, how are we doin’ tonight, little girl? Looks like you’ve been stranded and need a ride.”

Copyright 2010 Susan Matthewson