Georgia

After about a half-hour back down the mountain the sun was all but gone, half-blotted out by the advancing clouds. Sue's red truck slowed to a stop and turned on its left turn signal. She lingered there for Georgia to catch up before making a turn onto a snow-packed side road. The land here was flatter, the slope of the mountain left behind as they cut across its side. The trees ran evenly on either side of this path, the white stripe of road winding through the green fortress of the forest.

The only problem was the wind. It seemed to be the first warning of the coming storm, though it was a whole force of its own. It kicked up the snow into a fog, lacing through the trees and drifting across the road. Soon enough, Georgia could barely see anything but the fog, with the taillights of Sue's truck blinking in and out of sight.

Georgia kept her focus, trying her very best to keep the truck in sight. The snow had begun to fall and was sticking to her windshield, and her wimpy wipers only did so much, clearing only a small gap for her to see through. She was very quickly growing to regret agreeing to this idea.

"Maybe Lena was right," Georgia said to herself as she squinted to peer through the cleared spot, into the wind-whipped snow and fog. She could barely see the truck's lights. "Maybe I should've turned back when I had the chance."

She hoped that Sue knew what she was doing. Out here, in the cold, dark night, it was too easy for something to go wrong—

An animal leapt out of the wintery woods. Its pure white coat made it look like it was made of the snowy scene from which it emerged. With its long legs and glorious rack of antlers, it danced gracefully into the road—right into Georgia's path.

Georgia screamed. Not wanting to hit the animal, she jerked on the steering wheel without thinking.

Her car swerved around the animal, missing it by a hair. 

Georgia let out a sigh of relief, but she wasn't out of trouble yet. She tried to steer her car back on track, she realized it was sliding out of control. It spun in a swirl of fog and ice and snow. Georgia sat frozen in her seat, trying to remember all her rarely-used winter-driving skills. But it was no use. The car slid right off the side of the road and into the ditch.

As her car came to a stop and began to sink into the deep snow, all Georgia could do was sit there.

What just happened? she thought, dazed. An animal... There was an animal...

She tried to look for it out her window, but it was already half-covered with snow.

Had it been a deer? No...

She might've been living in the city for the past five years, but she still knew what a deer looked like. And that animal, whatever it was, had been too big for a deer. An elk? No...

A knock came at Georgia's window, snapping her out of her daze. Sue was already there, brushing away the snow so that Georgia could see her face, tight with worry.

"You ok?" she called from the other side.

Georgia bobbed her head in a half-dazed nod. She was fine, mostly—just a little shaken up. She tried to open her door, but the snow piled against it made it impossible.

Sue was prepared. She had a little shovel with her, and she began to dig away at the snow that blocked Georgia's door. Soon enough, she was freed.

"I looked in my rearview mirror and you were there one second, and then gone the next," Sue said as she helped Georgia climb out of the car."What happened there?"

It had finally occurred to her. "A reindeer..." Georgia muttered.

"You mean a caribou?" Sue said, giving Georgia her hand to help her up the side of the ditch. "Though I guess they are kind of like reindeer..."

"It was all white," Georgia babbled, her breath coming out in a great puff of air. She glanced around the area as they reached the road. Up here, on the edge of the ditch, the fog was still thick, but at least she could see a lot further. The reindeer—or elk, or caribou, whatever it was—was nowhere in sight. Had it ever been there?

"An all white reindeer?" Sue echoed.

"Yeah. It just burst out of the fog. Came out of nowhere."

Sue tilted her head. "A white reindeer..." she repeated.

"Uh-huh," Georgia said, shuddering.

"Y'know, my husband's mother used to tell stories about white reindeer, stories she brought over from the old country," Sue said, looking wistfully into the heavily falling snow. "They were supposed to be special."

"Special?" Georgia echoed.

"Magical, even." Sue grinned. "She used to say that seeing one was good luck."

Georgia glanced back at her little red car. It looked rather sad and pathetic, stuck in the snow, like an abandoned toy. 

"Good luck?" she scoffed.

"It was just a story she used to tell our kids when they were little," Sue said with a shrug, and the memory seemed to bring a smile to her face. "Usually around Christmas time, actually." She cleared her throat as she returned to the present. "Now, do you need anything from your car?"

"Oh!" Georgia said, still staring forlornly at the stuck little car. "What do you mean? Can't we just call a tow?"

"Not in this weather," Sue explained, her gaze drifting from Georgia's eyes to over her shoulder.

Georgia turned to follow her gaze, and her mouth dropped open. The clouds that she had seen gathered on the distant horizon were closing in on them. The storm her sister had warned her about was almost here.

"Don't worry," Sue said, eyeing the clouds. "We'll get through. But we oughta get going. Let's get your stuff."

"Right!" Georgia sputtered, trying to get her shock-rattled brain to remember what she needed to do. "Uh, I have gifts and luggage in the back seat and—"

"Right-o," Sue said and started walking down the side of the ditch again.

"Wait," Georgia cried, heading after her. It was a lot steeper than it looked from the road, and she was half-swallowed by the drifts. But she pushed on, huffing and puffing through the snow, after Sue.

"You don't have to stay," Sue said as Georgia reached her side. She was already digging at the back door with her shovel, and she was grinning again like this whole thing was a little funny. "Go on, you can wait in to the truck."

Georgia imagined she must look ridiculous, knee-deep in the snow with only her designer coat and sleek leather boots for protection. "It's—my car," she panted. "My stuff—I couldn't—let you—do it—alone."

"If you say so," Sue said. She managed to free the door and open it. "Then you clear out the front, I'll get the back."

Happy to help in whatever way she could, Georgia did as Sue said, diving through the still-open driver's door. She grabbed her purse, the car's keys, and the phone from inside. She thought of calling her sister, but a quick glance at the screen told her she was without service. Stuffing her phone into her pocket, she slung her purse over her shoulder and slammed the door.

Sue was done, too. She had Georgia's small rollaway luggage in one arm and the bag of gifts in the other.

"Let me," Georgia insisted, reaching for the suitcase—

But Sue didn't pause long enough to let her. She was already climbing up the hill. Georgia could only chase after her. When they reached the road, Georgia was panting again, but Sue remained unbothered. She was tough.

"Get inside," Sue said as she popped open the cover on the box of her truck. "You need to warm up before you lose the toes tucked into those pretty little boots."

Georgia wanted to object, but Sue seemed to have it handled. And now that the shock was wearing off, Georgia realized just how cold she actually was. Scrambling through the snow had soaked her clothes, and her limbs were quickly going numb. Once again, she did as Sue said and hobbled over to the passenger side door.

As she reached for the handle, she paused. There was something—several strings of text and a flourishing logo—printed on the side of Sue's truck door, the words arching over a row of sparkling evergreen trees.

NISSEN CHRISTMAS TREE FARM: Where Wishes Come True, since 1929.

So, Sue's family owned a Christmas tree farm, Georgia thought as she climbed inside. She couldn't help but scrunch her nose at the idea. As a child, Christmas had once been her favourite holiday, but that had all changed when... 

Well, now everything about the holiday made her slightly nauseous. If it weren't for her sister and her impending baby, she wouldn't be celebrating at all. Instead, she'd be ignoring the holiday festivities while neck-deep in work or—if she was really lucky—sprawled on some white sand beach where the only sign of Christmas was tiny Santa hats on fruity cocktails.

Still, Christmas-tree-farm-owner or not, Georgia couldn't hold it against Sue. She had been nothing but tremendously kind, so who cared how she made her living? It was because of her that Georgia was safe and out of the snow.

Georgia settled into the passenger seat, pressing her freezing hands to the vents as they blasted warm air. Her fingers tingled as they regained their feeling. Letting her limbs warm up, Georgia looked out the windshield. The storm was now fully upon them. 

The snow from before had turned into thick, heavy flakes, and the wind was building, whipping at the drifts and sending the snow that had already fallen into the air, casting shadows and shapes in the swirls. As she watched the swirling snow, something seemed to emerge from it. It stepped forward directly into the beam of the headlights, staring at her.

The animal was back, as white and sparkling as the snow itself.

The driver's door popped open, making Georgia jump. But it was only Sue. "Good and comfy?" she asked as she climbed in.

Georgia didn't answer. She turned to look back out the windshield, but...

The animal was gone.

I must be seeing things in the storm, Georgia thought with a shake of her head.

"Georgia?" Sue prodded. "Are you all set?"

"Huh?" Georgia said, snapping out of her thoughts. "Oh, right. Y-Yeah, I'm good."

"Then let's get going," Sue said as she buckled herself in. "This storm is only going to get worse."

Sue was right. The falling snow was even thicker now, and the winds stronger.

"You're sure we'll make it into town?" Georgia asked.

"Town? Oh honey," Sue said, shooting her a sorry look as she started up the truck. "We won't be able to make it into town tonight. Not now."

Georgia's heart sank. She hated that she wouldn't make it to her sister's tonight like she had promised, but there was no arguing with the black clouds looming overhead, spitting ice and snow down on them.

"But don't worry. You can stay with us at the farm for tonight."

Georgia began chewing her lip again. She didn't relish the idea of staying at a stranger's farm, let alone a Christmas tree farm, but she had no other choice. As the truck began to move, Georgia looked out the window into the snowstorm. If that white reindeer—or whatever it was—was supposed to bring luck, it certainly wasn't to her.

🎄

Have you ever had a near-miss on the road?