Snow Devil

3:00 AM:

It's about 20 degrees outside, not accounting for a significant wind-chill factor, and the store has been empty for some time when a young man shows up, having walked from his home up in the South Hills. He stomps snow off his boots, removes his hat and gloves, unzips his heavy down jacket and asks, "Can I please use your phone?"

"Of course!"

I hand him my cell phone and he makes a call. This is what I overhear:

"Please come get me . . . no, I don't want to go back. Please? Just come get me."
He asks me our address and relays the information to the person on the other end of the line.
"Thanks, I'll wait here."

"Everything okay?" I ask, after he hangs up and hands my phone back.
"Yes," he says. "My sister is coming to get me."

He bundles back up and goes out front to wait. I look out a few times and see him shivering. After some time, I go outside.

"You are welcome to wait inside," I tell him.
"You sure?"
"Absolutely. Will your sister be here soon."
"It will take awhile," he says. "She lives in Hamilton."

Hamilton is about 45 miles south of us, in the heart of the Bitterroot Valley.

"Oh, then yes, come inside and wait where it's warm," I insist.

He comes in and I buy him a cup of hot chocolate. He's quiet at first, then with no provocation on my part he suddenly seems to open up:

"My parents got in a huge fight so I left. I want to go to my sister's house," he explains.
"I am sorry to hear," I say. "I hope it all works out for the best."
"They do it all the time," he says.

We chat for a bit. He seems a very polite, if not shy, and intelligent guy.

"How old are you?" I ask.
"I am 15," he says.
"Oh, wow. You look much older," I say.
"Yeah, I get that all the time."
"What school do you go to?" I ask.
"I am home-schooled," he replies.
"How do you like that?"
"I love it, he says. My parents say it's best, so I won't be influenced by non-Christian beliefs."

Not sure how to respond, I simply say, "Huh . . . Interesting."

"It's much better than public schools," he says.
"How do you know that?" I ask, "If you have never been to public school?"

He returned to silence for awhile, seemed a bit confused, seemed to be mulling it over.

"I guess I don't know for sure," he eventually says. "Good point."
"Well, you seem like a pretty nice and smart guy," I say.
"Thanks."

About the time I am ready to compile the shift and daily reports, his sister pulls in, he goes outside, gets in the car and they head south into the dark. The wind is blowing hard. I see a snow devil dance across the parking lot.