On the way to the campsite in South Grand Canyon, loud, pleasant music turned to static. I walked from the front of the RV to the end and elevated my phone to detect a signal. Even the navigation showed blank. It was close to midnight and we had been rolling down the bumpy road for almost four hours. Endless. There were no reflecting signboards, no streetlights. We were the only light source during these hours of driving. Two beams of headlights broke dauntlessly around the curve of ghat. The dashboard pointed at 10 kilometers per hour and we were almost out of gas. “It’s not even moving!” I said to Daddy with my body feeling the rocks below the RV’s damaged underbody. “Where are we?” No one knew or could find the answer. I leaned slowly and
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The result is capricious but I always have them to drag me out of my inner conflict and support me. In a series of flashback, I saw my parents always acted strong and wanted to protect me from danger. What about me? I can also be that person too. It’s the time for me to bring them out of the argument, tell them that I understand English so don’t worry and everything will be all right. As we carried on, we saw the indicator of gasoline move gradually toward the red zone. I opened my playlist and started to play my mother’s favorite song: “Try,” by Pink. She began to hum softly and so did I. We threw back to few days before, when we saw the impressive Antelope Canyon where we dived underground, and we laughed at the time when the RV car ran out of water and we could only shower in the bathroom at the campsite. No one mentioned a negative word or showed fear, and each person was doing his best to convey love and care. “Wait!” dad suddenly pointed forward. I saw the placard indicating a serial number and I looked beneath it and saw a telephone. I jumped off the RV and ran toward the emergency call box. I knew that family is not only about my parents supporting me, but is about everyone, including me, supporting each other and stepping up at different times to be the leader, the helper or the
The result is capricious but I always have them to drag me out of my inner conflict and support me. In a series of flashback, I saw my parents always acted strong and wanted to protect me from danger. What about me? I can also be that person too. It’s the time for me to bring them out of the argument, tell them that I understand English so don’t worry and everything will be all right. As we carried on, we saw the indicator of gasoline move gradually toward the red zone. I opened my playlist and started to play my mother’s favorite song: “Try,” by Pink. She began to hum softly and so did I. We threw back to few days before, when we saw the impressive Antelope Canyon where we dived underground, and we laughed at the time when the RV car ran out of water and we could only shower in the bathroom at the campsite. No one mentioned a negative word or showed fear, and each person was doing his best to convey love and care. “Wait!” dad suddenly pointed forward. I saw the placard indicating a serial number and I looked beneath it and saw a telephone. I jumped off the RV and ran toward the emergency call box. I knew that family is not only about my parents supporting me, but is about everyone, including me, supporting each other and stepping up at different times to be the leader, the helper or the