Just a Bump in the Highway

            We were driving down the highway, heading to my grandmother's house. My mom was asleep in the front passenger seat, and my younger brother, in the seat behind her, was playing a game on his Game-Boy. My dad was in the front, listening to The Rolling Stones that was blasting from his ear buds. I sat behind him, excited to see my cousins again. I was about to go to sleep when suddenly we drove off of the road right before driving over a bridge.
            "What are we doing?" My brother asked, finally his attention was directed at somethingother than his Game-Boy. My mom slowly woke up and asked the same thing.
            "Uh, I think we ran out of gas," My dad sheepishly replied.
            "Well, what are we supposed to do?" I asked nervously.
            "Let's try to call someone to see if they can bring us some gas," My mother replied. However, after making several phone calls, we confirmed that no one near us delivered gas.
            "Um, isn't that the exit sign right there? It says that the nearest gas station is less than a mile away," I said. I have always had good eyes, so I could easily read the sign when my parents couldn't.
            "I'll just run to the gas station and bring back some gas then," my dad decided. As he was getting out of the car, it started to rain. He put up the hood of his sweatshirt and was about to cross the highway until my mom yelled "Patrick!" from the car.
            "What?" My dad yelled back, clearly annoyed. When my mom informed him he would probably need money to get gas, he turned back to the car.
            In minutes, he was off. We watched him go running down the highway, then my mom once again fell asleep. My brother and I watched my dad running down the highway until we couldn't see him anymore.
          "I hope he comes back soon, I'm cold," my brother said through chattering teeth.
          "He'll be back soon, don't worry," I reassured him.
          Minutes passed. My brother's Game-Boy ran out of battery, so we ended up playing 'Rock, Paper, Scissors' with frozen hands. I could only imagine how my dad's hands were feeling, whipped by the fierce wind then pelted with freezing rain, the weather conditions that were just outside the car.
          A few minutes later, a worn red Chevy truck pulled up behind us. I didn't see where it came from, and I instantly wondered, 'Who is that?' Then my dad jumped out of the passenger seat of the rusty truck. He walked over to us in steady strides. He set the jugs of gas on the frozen earth and walked over to the driver's seat of the truck. You could tell he was talking to someone, thanking them for giving him a ride. Then he returned to our car.
        "I couldn't make my hands go back out in that cold," he explained once he got in the car, "so I asked the man at the front counter if there was any way he could take me back. He said it was a pretty slow day and he agreed to drive me,"
        "That's a really cute story, dad, but I'm cold! Can you please just pump the gas already?" My little brother whined. My dad jumped out of the car and pumped the gas. He climbed back in and we were once again on the road.
        Speeding away, I couldn't help but think that this wasn't a setback from our journey to our grandmother's, but instead, part of the journey. From now on, whenever something goes wrong for me, I remember that day and realize that whatever's bugging me is not a big issue, it's just a little bump in the highway.

-MO