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Ronny went home, fixed another litter box for Rocky, added more cat chow to his dish, left a big bowl of water, flushed the toilet then purposely left the seat up.He knew Rocky sometimes drank out of the toilet.

He wrapped a novel for his brother, some dollar store chocolates, dry gloves, bottled water, trail mix, emergency first aid kit and ground sheet to his knapsack. He added a fleece blanket. He’d never needed it but he was realistic he tested his bike lights, as he pulled on his down filled parka .It was about dusk when he set out on that sabbath evening, all the crows screeching across the fields coming home to roost.

Traffic was light, but it had started to snow. He peddled hard and fast thinking of the roast beef dinner Bob’s wife Betty had promised. He knew Lucky their black lab would be pacing back and forth at the screen door watching for him.

Dan the trucker, pulled into a motel about noon, had a hot shower, then slept till his alarm beeped at five. His head was groggy as he forced himself out of bed. Four hour was just about enough to get his heart rate down, but left him craving another hour in the sack.

Rheumatism in his right knee usually meant a severe storm was imminent. He pulled drapes back to see drifting flurries. Galvanized into action, he dressed quickly hoping to drive through southern Ontario. He was just east of the London snowbelt, always brutal in bad weather.

The cab radio had the usual chatter, he left it there when caroles came on. He liked the traditional songs. .About a half an hour later he could see red flashing lights up ahead, then an ambulance flew by. He quickly looked for an out.

Fortunately he was on schedule. He knew that just before the bypass, he could take a ten minute detour on the back roads. He was near St. Thomas as he geared down to an off ramp.

The side road while empty cast eerie channels through the tree lined countryside as the sun set. A half hour later it was dark. He slowed down. The only sound was a cantata with the Hallelujah choir and flapping windshield wipers he turned on occasionally as the snow drifts came and went.

He sipped his coffee, passing several homes set back off the highway, all the Santa regalia on the roof. A small country church announced a living nativity the following weekend. He would have liked to have atteneded that.

He knew there was a bridge coming up. He checked his overhead map. Tracking devices frequently sent him wrong. He knew he had to head left.

Suddenly he saw headlights behind him. They surprised him. The driver was honking and flashing his headlights for Dan to move over. He slowed on the one lane road wondering where the guy was going in an all fired hurry. Then he noticed something else ahead, a flickering light, plus a junction sign indicating two different side roads.

A red sports car with Nova Scotia plates roared by, blaring music that sounded like a gigantic heartbeat. Once again he saw a flick of light, maybe a farmer on a tractor. Somebody was on the road ahead. All he knew was the red sports car was going too fast.

Maybe it was a snowmobile or a caution light. By then the red sports car was out of sight, tail lights a pink blur a half a mile ahead. The blinking light was gone.