Chapter Eleven Daria Morgendorffer pried her hands off the steering wheel, her thin shoulders shaking. The drive from Boston to Lawndale in her small dark green Toyota Corolla had been nerve wracking. The crowded, snow packed highways had been littered with fender benders, though thankfully she hadn't seen any really serious accidents on the trip. She hadn't been able to call her parents or her friend Jane at all, with various excuses being given by her cell phone company, ranging from overloaded circuits to heavy snow, to sunspots. The regular phone service hadn't been any better, with downed lines everywhere.
She had thought about canceling the Christmas trip home, but she had promised her folks and sister Quinn that she would come and she was (just a little!) homesick. Besides, she had to pick up Jane to take up to Boston for the spring semester. It was very late, but to her surprise, the lights all seemed on in the house. The harsh wind blew the drifting snow into fantastic shapes on the lawn. The erratic gusts seemed to spin columns of snow into almost human silhouettes, before they disappeared again. Icy crystals danced in the air, sparkling like small stars. Daria took off her glasses, rubbing her tired eyes, before putting them back on. She was glad to be home, but looked forward now to nothing but a hot shower and a warm bed.
She zipped up her coat, and grabbing her small black overnight bag, stepped carefully out in the storm. The cold wind lashed at her, blowing her auburn tresses wildly about. Her heavy black boots swished through the powdery snow as she carefully ploughed up the walk to the front door of the house. She used her key to slip inside, just in case anybody was asleep.
She was shocked to see the living room was a mess. The artificial Christmas tree was set up in the corner. The usual array of Christmas cards decorated the wall. The small table was covered with coffee cup stains, loose papers, and oddly enough, state highway maps. There was a stack of pictures of Quinn. Her sister's dazzling smile, with its flawless complexion beamed out at her.
Her dad Jake stepped out of the kitchen, not noticing Daria at first. He was sipping on a steaming cup of coffee, unshaven, his dark hair uncombed, fatigue plain on his face. Daria just looked at him, suddenly tongue tied. Jake was dressed casually, in dark pants and a thick sweater. He stared almost numbly at the flickering screen of the TV. Daria frowned. She hadn't told anyone she was coming in for sure, so why was her dad up?
Daria cleared her throat hesitantly, not knowing what to say. Her dads eyes flicked to her in confusion, then suddenly lit up in joy.
"Kiddo! My God! Daria!"
Her dad dashed over to her, coffee slopping from the cup onto the floor.
"Dad! The coffee!"
"What, kiddo?"
"Dad, its great to see you too, but lets put the coffee down on the table first, please?"
Jake looked confused for a second, then carefully put down the coffee, before crushing Daria in a powerful hug. Daria hugged back, gasping from the pressure.
"Jake! What's going on down there?"
Her mother Helen's voice came echoing down the stairs.
"Helen, it's Daria! She's here! Our little girls come home!"
He shouted, hugging the struggling Daria even tighter, before breaking into sobbing.
Daria froze. The hug she had expected, and Dads overwhelming welcome, but not the tears. Looking up, she saw Helen at the top of the stairs, a tired smile covering her face, while tears ran down her cheeks. Her mother looked tired, almost ready to collapse, but she rushed down the stairs, and added her arms to the hug of her oldest daughter, before she also began to cry.
"Mom, Dad, I'm, uh, sorry, but I can't breathe!"
"Oops! Sorry, kiddo!"
Jake reluctantly let go, but Helen was almost collapsed onto Daria, still crying. Jake steered his wife and daughter to the living room couch, and sat them down, where Helen still held onto Daria tightly. Daria glanced up the stairs, expecting to see her sister standing there smirking down at her, before descending gracefully, and adding to the clinch, but saw nothing.
"Mom? Dad? Is anything wrong? Where's Quinn?"
At the sound of her sisters name, Helen squeezed Daria even tighter, then slowly let go, still holding her daughters hands. Daria looked at her mother almost as if she had never seen her before. The strong, capable, take charge corporate lawyer looked wrung dry, almost frail. Dark circles were under each eye. Her hair hung limply. A empty feeling grew in Daria's heart.
"Mom? What's happened? What's wrong?"
Looking up at her father, she saw the same desolation that filled her mothers eyes. Jake cleared his throat, and looked at his daughter with a pain filled face.
"Daria, Quinn went on a shopping trip three days ago to the Mall of the Millennium, with her three friends, you know the ones, Sandi, Stacy, and Tiffany? That was the night the storm started, and, uh, nobodies seen them since."
He growled, "Police threatened to arrest me if I went out! They said the roads were closed for a reason, and if I went out and got stuck somewhere, they wouldn't be able to look for your sister!"
"Jake, please don't start now!"
Helen let go of Daria's hands, wiping her face with a tissue.
"There hasn't been any reports of accidents, and their cell phones and credit cards haven't been used since that night, " she added. "I've tried over and over to call you, but I could never get through!"
Her mothers old strength started to resurface.
"The highways and streets have been closed, and it's almost impossible to go anywhere. Oh, Daria, I'm glad to see you, but you took such an awful risk to get here!"
She frowned, "How did you get here? The roads are closed."
Daria subconsciously squirmed, but kept her straight face.
"I just listened to the radio for the road closings, and used a map to find a way around or through them."
"Oh, Daria, sweetie! You always were so smart!" Helen said, squeezing her daughters hands tightly. "We think that's what happened to Quinn and her friends, too, but they took the wrong turn and got lost! My poor baby might be frozen to death! And the police can barely get out and look themselves in this horrible storm!"
"Look, Mom, never tell her I said this, but Quinn's not really, well, dumb. She's actually pretty smart, when she wants to be. As long as she can keep dry, and reasonably warm, she should be okay. The four of them are probably really hungry right now, but they can huddle together in the car to keep warm."
Helen sighed. "That's just what the police said too. "
"Um, how are the other parents taking this?"
"Stacy's parents have been as worried as we are. Mr. Blum-Deckler is out of town on business like Jake was. Tiffany's mother, Natasha, is very composed, but I saw her wiping her eyes when she didn't think anybody was looking."
"And, uh, the Griffins? I sort of noticed you didn't include them."
Helen frowned. "I don't know what on earth is wrong with that woman! Tom Griffin showed up with us at the State Police office, to give them details about Sandi and that old yellow convertible she drives, but not Linda! You'd think a girls mother would be more interested. But no, not Linda Griffin! Tom gave me some weak excuse about her being sick, but still! Normally, Linda doesn't pass up any opportunity to lord it over me."
"That sure doesn't sound like Linda, from what little I know about her."
Helen wiped her eyes. "It's just so good to see you, Daria. You must be so tired too, after that long drive, and all that snow. Why don't you try to get a little sleep? Your father and I have been taking turns catnapping, so we don't miss any possible news of Quinn."
"Mom, I'm sure she'll be okay. They're stuck somewhere, cold and tired, but alright. I'm worried too. I'm not really that tired right now. I can sit up with you," Daria said, barely stifling a yawn.
Helen smiled sadly at her. "Well, at least go upstairs and relax, sweetie. You must be tense from that long, awful drive."
This time Daria didn't catch the yawn in time. "Good idea, mom. I'll just wash up a bit. Um, I had a bit too much coffee on the way here."
She slowly walked up the stairs, stopping and looking down from the top. Her parents sat together on the couch holding hands, smiling up at her, before their attention turned to the TV again. After using the bathroom, Daria walked up the hall, looking into her sisters room. Noticing the unfinished report on the dresser, she glanced at the title and froze, almost biting her tongue, while inwardly swearing at Mr. DeMartino, her former and Quinn's current history teacher. She could just hear him giving the assignment to Quinn's class.
"Now, while you people are GORGING yourselves, this JOYOUS Holiday Season, I want you to COMPLETE this ASSIGNMENT, and remember SOME people DON'T have things so EASY!"
The large black letters stood out boldly on the cover page of Quinn's report: The Tragedy of the Donner Party, in the Winter of 1846 through 1847. Documented Cannibalism in the American West.
Daria crumpled the page in her fist.