White Crow

Springtime is a subjective word in Alberta. Thick flakes of snow fell to the icy asphalt below. An air of excitement filled the car. Lance Ryder looked down at the letter and re-read the contents. An invitation to the jr. national hockey team.

Abigail went to speak several times. "Lance, I..." then, she'd trail off and turn her attention to the road. A worried look decorated her face.

Lance narrowed his eyes and scowled. "Mom, what is your problem?" he asked. "Just say what you need to say."

When put on the spot, Abigail tended to blurt things out. Her face knotted up. "I'm the reason your father and I got divorced." Lydia's face registered relief. "I've been holding on to that."

"What? Why didn't you try to work it out?"

"I'm a lesbian, Lance. It won't ever work out."

What could Lance say? He couldn't escape the truth or find privacy to process what he heard. "Is that why he doesn't call?"

"Probably."

"Is that why he doesn't call me?" Lance leaned against the window and watched his breath fog against the window. "I've called him so many times. He never answers or takes my messages."

Abigail placed a hand on Lance's shoulder. "The whole thing threw him for a loop..."

"Don't make excuses for him." He was barely there. Even when they lived together, the man couldn't make the time. Lance smacked the vinyl with a fist. "I never asked him for anything, and he abandoned me."

The high beams dropped to low with the click of a button. Lydia shook her head. "What is this clown doing? He hasn't turned off his high beams."

Lance tilted his head forward and noticed the lights weren't attached to anything. His hand smacked against Abigail's shoulder, "Mom, I don't think those are headlights." No response. He tapped her again, "Mom..."

"I am aware of the situation, Lance," she snapped.

The car began to slow down. The lights merged and left a silvery blue orb glowing in the middle of the road. It started to pulsate and thrum with energy.

"Buckle up, Lance," Abigail said. Her voice embodied the calm before the storm. The air inside the car grew tense.

"Mom, are we..."

"Lance put on your seatbelt."

The buckled clicked in place. Lance watched his mom smirk as she threw the SUV into reverse and stomped on the gas. The luminescent orb flashed three times and pursued them.

"I think we have a problem," Lance's hand slammed into the vinyl as his body jerked forward. His head slammed against the glass. Stars passed over his vision while the car spun around.

"Hang on tight," Abigail threw the car in drive and put the pedal to the metal.

The inertia threw Lance backward and pasted him to the seat. "Whoah, where did you learn to drive like that."

"I have a long and storied history."