Date: Mon, 23 Apr 2007 23:45:02 -0400 (EDT)
From: Jack Frost <unpetitpoissonbleu@yahoo.ca>
Subject: Moving On - Chapter Eleven

Moving On -- Chapter Eleven
By Jack Frost

A special thanks to Sharon for the excellent editing work!

Un remerciement special a Francois pour la correction des textes francais
et pour le "betareading" !!!

And finally, many thanks to a certain goat with sunglasses, CJames the
betareader!



	I was sitting on the bench outside of the state licensing center,
which is located in the middle of an industrial park in the valley, waiting
for Krist to finish his road test. Usually these road tests take five to
ten minutes and according to many kids, they're easy as hell compared to
the first test, which has twenty multiple choice questions. Get seventeen
of them right, you get your permit straight away, and it's not unusual to
hear that many kids fail on the first or second try. Good thing the state
let us try as many times as we want, but only one test per day. I looked up
at the sky, wasting time watching the birds flying around aimlessly.

	"Jeez, will it end soon?" I grumbled and leaned back on the bench.

	"Relax, it's only been five minutes," Birna looked at her
wristwatch, "Hope he remembers to stop right before the stop sign, not next
to it."

	"Oh, he should be done soon. Shouldn't take more than ten minutes
unless he hits somebody or gives the examiner a hard time," Jake added.

	"No more than ten minutes?" Ben looked at Jake, "Crisse, in Quebec,
they would make you do up to thirty minutes of hell doing all sorts of
things in the guidebook. And doing that in the crazy traffic of Montreal
isn't as simple as driving through an industrial park like you do here."

	"Vietnam is probably the easiest," Alex cut Ben off, "Many people
would ride a moto or drive a car without a license and get away with it all
the time by bribing the traffic cops."

	"Look, he's coming back!" I pointed at the car, not too far off,
coming up the hill.

	"He better slow down, he's going a little too fast," Birna rolled
her eyes.

	Krist drove into the parking lot towards the back of the
building. In a minute, the examiner came out of the front door and told
Birna to accompany Krist while he parked the car in the parking lot and
then come in the building for the result.

	"Hope it will be good," Birna muttered as she grabbed her
quilt-patterned purse and went to the back. Not too long after, we saw
Krist parking at the very front of the lot closest to the door. We got up
and went to the car to push Krist into telling us what happened.

	"Nothing. I dunno. He said he`d tell us when we get inside, but it
seemed like it went well. I followed whatever he has told me to and he
didn't make many comments," Krist announced.

	"Did you remember to set it in park when you finished parking?"
Birna asked him.

	"Mum, yes, I did everything. Quit pestering me," Krist groaned and
we went inside after him.

	The examiner was waiting for us at the counter. He looked a little
old, balding and with glasses. Nevertheless, he smiled at us softly.

	"Well, despite not stopping before the stop sign," he
started. Birna glared at Krist.

	"I told you so," Birna remarked, "Oh sorry, do continue," she
smiled at the examiner.

	"Well, it was one mistake, so I'm willing to let that go, and say
he has passed," he gave Krist his permit marked `passed' and a road testing
number next to it.

	"Woot!" Krist cheered. We all congratulated him and took turns
looking at his permit, which was nothing but a piece of thick paper the
size of two credit cards, printed with the state name, and Krist's personal
information and description.

	"Sorry to interrupt, but the lady is waiting for you at the photo
booth to take your picture so you can get your license. Drive safe, young
man," the examiner pointed at the booth and waved us good-bye. We turned
around to head to the booth but he called out to Krist about something.

	"Oh, I was curious about something you said in a foreign
language. Something like `too er med littli tippi'. What does that mean?"
he asked Krist. Birna glared at him and told him something in Icelandic
before giving him a slap in the shoulder. Whenever she slaps Krist on the
shoulder, it always means he said something stupid or cursed.

	"Oh, I was reminding myself to slow down a little," he answered,
"I'm from Iceland, you know." Birna rolled her eyes, implying `right...sure
that's what you said' and told Krist off again softly in
Icelandic...something about minding his language, if I pieced a few keywords
together right. Alex found it a little amusing but he held himself from
laughing.

	"Ah, interesting. Have a nice day," he waved before going to the
back door to give another road test to a girl in the SUV.

	"What did you really say?" Jake asked when we walked far enough
away from the examiner's hearing.

	"I said `þu ert með litli typpi', which means `you got a small
dick'," Krist translated, with Birna confirming the accurately, "He kinda
annoyed me about stopping a little sooner at the stop sign."

	Krist went into the booth to get his picture taken and signed his
name on a little piece of paper, which the old woman scanned into the
computer. In a minute, the machine hummed and spat out a freshly minted
driver's license.

	"Oh fu...erm...fuddle duddle," Krist awkwardly changed the word
midway as his mother was close to slapping his shoulder again. He smiled
and told us, "My picture is screwed up."

	"Lemme see," I grabbed the license. I looked at his face, his lips
a little crooked and his eyes staring very darkly.

	"It looks like a mugshot of you," Ben looked over my shoulder.

	"You look cute nonetheless," Birna said, "C'mon, we have to get
home before your brothers do. I guess you can drive, Kristjan," she wiggled
the keys in front of him, and he grabbed them and went straight to the
doors, obviously heading to the car. We followed him shortly and off we
went to go back to the mountains.

	"Slow down," Birna told Krist when he reached 80mph, "Don't think
just because you have your license that you'll be free to do whatever you
want. Plus, there is no way I'll let you drive like a real Icelander would
do around the cops," she winked at him, pointing at that bush, and Krist
eased up on the gas to get back to the speed limit of 65, because he
noticed a state cop hiding behind the bush.

	We arrived at Krist's house and Birna invited us to come in and
have something to eat for a late lunch since we got out of school early to
see Krist's special moment. Birna picked up the phone and decided to order
some pizza from King's, and left the house to pick up the order since
King's doesn't really offer home delivery. Shortly after that, Krist's
brothers came in.

	"Who's home?" a boy called out from the door while two more
followed.

	"In the kitchen, guys. Come get your cookies that Mamma made for
us!" Krist replied. Ben stared at three boys getting their coats, shoes,
and backpacks off and leaving them on the floor.

	"Hey, guys. Come here, I want you to meet someone," I pulled one of
the boys to face Ben.

	"Jonsi, meet Ben. Ben, meet Jonsi, Krist's fourteen year old
brother," I said as I introduced the oldest blond boy. Well, the whole
family is blond anyway.

	"Then the twelve year old twins, Sindri and Sigrun," I told Ben,
pointing at the identical twin brothers.

	"Ok boys, go get your cookies," I let them go and in a second, they
ran to the kitchen, "Go Ben before they eat them all."

	Krist, his brothers, Ben, Alex, and Jake and I sat down at the
table eating Birna's homemade cookies and milk. We just chatted about our
day, plus Krist showed his new driver's license to his brothers, which
reminded Ben to tell us something.

	"Oh, didn't I tell you I'll get a road test too next week when I'll
be in Canada?" Ben told me.

	"No..." I started to say, but Krist cut me off.

	"No kidding, I didn't even know you're driving."

	"Really! Look, I'll get my permit out of my wallet," Ben went to
his wallet, taking out a credit card-like permit with a goofy photo of him
on it that he had made on purpose. Cute. Krist took it out of his hand to
see it.

	"Heh, all in French..." Krist gave it back to Ben, "I wish you
luck. It'd be cool to have two people driving instead of me doing all of
the work till Steph, Jake, and Alex eventually get their license."

	"I haven't really thought of it. Say, do you have your manual? I'll
take my test after I come back from Canada," I asked Krist for his copy of
the PA Driver's Manual since he wouldn't need it anymore. He went up to his
room to find me a copy, and Birna just came in with the pizza. We all sat
down again along with Birna and we enjoyed some pizza and soda for our
dinner.

	"Ok, we better get going," Ben said, "C'mon Step, we gotta leave
early tomorrow, so we need some sleep."

	"Have fun in Canada guys. Don't forget to bring us something
Canadian," Krist smiled. Jake and Alex repeated the same.

	"Bye-bye, Ben and Steph," the twins waved at us, with Jonsi. Birna
was on the phone, so all she could manage was waving us bye as well.

	As we left the house, Ben didn't even hesitate to comment about the
brothers.

	"They're too damn hot, just like their brother. God, the twins are
cute!" Ben started to drool as he painted a picture of them in his
dirty...mind.

	"And I am not?" I remarked.

	"Oh, you have a good gun, that's why I'm still here," he smirked.

	"Fuck you," I grinned, and we walked in the woods towards Ben's
house, passing the treehouse. Hmmm, I have to remember to take Ben there
again someday when spring comes. We had to part ways, since I had to cross
the ice to get to my house. We looked around before kissing each other
goodbye for the night. I can't wait for tomorrow, I'm going to leave the
country for the first time in my life. Mom agreed to let me go on the trip,
so there was no problem. She even gave me some money, five hundred dollars,
to spend up there on the condition that I bring her some Canadian stuff as
well. Looks like I'll have a really full suitcase with everyone asking me
to bring back something Canadian for them.

	I woke up at six in the morning to Mom knocking on the door,
telling me to be showered and ready when Mr. Lemoureaux came to pick me
up. So I dragged my ass off the bed and walked like a zombie, knowing I
shouldn't have drunk that coffee an hour before bed. I showered. I
shaved. I did whatever I always do in the bathroom every morning, including
brushing my teeth. I grabbed my suitcase and backpack and brought them
downstairs where I found Mom in the kitchen, taking some documents out of
the metal safe box.

	"Here's your birth certificate and social security card," she put
the documents in a plastic folder and handled them to me, "You'll need them
to get across the border. Do not lose them. Got your photo ID?"

	"Yeah, I do," I flashed her my state issued ID made for people who
don't have their driver's license yet.

	"Good, make sure you have your school ID as well. Two is better
than one," she continued.

	"Mom, stop fussing, I got everything! It'll be fine," I moaned.

	"Well, you'll be in another country for god's sake! Do you expect
me to be not serious?" she rolled her eyes, "Here, take this bag. I made
sandwiches for you, Ben, and his brother. There are some large bottles of
Gatorade too, but don't drink them like water or otherwise you'll be
stopping too much to go to the bathroom." Then a car just honked from
outside.

	"It's them! Ok, I'll call when I get there," I went to give her a
hug, "Love you!"

	"Have fun," she followed me to the door so she could wave at
Mr. Lemoureaux, Ben, and Adrien. Mr. Lemoureaux got out of the car so he
could squeeze my suitcase next to Adrien's and Ben's in the trunk, and he
managed to do that...barely.

	"Wonderful, now we can finally leave!" Ben excitedly told me and
moved over to the middle of the backseat that held another of Adrien's
suitcase.

	"All set, Steph?" Mr. Lemoureaux got in the car and turned around
to face me from the front seat. Adrien looked back and waved `hello' at me.

	"You bet!" I replied and off we went. We went down the mountains to
the valley, going to downtown Wilkes-Barre where the bus station
is. Mr. Lemoureaux dropped us off, giving the guys a few reminders in
French and gave them a hug, especially Adrien since he would not see his
son for a while.

	"Steph, keep an eye on him for me," he winked and shook hands with
me.

	"Bye and thanks for everything," I told him, giving the final
shake.

	"Here, the ticket...you go first," he gave me a bus ticket and
pointed at the bus being loaded. So I walked to the bus driver waiting at
the open door and gave him the ticket.

	"New York, huh?" he asked me.

	"Erm...yeah," I replied softly.

	"Great, give your suitcase to that man there. He'll load it for
you," he ripped the ticket and gave me the receipt back, and I walked on
the bus. The bus was already half-full with people going to New York City,
almost all commuters. It's really hard to understand that some people
living here would be willing to travel two and half or even three hours to
New York City everyday except weekends, wasting too many hours of their
lives on this long commute.

	"Yo, move it. Pick a seat, Steph," Ben gave me a little push from
behind. I moved down the aisle to find two empty seats and since I got on
first, I had dibs getting the window. Adrien sat right across from us on
the other side of the bus, sitting next to a sleeping woman in a business
suit.

	The bus pulled out of the station and in ten minutes, out of the
valley. New York City is about two and half hours away, three at the max if
there is rush hour traffic. We spent half of our time going through the
Pocono Mountains region of Pennsylvania, and then across the Delaware
River, the boundary between Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Usually most of
the trip through northern New Jersey is all forests with some mountains,
but they're nowhere as big as the mountains of Pennsylvania. Ben and Adrien
were reading a local newspaper, the Citizens' Voice, while I played my ipod
for some music and games on the little screen.

      Then we eventually fell asleep. Ben put his head on my shoulder and
kept it like that until the bus driver announced over the speakers the
warning that we were ten minutes away from the bus station in New York
City, waking everyone up. I looked out from the windows; the city was
already in full view across the Hudson River. After living in the
countryside all of my life and being used to seeing several small
high-rises in downtown Wilkes-Barre and Scranton, New York City's dense
skyline always amazes me no matter how many times I go there.

	We entered the Lincoln Tunnel, which took us under the river for
almost a mile before popping out in midtown Manhattan, looking through the
skyscrapers making the streets like urban canyons. Situated near the
opening of the tunnel, the bus station was huge, about the size of a
football stadium perhaps. When the bus stopped, everyone jumped out of the
seats to crowd the narrow aisle, hoping to get out as quick as they
could. After we finally got out of the bus, we had to work through the
crowd of people while trying to get our suitcases from the pile next to the
bus, and once we got them, we went inside the station.

	"We won't have to get on the bus to Montreal for two hours, so
we're going outside to a cafe for some snacks," Ben told Adrien and me,
showing the timetable written on the tickets.

	"How long will it take to get to Montreal?" I asked him.

	"About eight hours, seven if the driver likes to speed a little
over the limit," Adrien replied as he pointed out the escalators to go up
to the street level.

	"Shit, good thing I packed plenty of music in my ipod and some food
that Mom made for us," I muttered.

	We went out the doors and I had to dance around my suitcase through
the heavy crowds on the sidewalks, trying to catch up with Ben and Adrien
as they took me to nowhere. Ben told me to be patient as the destination
was only a couple of blocks away from the station, so we wouldn't have to
drag the heavy suitcases for much longer.

	"There we are, at this corner," Ben told me.

	"What is it..." I arrived at the corner and stopped, "Wow..." All
around me were flashing lights covering many buildings, especially their
fronts. I found myself standing in one of the most famous spots in the
world, Times Square. Times Square probably has more flashing lights and
flashing ad displays and would make the Las Vegas's Strip look like a
little light bulb compared to those dazzling displays on every single
building in the district.

	"C'mon Steph, don't stand there..." Ben snapped me out of the trance
that the flashing lights put me into, telling me we should cross the
street, "Europa Cafe is where we're eating," he pointed at the cafe right
across the street.

	I followed them across the street and entered the cafe, all happy
to leave that heavy bitchass suitcase next to a table to reserve a spot in
an already crowded cafe. We went to the display of sandwiches, Paninis,
salads, and more. Ben decided to get the large cup of strawberry yogurt
parfait with organic oatmeal, strawberries, blueberries, and bananas in it
with his coffee. Adrien decided to stick with the coffee, and I picked a
turkey wrap with lettuce, peppers, and tomatoes inside. We sat down,
looking at the clock making sure we wouldn't be late for the bus, and
talked about general stuff. Ben also talked about the places that he would
show me when we got to Montreal.

	"Soon after I show you that mall... Oh crisse de tabarnak! Adrien,
on doit decrisser ou sinon on sera en retard!" (Oh fucking hell! Adrien, we
gotta get the fuck out of here or otherwise we'll be late!) Ben panicked at
his brother after checking his watch, grabbing his suitcase. I didn't need
any translation since the body language said it all for me. We quickly
walked like crazy through the crowds on the sidewalks. They're New Yorkers
anyway, so they didn't really give a damn about us walking like crazy.

	We arrived at the station in ten minutes, Ben asked his brother for
the number.

	"Erm...soixante...si je m'en souviens ben..." (Erm...sixty...if I
remember well...) he answered.

	"Ben la, on decrisse donc! C'mon Steph!" (Well, let's move on then,
dammit!)

	"Ok...ok...ok...je viens!" (I'm coming!) I told him back in French,
which was still basic anyway.

	We went down the escalators to gate number sixty, and Adrien had it
right, it's the gate that leaves for Albany-Montreal.

	"Good, not much of a line. Sure as hell we'll be on this bus
without having to stand by waiting for the next bus, which would be another
hour to wait for nothing," Ben explained, finding a way to justify the
haste.

	"Oh shit, you scared me... I thought we were going to be close to
missing the damn bus and you're telling me we may have to wait an hour?!" I
took his hand to see his watch.

	"If we had come fifteen minutes before departure, the line would be
too long and we could risk not being able to get on the bus at the time we
want to leave. Everyone wants to go to Montreal and it's on a first come,
first served basis," Ben said in a little annoyed voice.

	"Sorry, I'm not too familiar with busses," I apologized.

	We sat down on the floor waiting in the line; it grew longer as
time went by. Soon the door opened and the bus driver was ready to accept
the tickets. We got up, lining up as Ben gave each of us our own ticket to
board the bus. After we finally boarded, I got the window again and Ben
never really cared.

	"Hey, I went this way before. I don't care as long as I have you
next to me," he gave me a kiss on the cheek. I saw Adrien smiling and turn
his face away. Geez, he's been quite quiet, even in the cafe!

	The bus pulled out of the station, back through the Lincoln Tunnel
to New Jersey again. The bus would take us through New Jersey a little bit
before coming back into New York further away from NYC to avoid the crazy
traffic in Manhattan, and then up through upstate New York with a
thirty-minute break in the Albany station at around three in the
afternoon. We ate all of Mom's sandwiches in the dining area of the station
and then it was time to go back on the same bus that we had been
riding. Shortly after we left Albany, we went through the beautiful
Adirondack Mountains, a huge mountain preserve taking up a large chunk of
upstate New York. Somewhere in the mountains, I started seeing highway
signs, especially tourist ones, written bilingually in English and French,
which really surprised me since I thought they'd be all in English until we
crossed the border.

	Adrien was sitting next to a blonde woman, talking to her. Ben went
to join in the conservation.

	"Do you mind me asking where you are from?" Ben asked her.

	"Sweden...Stockholm, though I grew up in a small town that you don't
know, dear," she smiled.

	"That's my brother, madam," Adrien added, explaining his sudden
involvement in the conservation.

	"Neat, why are you here then?" I added.

	"For school and hopefully to stay here to explore for a few years,"
she answered me.

	"And his friend..." Adrien rolled his eyes.

	"Oh stop it with that tone of voice," she gave Adrien a little push
on the shoulder, "They're nice afterall," she laughed a little.

      The woman started talking about more about why she was in the USA and
Canada. She was studying English as a major in NYC and will graduate this
spring with a bachelor degree. Then she will go to McGill University to get
her masters to be an English literature teacher. Adrien would sometimes
blush for no reason, and seemed as if he liked her. It took us about two
hours to get through the mountains and then after another hour, we stopped
at Plattsburgh, a small city right next to Lake Champlain for a quick
break. Ben and I went to look out at the lake to see the Green Mountains of
Vermont on the other side of the lake miles away.

	"How long to the border?" I asked Adrien while Ben was in the
bathroom.

	"Oh, just fifteen or twenty minutes. It's not too far off from
here," he answered.

	"Oh...that close? Wow," I said in surprise.

	"Well, you slept a little, and that tends to make the trip seem
faster for you," Adrien grinned, "I haven't slept at all yet, so I can't
wait to feel my bed in a couple of hours."

	"C'mon guys, the bus is boarding again," Ben pointed at the people
getting back into the bus.

	Adrien was right; we arrived at the border in fifteen minutes. I
saw that we passed a very subtle line on the cleared ground through the
trees and a silver marker indicating the border between the United States
and Canada. In a few seconds, we got in the line at the border booths that
look quite a lot like those tollbooths we have on turnpikes and toll
roads. The bus passed through one of them and parked next to a small
building. The bus driver told us to remain in the bus until a customs
officer gives us permission to come in. So we waited ten minutes until a
lady in her thirties come in the bus, telling us to bring all of our stuff
out of the bus, take our suitcases, and come inside the building for
documentation checks. So everyone got up and did as she told us.

	We waited in line; I took out the plastic folder containing my
birth certificate and social security card to get them ready to show a
couple of customs officers at the front checking everyone's papers. I saw
that Ben and Adrien were holding their Canadian passports.

	"Can I see that? I never saw a foreign passport before," I asked
Ben, looking at the black passport with the word `passport' written in
English and French, the country's official coat of arm, and `Canada'
written on it in silver letterings. Ben gave me his passport and I opened
it up, giggled at Ben's weird photo, looking like a real mugshot. Why do
most official photos always look like that? And he looked younger too, so I
looked at the issue date, he was fourteen when he got his passport. I went
through the pages and saw he had a couple of stamps from Cuba and
Mexico. Ben explained that his family went to Havana and Cancun for
vacation. I also saw one big visa covering a whole passport page from the
US granting him residency in the country and his green card tucked in a
little envelope. Ben took the passport out of my hand, telling me I saw
enough of his picture when I was going to look at it again to have another
laugh.

      Eventually, after ten minutes of waiting, it was our turn. The same
woman customs officer that came in the bus motioned at us to come up
forward to the counter. Ben and Adrien came first, greeted the woman in
French to let her know which language she should serve them in, and then
presented their passports.

      "Hmmm, vous etes donc Canadiens. Où vivez-vous et qu'est-ce que vous
avez fait pendant votre sejour aux ?tats-Unis?" (Hmmm, you're Canadians
then. Where do you live and what did you do during your stay in the United
States?) The customs officer asked Ben and Adrien while she scanned their
passports into a computer. I guess it's a database thingie to check their
identities and to see if they're criminals or anything. Adrien took care of
the answering the several questions that the woman asked them, and then the
woman seemed satisfied and returned their passports.

      "Vos documents d'identite?" (Your identity papers?) the officer asked
me.

      "Erm...wha...pardon?" I asked her in confusion.

      "Your identity papers, like passport, official photo ID, birth
certificate, and so on," she sighed in English.

      "Oh! Right, I have a birth certificate..." I handled it over to her,
"And my state issued photo ID."

      "Which citizenship are you?" she asked.

      "American," I answered in a polite tone.

      "How long will you be in Canada and what is the purpose of this
trip?" she asked.

      "For a week, and to go to Montreal to visit the city with Ben and
Adrien here, my friends." She entered the data she found on the birth
certificate and ID into the computer to check for something like she did
with Adrien and Ben.

      "You're seventeen years old, so you're a minor. Do you have a
parental consent paper?" she pointed at the birthdate on my ID.

      "A what?" I asked.

      "A consent paper that has permission from your parent or guardian
letting you travel in Canada on your own," she explained.

      "I never thought I would need one..." I stumbled.

      "Wait here, I'll ask the other agent about this," she gave me back my
birth certificate and ID, and went to the other customs officer, explaining
everything in French about my situation.

	"Shit, I have a bad feeling about this," Ben whispered at me. Fuck,
I might be denied entry into Canada just because I didn't have a written
permission paper from my mother.

	"But you're seventeen too, and she's letting you in without that
paper!" I hissed at him.

	"That's because I have Adrien for an eighteen year old brother," he
answered, "Plus, I'm Canadian, so they can't deny me entering my own
country when I have enough proof that I'm Canadian," he answered before the
woman came up with a male customs agent, requesting to see my papers again
and looked at the computer once more.

	"Well, so far we don't find you suspicious, but it's a rule to know
that you have parental permission to travel in Canada," he said in an
official voice, "Do you have a phone number that we could call?"

	"Erm, yes, of course!" I answer and they gave me a piece of paper
and pen to write the numbers on.

	"We'll be right back, we'll need your papers to confirm
everything," he walked through a door into an office. We settled in for a
few minutes of waiting that seemed to be an hour. I crossed my finger that
I make it in and was prepared for the final word when they came out of the
office, handled my papers back to me. The man told the woman something
again in French and went back his counter to check the rest of the people.

	"We did contact your mother and she accurately said everything what
was written on your documents, and gave you permission to travel. I
apologize for the inconvenience, but I'm bound by the rules," she gave me a
small smile, "You may go. Enjoy your stay in Canada," she pointed at the
doors where we should exit the room. We sighed with relief that there
wasn't going to be any problem getting in the country.

      Then we walked with our suitcases down a hallway into the waiting
room with the other passengers of the bus who had completed the custom
check and been admitted into the country like us. It was cold and flurrying
outside, so I went outside the building to look around. The border station
was in the middle of nowhere. The land is quite flat with forests dotting
the snow-covered landscape. Ben joined me and pointed me toward a welcome
sign that looks like a half real purple iris flower photograph and
half-white fleur-de-lis logo that is the symbol of Quebec. The sign said
first in big bold letters in French, `Bienvenue' (Welcome), and then
smaller prints in English, and Spanish with a much bigger `Quebec' print
under them.

	"Bienvenue au Quebec, mon cheri," (Welcome to Quebec, my dear) Ben
whispered in my ear, and so I took a photo of that welcome sign.

	"C'mon guys, bus is loading," the bus driver called out at us.

	So we got back in the bus and off we went for an hour ride to
Montreal. Canada is a huge sparsely populated country where almost all of
its population and major cities often are situated two or three hundred
miles from the border and Montreal is no exception as it is only fifty
miles from the border. Riding on a highway through a flat, Quebec
countryside with forests and farms mixed together, I let the strange,
different signs all written in French amaze me beyond my mind. I managed to
catch a couple of photos of those highways signs at high shutter speed. It
was getting dark, so the photos didn't come out as clearly as I had hoped.

	Forty minutes after crossing the border, the countryside gave away
to houses stacked next to each other, as a real suburb would have. I looked
out the window to see I was next to the river and the lights of Montreal's
skyline came into view from a distance, and as well Montreal's famous
mountain, Mont Royal, rising high over the skyline. My heart was beating a
little faster and I felt a shiver all over my body seeing the city from
across the river, welcoming me, as I got closer. The bus shortly went on
Champlain Bridge, one of several major bridges crossing the vast
St. Lawrence River. Montreal is in an interesting location since it is the
only major city in the world that sits on a big island in the middle of the
river with a mountain in the middle of the city.

      "Yep, that's Montreal," Ben smiled, "I'm so happy to see home
again. God, how I miss it."

      "I think I love it already," I smiled back at him.

Once again, a special thanks to Sharon for the editing job!!!
Encore une fois un remerciement special a Francois pour le "betareading"
et pour la correction des textes francais !!!
And finally once more, many thanks to a certain goat with sunglasses, CJames!
Discussion topic on GA can be found here through the link below.
http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/index.php?showtopic=5530
unpetitpoissonbleu@yahoo.ca
E-mails and feedbacks are highly appreciated.

Copyright 2007 by Jack Frost. All Rights Reserved. No parts of this story
may be copied, reproduced, in print or in any other format, without express
written consent from the author.