I haven't seen my Canadian cousins since five summers ago. Crossing the border, I realize Canada's very different in winter. Usually the route past Richelieu is a panoramic landscape of pastoral green, but in late November, a misty snow is blowing across the arctic landscape. I shudder in my thin jacket, looking at the frozen tundra. I place my hand on the heater to stay warm. It's freezing, but I'm wearing sneakers and clothing more appropriate for the fall than winter time. Passing Montreal, on our way to Three Rivers, the only traffic on the snowy highway are mostly truckers. About an hour away from our destination, flashing lights reveal a hastily improvised roadblock. My mother rolls down her window, anxiously waiting for direction from a bundled policewoman who pads up to our car. Seeing our American license plate, she addresses us in English, "I'm sorry, madame, but the roads are now closed. You'll have to find a motel for the night."

"D'accord, merci, mademoiselle." My Mom falls naturally into her native tongue. She turns the car around them locates a small motel off the highway. I'm starving, but unfortunately all the restaurants are shut down due to the storm. "Why did the highway close, Mom? The roads are still drivable."

"It's because of the poor visibility. The snow blows everywhere with the wind." My mother pulls into a one level, L-shaped motel. After we're checked in, I discover the rooms are clean, but tiny. My mother calls Ryan right away to let him him know where we are. I hear her anxiety grow as she talks on the phone. "No, you can't go home, Ryan. Come here to Aunt Louise's home. You should be with us."

"I'm not coming to Canada." I can hear Ryan's adamant tone on the other end of the line.

"Then, you need go to your grandparents, Ryan. Under no circumstances should you go home!"

When she hangs up, she turns to me. "What's wrong with, Ryan?" I ask.

My mother's near tears. "Ryan's dropped out of school. Now he's headed back home."

"Didn't you warn him that dad threatened us with a baseball bat?"

"I should have." My mother shakes her head, sadly. "He was so upset,  I couldn't talk to him."

"Maybe he'll go to our grandparents instead of home."

"I don't know what he'll do. I don't have any money to send him to help. I'll have to go to the bank and exchange money tomorrow so the both of us can survive. If we stay here, Evie, I have to reapply for citizenship."

"Really? You were born here."

"I gave up my citizenship after I had you and Ryan."

"Why?"

She bites her lip. "Mom and dad warned me the Japanese were separated from their children in the interment camps. They said I should give up my Canadian citizenship in case the US went to war with Canada. I made a terrible mistake."

"I wish you wouldn't call them mom and dad. They're David and Sabine, and they've been working against you all this time. We'd never go to war with Canada. They don't have a real military."

I'm shocked to hear the lies my grandparents told my mother when she first married, knowing her english was limited. As far as I know, during WWII Japanese families weren't separated. The entire family was kept together when they were interred which was horrible and cruel. I'm sickened. My mother was afraid to lose custody of her children, and my grandparents wanted her totally dependent on my father. So she'd never be able to leave him.

"So all the money you earned while you married? You gave your entire paycheck to dad?"

She nods, "And he gave it to his father to invest for us."

"Oh." So there's nothing in your name?"
"No. I'll have to go back to nursing. If I file for a divorce, I'll get some money." She smiles at me wanly. "Perhaps enough to buy a house."

I sit there exhausted, eating a box of cookies for dinner, contemplating how much our lives have changed during the past twenty four hours. This isn't what I imagined. I always thought I would be elated once we escaped from our father. Now I realize how naive I've been. We're homeless and we have nothing. Tired, I fall back on the bed and drift into an uneasy sleep.

There's a heavy, white snowfall. Ryan's Running a head of me in the maze. He's wearing his leather pilot jacket. The surrounding hedges are covered in thick snow, drifts piling up around our ankles. I shiver with cold. Instead of boots, I'm wearing pink Converse sneakers. My socks are icy and wet from the snow. Freezing, the stiff fabric of my jeans makes it difficult for me walk, let alone run. Ryan disappears around the corner out of sight. Running after him, I try to keep up, but I trip and fall into the snowy bank. "Ryan, there's something behind us! It wants to hurt us, I can feel it coming!" Only the howling wind answers me.

I wake up because I'm freezing. Not just dreaming about being cold, my teeth are chattering. I sit up, pulling the blankets around me. Frightened, I see my breath in the air above my bed. "Mom? Why is it so cold in here?"

There's no answer. "Mom?" I realize I'm alone in the room. Where did she go?