‘Van Disaster’ By Peter Carolan
1
It was a cold autumnal morning as bare trees waved their empty branches to the sky. It was still freezing the windscreen on the van was frozen solid daddy asked me to go out and start the van then make us two cups of tea.
I lifted the keys of the cold hard worktop and as the kettle came to the boil. I went out and opened the door of the van. The cold leather seats sent a chill down my spine. I put the keys in the ignition and turned the key. The van burst into life, the still silence broke by the sound of the engine.
The smell of diesel filled the air as I revved the engine and it roared. I went back inside and made us two cups of tea and we went out and got into the van and left the house and went up the road to Mullagh.
2
The van was like a bottle when its turn in a game of spin the bottle. The van was dancing along the ditches. There were cars all along the road going at a snail’s pace.
The N3 was no better. The council had only gritted one side of the motorway and not the other. It was like hell had finally frozen over. We reached rush in Dublin and we hoped the van would make it home again.
We were on the Mullagh to Bailieborough road the engine was sounding sicker and sicker. It was thumping and banging louder and louder.
We prayed nervously that it would make it past the Kells cross but it died out. The engine was conked out. The van was banjacks. We walked for miles in the frozen mist, avoiding the heaps of snow and sleet that came our way as cars drove past. Daddy was silent. He was not a happy man as he knew he would have to pay big money to get a new van. 3