Melody Carlson - The Christmas Bus

the
CHRISTMAS
BUS

Melody Carlson

Grand Rapids, Michigan

2006 by Melody Carlson

Published by Fleming H. Revell
a division of Baker Publishing Group
P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287
www.revellbooks.com

Printed in the United States of America

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any meansfor example, electronic, photocopy, recordingwithout the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Carlson, Melody.

Scripture is taken from The Message by Eugene H. Peterson, copyright 1993, 1994, 1995, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group. All rights reserved.

Hebrews 13:12

the
CHRISTMAS
BUS

Table Of Contents

December 20

Where in the world are we? asked Amy as she pulled the wool blanket she was using as a shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. She looked out the dirt-streaked passenger window, gazing at the bleak, brown rolling hills all around them.

Like I told you... Collin pulled into the slow-moving vehicle lane to allow a short string of cars to pass him. Were in northern Oregon now. Well be heading into the Cascade Mountains in a few minutes. I just hope we can make it over without too much trouble. Ol Queenie almost bought the farm going over the Rockies.

At the beginning of their cross-country trip, they had christened their revamped school bus the Queen Mary but had since shortened it to Queenie. The name worked since the makeshift motor home was as big as a ship and probably used about as much fuel too. Collin hadnt told Amy that they were almost out of money, due to the recently inflated gas prices, or that he was worried about Queenies transmission going out before they reached their final destination in San Diego.

I just hope I can make it over without another rest stop. Amy rubbed her hand over her large taut belly, silently promising her unborn baby that everything was going to be okay, that they would be settled in sunny Southern California in time for Christmas, which was only five days away.

So why did we come this way? she asked as they started the ascent into the foothills. More vegetation was growing here. Mostly evergreens, but the change of scenery was welcome after so many miles of barren, dry land.

Collin shrugged. I dont know. It just looked like a straight shot on the map to me.

It seems pretty desolate up here.

Therell be more towns once we get over this pass, Collin assured her. Then he pointed to a sign. See, it says, Christmas Valley, eleven miles.

Oh, I got a free pamphlet about that town at the last gas station, she said suddenly, reaching for her oversized bag. She foraged until she found the dog-eared brochure. Here it is. And then she began to read. Tucked into a protected niche of the eastern Cascades lies the sleepy little town of Christmas Valley. This quaint little hamlet received its name two centuries ago when a pair of stranded fur trappers sought refuge during the Christmas blizzard of 1847. She stopped reading and looked out the window again, shuddering as she peered up at the heavy-looking gray clouds overhead. Do you think its going to snow, Collin?

Hope not. He kept his focus on the road, and she turned her attention back to the brochure.

Since that frosty winter, she read, the town has gone from a spot on the map to an unimpressive trading post, to a rather insignificant mining settlement, to a thriving logging community with a working railroad. Then the recession of the eighties arrived, and the logging industry diminished due to environmental concerns that listed the spotted owl as endangered and, not long after that, the boreal toad as well.

Collin laughed. What is a boreal toad?

She shook her head. I dont know, but it sounds like it was trouble for Christmas Valley.

So then what happened?

It says that the railroad was rerouted and that Christmas Valley was forced to reinvent itself or disappear. She skimmed the words, worried that she might be getting carsick again. It basically sounds like the town decided to capitalize on its nameChristmas Valleyand it turned into a tourist town where everything is all about Christmas.

Interesting...

Amy looked out at the pine trees. It was getting dusky now. I guess it does look kind of Christmassy up here. But it would be better with snow. And even as she said this, almost like magic, fluffy snowflakes started to fall, spinning from the sky, hitting the windshield in big white splotches. Look, Collin! she cried out with childlike happiness. It is snowing! Its really snowing.

But Collin just groaned as he turned on the wipers. Snow was the last thing he needed right now.

Its going to be a white Christmas for someone! she exclaimed.

Collin just muttered, Uh-huh, and tried to shift into a lower gear. He didnt know a lot about engines or mechanical things, but he knew that the grinding sounds coming out of Queenie seemed to be getting worse and worse. He also knew that they were probably not going to make it over the mountain pass tonight.

Maybe we should check out this town, he said as another sign appeared, this one announcing that the exit to Christmas Valley was only a mile away.

Could we? she exclaimed.

Why not.

And so it was that a rather large and brightly painted bus rolled into the quiet little hamlet of Christmas Valley.

Population of 2,142, announced Amy as she read the welcome sign on the edge of town. It was after five oclock now, and it appeared that most of the businesses, which werent many, primarily a grocery store, hardware store, and barbershop, as well as about a dozen or so small retail shops that seemed to be specifically related to Christmas, were already closed.

Oh, look, said Amy, theres the North Pole Coffee Shop. She laughed and pointed across the street. And theres Mrs. Santas Diner. This is so cute!

Collin parked on the main street, right in front of the diner, and they both got out and looked up and down the mostly deserted street. The snow was falling harder now, but Amy seemed happier than shed been for the entire trip as she pointed out all the various Christmas decorations and shops. It was as if she were her old happy self again, and Collin decided to make the best of it.

Lets get something to eat, he told her. They went into Mrs. Santas Diner, sat down, and ordered Blitzen burgers (all the main food items were named after Santas eight reindeer).

You folks just passing through? asked a woman wearing a Santa cap and a red-and-white-striped apron with Mrs. Santa embroidered across the front, although Collin had heard someone else calling her Gloria.

Yeah, said Collin as he dug out enough cash to pay the bill, along with a very meager tip. But I think well probably spend the night in town.

That your bus out there? asked a voice from behind him. Collin turned to see a uniformed policeman. He seemed to be studying the couple with an expression that appeared not too welcoming, not to mention un-Christmassy.