It was early in the evening on February 14th, Valentine's Day. The highway leading north into Springfield was packed with couples looking for a fun night out on the town. Far fewer travelers were going south, away from the hubbub and the lights.
There was one car that did neither. A beaten-up green sedan sat on the shoulder of the highway leading north, not moving at all. Next to the silent car stood a young woman, dressed in the uniform of the prestigious St. Barnaby's private school. Gray blazer emblazoned with a stylized yellow B, a matching pleated short skirt that reached three quarters down her thigh, gray socks that reached just under her knee, and a simple light blue blouse. The woman was Sonya Thompson and she was speaking to her father, Kyle Thompson, on the phone.
"What are you even doing out there?" he asked with a touch of anger in his voice.
The Thompsons lived in Riverside, a small town of ten thousand souls an hour's drive away from Springfield. Sonya thought it was the most boring town in the world and even the strictly catholic private school St. Barnaby, which was roughly halfway between Riverside and Springfield, felt like a paradise in comparison.
"I was going to a VD party," Sonya grumbled.
"You're not old enough to go partying at night in Springfield!"
"I'm eighteen, Dad," she fired back.
"You're still in high school and you still live under our roof."
"Not for much longer," Sonya threatened.
There was silence on the other end, followed by a long sigh. Sonya fumed, tapping her foot. At least the anger was keeping the cold at bay. Her clothes weren't well suited for the frosty February temperatures.
"We can talk about this some other time," Kyle said. "Let's deal with your situation first. We'll need to call a tow truckβ"
"I already called the tow truck, Dad. I'm not an idiot."
"Right. Of course. We can be there in half an hour if your mother is driving and get you home."
"I was thinking it'd be easier to get a ride with the truck into Springfield and then stay at a hotel there," Sonya suggested. "I can book the room myself, it's not a problem at all."
"Even if I thought that was a good idea, it's a no go. We tried to book a room for Valentine's last week and everything was already full."
"I'm sure I can find something. Someone always cancels at the last minute," Sonya tried.
"Trust me, you won't be able to find a room. And are we supposed to just wait here for you to find something and then when you don't, drive to Springfield? It'll be way past midnight at that point."
"You don't have to wait, it's my problem."
"No, it's our problem. Just wait there, we'll beβ"
"Dad, the highway is pretty backed up and I'm not standing in the freezing cold on the side of the road for an hour."
"Yes, hm, that's probably not the best. Ahm, hold on, didn't you say you were by exit three?"
"I can see the sign for it."
"Your uncle Sam lives in, hold on... Fairview. That's only a couple of miles."
"Ooh, Uncle Sam? I haven't seen him in forever."
"I think that may beβ"
Suddenly there was a scuffle on the other end of the line. Sonya looked at her phone, hoping it wasn't on her end. The cell signal was strong and she still had eighty percent battery left.
"Sonya?" her mother Lilianne asked.
"Hello, Mom," Sonya sighed.
"Do you have any friends living nearby?"
"I have friends in Springfield, I can just goβ"
"You're not staying overnight in Springfield, you're stillβ"
"I'm eighteen," Sonya snapped.
"Think carefully, please. Any of your classmates live in the area?"
In the background, Sonya heard her father say something about calling Sam.
"Well... I have an uncle that lives near here," Sonya said coyly.
"Your father should not have suggested that," Lilianne groaned.
"Why not? I haven't seen Uncle Sam in forever. Ohh, I think the truck's here."
"Good. Maybe they can fix your car and then you can drive straight home. Do you hear me? Straight home."
Bright headlights illuminated the young Ms. Thompson, huddling in the cold. The driver pulled in front of the green sedan and cut the engine. Sonya remained on the phone while the driver got out. They had a short conversation in which she described the metallic ka-chunk-a-chunk that killed the engine in the middle of the road. She popped the hood and the mechanic bent down with a flashlight.
"He's taking a look now," Sonya said.
"I got ahold of your uncle," Kyle said on the other end. "You are lucky that he's even home. He said he'd be willing to put you up for the night, we can come pick you up in theβ"
Another scuffle, followed by Lillianne's voice.
"We'll be there as soon as possible, okay? This is just so you have somewhere warm to stay until we get there. Half an hour at most."
"Mom, the highway is stuffed."
"Doesn't matter. Your dad and I are leaving right now, we'll be there."
"I can sleep for one night at Uncle Sam's. It's not a problem."
"Sonya, listen to me. This is important. I want you to be careful around Sam, okay?"
"Why? What's wrong? Did something happen and that's why he hasn't visited in a long time?"
"No, it's notβit's complicated."
"Is he dangerous?"
"No, of course he's not. He's just... Sam."
"What does that mean?"
"It means we're coming to pick you up."
"Mom, you don't have to. I can take care of myself."
"You most certainly can not. You're still my little baby."
"I'm eighteen."