After stealing money from her wealthy but controlling stepfather, Nataly Collins makes the bold decision to run away with her four-year-old sister. But as she does, she crosses paths with an escaped convict from the local penitentiary, and he plans...
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Everyone is quiet as Brandon merges onto the freeway, heading toward the I-5, northbound to Portland.
I keep turning around, looking at my little sister. She watches the mountains in the distance. Won't even acknowledge Brandon's presence.
I've only ever seen Nova like this around Ken. When she had naturally trained herself to avoid his bad moods so he wouldn't yell at her.
Brandon keeps his eyes on the road but I can tell a piece of him is broken by how scared Nova is of him now. He wants to make it better but doesn't know how. I'm not sure I do, either.
After another bout of uncomfortable silence, Brandon says, "Hey Oog. Can I tell you something?" She gives a soft nod. "I don't like when I have to get scary like that. I like to be goofy and fun. And I want you to know I didn't mean to scare you. Sometimes I get scared too so I try to be scary back."
"I was also scared," I say, jumping in. "But Brandon had to put on an act. Kinda like how Jack pretended to be Sandy Claws. Jack wasn't really Santa but he pretended to be something he wasn't so he could deliver presents in Santa's place. He was trying to do good but his idea of Christmas ended up scaring everyone. Remember, bug?"
"Yeah, Jack made bad pwesents," Nova says. "Like the one with a snake!"
"Exactly," I say. "He didn't know the Christmas Town citizens wouldn't like them."
Brandon chuckles, granting me a brief look. "I guess I could stand to learn a few lessons from Jack Skellington."
"I think we all can," I reply, wrapping my arm around his free one.
"Do you forgive me, Oog?" Brandon asks. "I can't promise that I won't be scary like that again if I have to be, but I want you to know that I will always protect you and sissy. And I will never yell or be scary like that with you. Okay?"
"Okay!" Nova calls back, picking up her frog toy and squeezing it until it croaks.
"Thank God," Brandon says, blowing out air. "I never thought I'd care this much about a four-year-old's opinion of me."
I wrap myself tighter around his arm. "She tends to have that effect on me as well."
Two hours fly by and Nova can't stop commenting on the snow, the trees, the moody purple sky. At one point, Brandon rolls down her window so she can stick her hand out and feel the slapping cold air. She whinnies at the speed of the car, at the thunderous sound of the wind coming in through the window.
Eventually we need a fuel break. Brandon pulls into one of the lesser crowded gas stations right before Portland.
"Can I get candy?" Nova asks, grabbing my hand.
"You've had enough sugar for the day," I say, recalling her very syrupy breakfast. "Maybe tomorrow."
