Whispered Prayers

by Alex Grayson

It’s warmer than it is outside, but when I turn to face the kids, they already have puffs of white coming out of their mouths when they breathe. I kill the engine; the air coming out of the vents is no longer warm in the slightest. “Mom,” Daniel says, his voice quivering. “What are we going to do?” I take a minute to answer him, because… well, I have no damn clue what I’m going to do. Obviously I can’t tell the kids that though. I’m the adult, and am supposed to have plans for everything. Helplessness and fear slither in when I realize how dire our situation is. This stretch of road is long and a good distance away from town. The few times I’ve been out this way, I’ve only seen a couple of cars, and the chance of one driving by now in this weather is pretty damn slim. What in the hell am I going to do? Think, Gwen! “Mom?” I look back at Daniel and force a smile. I need time to figure out a plan. “For now, you and your sister are going to come up front with me.” I point to the back. “Grab the blanket in the back and climb up here.” They both unbuckle, and while Daniel grabs the blanket, Kelsey climbs over the seat. I lift the console once Daniel has climbed up front as well. He sits in the middle, while Kelsey sits on the other side of him. “Scoot closer together.” They do so, and I put the blanket over all three of our laps. I always have a blanket in the back of my Range Rover. It stems from growing up in the north. My parents always told me it’s never a bad thing to be p...