Runner Up: Rebecca Gray
Thorsby, Alberta Canada
Congratulations, Rebecca!
Rebecca’s Bio:
Rebecca Gray lives in Thorsby, Alberta, Canada with her husband Nathan and their cat, Goose.
Rebecca is an executive member of Inscribe Christian Writers' Fellowship www.inscribe.org
When she's not teaching piano or filing papers at the local hardware store, she ignores her messy kitchen and spends time with coffee, friends and Inspirational Romance novels - reading someone else's or writing her own.
Nor Iron Bars a Cage
By Rebecca Gray
It's days like this I wish I wasn't sick.
My husband, James, wrapped one arm around my ample waist as we stared at the statement.
The car was paid off.
Years ago, James decided I should have my own car to travel between our humble village and the big city an hour away. I named her Bertha. After five kids, she was my only fat friend.
The first time I peeled out of our gravel driveway in that gleaming silver symbol of freedom, I cranked the volume on Beethoven's Fifth and visited every Second Cup in the city.
That winter, I stood at our living room window watching the cottony snowflakes flutter to the frozen earth. I cried as Bertha disappeared beneath the icy glitter.
The diagnosis was epilepsy. My license had been revoked. When it became clear the seizures were here to stay, we canceled the insurance on Bertha. It rained the day I offered her up for sale.
We waited, but nobody wanted my friend.
"The debt's more than she's worth," they said.
What is freedom worth?
"We're debt-free now," declared James that afternoon. "How should we celebrate?"
How? By escaping this suffocating village. By pointing Bertha into the sunrise and not stopping until the needle was on E. Then she and I would fill up our stomachs and keep going. We'd return with memories and maybe a new pair of shoes.
But my diseased brain kept me bound.
I sighed. "Order pizza?"
James squeezed me tight. He understood. Did I mention how much I love him?
Our door burst open and the five most beautiful children ever born tumbled into our house.
"Spring break! Spring break!" chanted young voices to the beat of book bags thudding to the floor.
"Hey!" Smack! "Shut it!"
"Ow! Mo-om!"
"Guess what? Katie skipped school!"
"Katie?" I searched the mini mob for my eldest. Her coat disappeared around a corner as she silently slipped away from the ruckus.
"Katie!" When she didn't answer, I looked to the tattletale.
"She had to take a test."
"A test?" I shook my head. Only my kids would skip school to take a test.
Peter, my youngest, propelled his skinny body toward the fridge.
"A driving test. Hey, where's my 'xper'ment?"
"I got hungry. What's this about driving?"
"Mo-om!"
A soft voice murmured behind me. "Surprise." Shyly, Katie presented her new license.
As I smiled through my tears at my Katie-baby, James held me tight. I looked up.
"You two go celebrate," he ordered.
"Where?"
"Every mall Katie can drive to in a week. And don't pack," he added, voluntarily surrendering his credit card. "Just buy."
I gaped at James.
He grinned. "We'll be fine. I'll send them on sleepovers."
In that moment, I realized it had been my pride, not epilepsy, that had imprisoned me.
Overcome with gratitude, I kissed my husband with a passion that only comes from years of experiencing life together.
"Ew! Mo-om!"***