by Bob Blanton
His grandmother obviously realized what memory Matthew was experiencing, and came over and gave him a hug. “I miss him, too.”
◆ ◆ ◆
Matthew watched as his mother poured herself and his grandmother another glass of wine. It’d been a long Christmas day. He could tell that his mother wanted to talk about his father.
“Mom, I’ll take Jessie tonight. She and I are ready for bed now.”
“I am not!” Jessica shouted.
“Come on, Jessie, I’ll tell you a story.” Matthew took his sister by the hand and led her up the stairs.
“Thank you,” his mother whispered as they walked by.
“What story do you want me to tell you?” Matthew asked Jessica as they went up the stairs. She was hugging her new dolly to her chest.
“Cinderella,” she said.
“Okay,” Matthew said.
He told her the story from memory. She actually stayed still throughout the entire story.
“So she lived happily ever after,” Jessica said.
“Yes, she did.”
“How can you live ever after?”
“It means she lived happy for the rest of her life,”
“What happens when you die?”
“You go to heaven,” Matthew said.
“Like Daddy?”
Matthew realized the adults weren’t the only ones remembering that Christmas.
“Yes, like Daddy.”
“What’s heaven like?”
“Heaven is like whatever you want it to be,” Matthew said. “If you want snow, then heaven is snowy. If you want sunshine, then it’s the beach on a sunny day.”
“Really?” Jessica asked.
“Sure,” Matthew said.
“What do you think it’s like today for Daddy?”
“It’s Christmas, so Daddy would want it to be Christmassy. There would be singing like at church today.”
“Really?”
“Yes, singing and a snowy day high above the clouds,” Matthew said.
“Tell me more.”
Matthew took his portal to the Saint Bernard Monastery in the Alps. He had checked it out for a report in European History. It was a bright moonlit night, you could see the tops of the clouds below the monastery, and the hills coming out of them were covered in snow. He could hear the monks chanting in the background, it made it an exceptionally peaceful scene.
“What could it hurt,” he thought, as he continued to describe the scene to Jessica.
“Now, Jessie, sometimes if you close your eyes and think real hard about the person in heaven, really, really hard, then open your eyes you can see where they are.”
“Could I see Daddy?”
“No, but he can see you. Do you want to try?”
“Yes,” Jessica said.
“Okay, now think really, really hard.”
Jessica scrunched her eyes up and gritted her teeth as she thought about her father.
“Are you thinking really hard about Daddy?”
“Yes,” Jessica whispered.
Matthew widened the portal up and pushed it out so it was in front of him and Jessica. He picked the most peaceful scene.
“I can hear music.”
“Chanting?”
“Yes.”
“It’s really peaceful, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Now open your eyes.”
Jessica opened her eyes, “I can see it,” she whispered.
“Is it nice?”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s all fluffy in the clouds. And the music is really nice.” Jessica yawned.
“Matthew held the portal open and let the chanting of the monks lull Jessica to sleep.
The next morning at breakfast, Mrs. Brandt was very quiet and sullen. She’d obviously had a very difficult night.
“Mommy, are you sad?”
“Just a little, honey,” Mrs. Brandt said, “but I’ll be okay.”
“I saw Daddy’s heaven,” Jessica announced.
“You did, honey?” Mrs. Brandt asked.
“Yes I did. Last night, I thought about him real hard and there it was. It was pretty, and there was nice music.”
Mrs. Brandt looked at Matthew, confused.
“The power of suggestion,” he said. “She wanted to know where he was.”
“I know he’s happy. He likes snow,” Jessica said matter-of-factly, then she took a big drink of her orange juice.
“Yes he does, honey,” Mrs. Brandt said, patting her daughter on the cheek.
◆ ◆ ◆
“The roads are so slick,” Grandma Brandt said as they loaded themselves into the Expedition. “Maybe you should just wait.”
“They always have the main roads sanded by now,” Mrs. Brandt said. “It’s just the side streets that will be so slick.”
“Okay, Margaret, but if it doesn’t look safe, I want you to come right back.”
“Don’t worry, Mom; I still remember how to drive on slick roads.”
After another round of kisses and goodbyes, the Brandts set off on their way back to Long Island. The drive into Bridgeport went without incident; as Mrs. Brandt had predicted, all the main roads were sanded and passable. As they turned down the street toward the ferry landing the traffic was backed up.
“The storm must have knocked the traffic light out; it’ll only take about ten minutes to get through this. The ferry landing is just a few minutes after that.”
Matthew looked out the side window, the cross streets were mostly deserted this early in the morning; everyone was headed to the ferry. The traffic moved along in short spurts, three or four car lengths every few minutes. The person in front of them had stopped short, trapping them in the intersection. Matthew saw the garbage truck coming down the hill toward them. It was on one of the smaller side streets that didn’t have any sand on it.
“Oh, no!”
“What, Matty?” Mrs. Brandt asked.
“That garbage truck is coming down the hill, and the street looks like ice.”
Just then the garbage truck turned on its left-turn signal and applied its brakes to prepare to turn. Matthew could tell that the driver had been going too fast when he started the turn. The truck didn’t even change direction; it just started to slide down the hill. It began to pick up speed, sliding on the ice like skis. As he watched this unfold, Matthew’s mind was racing, could he use his portal to stop the truck? Matthew threw his portal out in front of them to block the truck, putting his end against the street below the car. He set it at an angle hoping it would turn the truck into the parking lot the driver had been trying to turn into. The truck hit the portal with its left bumper where Matthew had set it up. The bumper crumpled, but the truck rotated around the portal and was sliding down the hill sideways.
“Shit!”
“Matthew David Brandt!”
“Sorry,” Matthew said, as he desperately tried to concentrate on his next move.
Jessica screamed.
“Oh my!” Mrs. Brandt called out as she finally noticed the danger.
Matthew reset the portal to the top middle of the truck, and just for good measure he adjusted his end to be in a different location on the road. The truck continued to tilt for a second until it hit the portal, and then it paused, balanced on the downhill tires. Matthew was afraid that its rotational energy would just keep it spinning, sliding the tires uphill until it was on its side.
“Well, at least that would probably stop it,” he thought. He saw the side of the truck where he had placed the portal crumpled in, but the tires found just enough traction on the icy road to slow down the slide, and the truck settled back onto all it wheels. It wobbled back and forth as the driver gunned it toward the parking lot. It jumped the curb and crashed against a couple of cars before it finally stopped.
“Oh my,” Mrs. Brandt said. “I thought it was going to crush us.”
“The tires must have found a dry spot on the road,” Matthew said. “Boy, it sure turned that co
rner sharp.”
“Yes, it did,” Mrs. Brandt said, her voice shaking.
“I was scared!” Jessica screamed.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Mrs. Brandt said. “The garbage truck just had some trouble turning into a parking lot.”
Mrs. Brandt eased the car ahead to catch up with the traffic, “Well, Grandma Brandt got her Christmas wish and I got my prayers answered,” she whispered under her breath.
“What, Mom?” Matthew asked.
“Oh, nothing. Let’s just get to the ferry.”
◆ ◆ ◆
As they made their way west on 25A, Matthew was amazed at how rural everything was looking. “I thought Long Island would be wall-to-wall houses.”
“Some of the communities are,” Mrs. Brandt said, “but much of the island is still very rural. Only it’s more estates than farms these days, especially in the area where we’re going.”
As they turned north onto Cove Road, it soon became apparent what she meant. As Matthew looked to the side, he could see enormous houses a few hundred yards from the road. They seemed to all be on multi-acre lots.
“Wow, these are some big mansions.”
“Yes they are,” Mrs. Brandt agreed.
“Turn right onto Cove Neck Road in two miles,” the navigation system announced.
A few miles later they were turning into the Winthrop estate. The driveway was bordered by a low stone wall and curved in front of the house circling back on itself. There was a parking area off to the side that could accommodate ten or more cars. Mrs. Brandt pulled the Expedition into one of the spots just as Jason and Mr. Winthrop came out of the garage.
“Hello, how was the drive over?”
“It was fine, although for a minute there I thought we might have an accident.”
“What happened?” Mr. Winthrop asked
“The roads were icy; a garbage truck seemed to lose control and was sliding toward us, but the driver finally got it turned.”
“Yeah, it almost tipped over,” Jessica said “then it bounced.”
Matthew hugged his sister’s head into his leg. “But we weren’t scared were we?”
“Yes I was! I screamed,” Jessica said. “Matty said a bad word.”
“That’s okay,” Mrs. Brandt said. “Let’s get our stuff into the house. Leave the presents; we’d just have to load them up again tomorrow.”
Jason and Matthew each grabbed a suitcase and followed their parents into the house.
“You’ll be staying in this room,” Mr. Winthrop said, as Jason deposited Mrs. Brandt’s suitcase on the bed. “If she wants to, Jessie can sleep with Hanna tonight.”
“Yay!” Jessica yelled.
“Yay,” Mrs. Brandt whispered under her breath. She’d been sharing a bed with Jessica for four nights and was looking forward to an uninterrupted night of sleep.
“Matt, you’re bunking with me,” Jason said. “By the way, Emily and Alex are here.”
“Great, where are they?”
“Emily’s playing chess with Grandfather, Alex and Brea are out shopping with Mom and Grandmother.”
“Hi, Emily,” Matthew said as he wandered over to the two playing chess. “Hello Mr. Winthrop,” he added, extending his hand.
The senior Mr. Winthrop shook Matthew’s hand without taking his attention away from the chessboard. “We’ll do proper introductions as soon as I finish beating this young lady,” he said.
Matthew studied the board, “I’m sorry to tell you this, but she has Mate in six moves.”
“Really,” Emily said. “He’s a much better player than Daddy and he’s already beaten me once.”
“No coaching,” Mr. Winthrop said.
“Yes, sir.”
Matthew watched the inevitable play out. Once Mr. Winthrop moved his queen out of danger, Emily made the only logical move and took his bishop.
“I see it,” Emily called out two moves later. “Mate in three.” She hugged Matthew’s arm. “How could you see that so early?”
“It’s chess,” Matthew said, “six moves isn’t that far ahead.”
“I concede,” Mr. Winthrop said. “Hmm where did you learn to play?”
“My father taught me,” Matthew said. “He was pretty highly rated.”
“How high?”
“He was an Expert, but only a few points shy of Master before he got sick.”
“Oh, that’s right, Jason told me about your father,” Mr. Winthrop said. “Sorry about that. We’ll have to play a game later on.”
“I’d love to, sir,” Matthew replied.
“I didn’t know you played chess,” Emily said.
“Never came up,” Matthew replied. “I usually just play online. It’s easier to fit it into my schedule that way.”
“How does that work?”
“You log onto a chess web site and select who you want to play.”
“How do you know how good they are?”
“There’s a rating system. You decide how challenging a game you want by how much higher a rating the player you choose has.”
“Does anyone have a higher rating than you?” Emily asked.
“Geez of course,” Matthew replied. “There are Masters and even a few Grandmasters who play online. They all make pretty short work of me.”
After introductions and a tour of the house and grounds, Mr. Winthrop had Matthew sitting down to play a game. They were twenty moves into the game when the shoppers all came home.
“Hi, everyone,” Brianna called out, as she and Alex came in loaded with shopping bags.
“Hi, Brea,” Matthew answered, getting up and giving Brianna a quick kiss. “Hi, Alex.”
“You’re playing chess!” Brianna complained.
“We’ll be through pretty soon,” Matthew said.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself,” Mr. Winthrop said.
“Sorry, sir, just trying to appease her,” Matthew said, as he watched Mr. Winthrop make the move he was expecting. “Five minutes,” he whispered to Brianna. He reached over and made his move.
“Don’t you want to think about it?” Mr. Winthrop asked.
“I’ve been thinking about it, sir,” Matthew said.
Mr. Winthrop spent a few minutes pondering the board, then started to move his bishop to take Matthew’s pawn. He glanced at Matthew, then put the bishop back and moved his rook instead. “I’m in trouble aren’t I?” he asked.
“Yes, you are,” Matthew said. “Mate in seven moves.”
“What happened?”
“About five moves ago, I backed you into the Danish Gambit. After that, good play dictates that you play the gambit script out to Mate.”
“Why couldn’t he make another move?” Brianna asked.
“He could, but they all put him in a weaker position,” Matthew said. “Your grandfather is too good a player to make the weaker move.”
“Not good enough,” Mr. Winthrop said. “Can you set the board back to where I stepped into it?”
“Sure, but you didn’t really have another choice.”
“Okay, how about setting it back to where I had a choice.”
Matthew smiled and reset the board back ten moves.
“Okay,” Mr. Winthrop said, “let me study this for a while.”
“Okay, Grandfather,” Brianna said. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, then pulled Matthew away. “Let’s go.”
“We’re going sailing,” Jason informed everyone. “We’ll be back by 5:00.”
“Don’t be late,” Mrs. Winthrop said.
“Don’t worry, Cara,” Alex said. “It’ll be freezing by 4:00, so we’ll make him bring us home.”
“Okay, kids,” Mrs. Winthrop said. “Have fun, but save some energy, we’re leaving early tomorrow and I’m sure you guys will want to ski in the morning.”
◆ ◆ ◆
“God, this is early,” Alex moaned, when they dragged her out of bed at 7:00.
“Yes, but if we get wheels up by 8:00, we’ll be in Jackson Hole by 10:00. T
hen we can hit the slopes by 10:30,” Jason said. “Come on, it’ll be worth the pain.”
“Okay, but you owe me.”
Everyone followed much the same routine they had when they’d flown to Vail, but this time the flight was over four hours. It didn’t take the girls much time to get back to sleep, but Matthew was trapped in front with his seat facing his mother.
“This has certainly been a busy break for you, Matty,” Mrs. Brandt said.
“Yes it has,” Matthew replied.
“Do you ever spend time with your old friends?” she asked.
“Mom!”
“You might as well talk, you’re trapped for four hours and I’m not giving up,” Mrs. Brandt said.
“Okay,” Matthew acquiesced. “I didn’t really have that many friends before. Jackson and I still play chess online and in the morning at school once in awhile.”
“What about Lance?”
“We weren’t that good of friends,” Matthew said. “He’s started hanging out with some other kids; they’re kind of the bad crowd, so being the nerd I am, I’ve been avoiding him and his new friends.”
“What about the other kids in the chess club?”
“I never hung out with them before, and when I was working at Web Masters I didn’t really have any time.”
“I see. How about Simone? Have you seen her since you stopped working at Web Masters?”
“I went by after school on Monday to take care of some things,” Matthew said. “We talked. She’s doing great. She’s still amped about the college fund she was able to start up for Jalin.”
“That’s good. You and Brianna seem to be getting along well.”
“Mom!” Matthew looked behind him to make sure that nobody was listening. The seating there had been made into a bunk for Jessica and Hanna. Mr. and Mrs. Winthrop were deep in conversation across the aisle.
“That’s right, I’m your mother.”
“We’re doing okay,” Matthew squirmed. “We really like each other.”
“That’s good. She’s a nice girl,” Mrs. Brandt said. “Now while we’re skiing, you’re going to have to help take care of Jessica,” Mrs. Brandt said.