It was like the clock stopped. It’s not that I minded the stories because I didn’t.
And the pigs in blankets were quite good. But I wanted to see Sam.
At about 9:30, everyone was stuffed and sober. At 9:45, the hugs were over. At 9:50, the driveway was clear.
My father gave me twenty dollars and the keys to his car, saying, “Thanks for sticking around.
It meant a lot to me and the family.” He was tipsy, but meant it just the same.
Sam had told me they were going to a dance club downtown. So, I loaded everyone’s gifts in my trunk, climbed in the car, and drove away.
There’s something about that tunnel that leads to downtown. It’s glorious at night. Just glorious.
You start on one side of the mountain, and it’s dark, and the radio is loud.
As you enter the tunnel, the wind gets sucked away, and you squint from the lights overhead.
When you adjust to the lights, you can see the other side in the distance
just as the sound of the radio fades to nothing because the waves just can’t reach.
Then, you’re in the middle of the tunnel, and everything becomes a calm dream.
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