"Folks," Ferris announced to everyone around him, "We have a vitally important errand to fulfill. The fate of the relationship between two people who love each other very much hangs in the balance. If we leave now, we should be able to have it all wrapped up by midnight."

"I'm not going out into that, Ferris!" Cameron pointed to the blizzard out the window.

"Miss MacIntosh," Ferris told Lisa, ignoring Cameron's protest, "Do you think you could create a vision of things to come--potentially that is--with that amazing magic of yours?"

"Well, I've never tried anything like that before, but I suppose anything's possible," Lisa told him with a smile at the thought of a real challenge.

"Well then let's get saddled up," Ferris said, "Because we've got to be Christmas ghosts."

"I wonder how much longer he can keep going?" Clark asked.

"Well, you know Neal; when he gets the rage all pent up, he can go on for hours on end," Del pointed out. Indeed, Neal had been venting his frustration at the rear of the truck for close to a half hour now, kicking the rear bumper repeatedly and screaming every curse in the English language at the top of his lungs. In one fit of rage, he'd actually broken a branch off a nearby tree and beaten the guard rail with it until it had a noticeable dent.

"I hope this storm winds down soon," Clark commented, looking up at the mountains of snow still coming down, "Then maybe we'll be able to hail down another cab and......"

"Forget it!" Neal abruptly yelled at him, storming over, "I'm through with you! From now on Del and I go it alone!"

"Now wait just a minute here, Neal! Don't you blame any of this on me!" Clark bellowed, "It's not my fault he was all out of gas!"

"Well ten thousand trucks in America and you just had to pick one that was out of gas!!" Neal screamed on, "I swear, you are absolutely impossible! Traveling with you is the perfect recipe for getting killed! You could take over for Jack Kervorkian in helping people commit suicide; all they have to do is go cross country with you and they'd willingly blow their brains out!"

"So it's my fault that you're being chased by psychos? Very professional thinking there Neal! I can't stand you either if that's any consolation!"

"Guys, guys, there's no need for this!" Del tried to protest.

"Stay out of this, Del!" Neal shouted at him. He turned back to Clark. "I could have been home by now if you hadn't crashed and destroyed every single car we'd gotten on this trip!" he yelled on, "My family's worried sick about me, and....!!!!"

"Don't you think my family cares about me too!?" Clark screamed, "You're not the only one who wants to kill to get home!"

"Yeah, well my family cares about me; Ellen's fed up with you, in case you haven't noticed!" Neal lambasted him. "You've ticked her off so much she'd leave for another man at the next screw-up you make, and quite frankly, I wouldn't blame her!"

"Well at least I'm there to screw up in front of them, Neal; you stay up in your ivory towers in the Big Apple and ignore them like there's no tomorrow!" Clark shot back, "Who's the better parent now, ha!?"

This totally set Neal off. He grabbed Clark roughly by the coat collar. "And who do you, the biggest idiot in Illinois, to tell me that I'm wrong!" he snarled. "Just because I'm not there doesn't mean I don't care for them! I'd love to be there with them, and from now on I'm going to be there with them, but the rest of the trip will be without you at my side, because I'm going to come home alive and in one piece!" "Good, because I'm not spending another minute with you!" Clark turned his back to Neal. Neal didn't care in the least. "Come on, Del, we're leaving," he said, taking the big man's hand.

"I can't just leave him, Neal," Del said.

"Del, you have absolutely no obligation to Captain Moron here, so come on," Neal tried dragging him up the road. Del held firm. "Wrong; I do have a moral one," he said.

"Del, let me set something straight, the world is not the goody-two shoes place you think it is!" Neal shouted in his face, "You have to get vicious sometimes, you know, and this is one of those times!"

"No, I'm afraid you're wrong there, Neal; the world.." Del started to say.

"And while I'm on the subject of how hopelessly nice you are to people who don't deserve it," Neal continued, "let me bring out your poor excuse for a stepson. John Bender's better off in a maximum security prison. The nicest thing he could ever say to another person is, 'Hi, hungry? Here's a knuckle sandwich!' But do you even notice? No! You act like Jim Anderson and try to take him under your wings and teach him your Ozzie and Harriet bit! Give it up for the love of God, because you'll never get through to him even if God in Heaven came to help! Until you learn to show some people toughness, you'll never be able to get to the real world, Del!"

Del looked defensive now. "I can see you've still got the elitist bit on your shoulder, Neal," he said, "And I'm still going to keep trying to get through to John, whether you like it or not. And I think you're being rather cruel to Clark here."

"Are you coming with me, Del, or staying with Captain Stupid?" Neal jerked a harsh finger a Clark, "You can't have it both ways, so make up your mind now!"

"Well if you have to put it that way Neal, I choose Clark," Del put his hand on Clark's shoulder.

"Fine!" Neal growled, "Who needs you anyway!? You still shoot your mouth off half the time anyway! I'm going on by myself, and don't either of you follow me!" He started to storm off.

"You know what else Neal?" Clark called after him.

"What!?" Neal didn't turn back.

"You've got a small woody; so small you can't even do any ball-handling!" was Clark's parting insult.

"Screw you!" Neal snapped. He disappeared into the storm.

"Well, in about two hours, he'll be just like I was when I came into you guy's path yesterday," Clark said to Del as they leaned up against the truck's front bumper.

"That's what worries me," Del said, looking very worried.

"Oh come on, Del, after the way he just told us off, he deserves to be a block of ice for a few hours!" Clark argued.

"But he's still a good friend, and he'll die if he's out in this mess for very long," Del said. "Somehow we've got to get him out of there, and soon."

"Silver and gold, silver and gold," Miles and Maizy sang along with Sam the Snowman on the TV screen, "means so much more when I see...."

"Silver and gold decorations on every Christmas tree," Buck finished the verse with a deep fake falsetto. He chuckled at all the others in the Russell's living room. Even Chanice managed a laugh at this. She'd given him a couple more kisses on the way back, and Buck had the bright feeling that their relationship was back on track.

The phone rang. "Don't worry, I'll get it," Buck said, lumbering over to the phone. "Yeah?" he said into it.

"Buck, it's me," came Bob's voice on the other end, "Cindy and I are stuck at a rest stop on I-65 about halfway between the Indiana and Illinois border. They've shut down the interstate, and I don't know how long we'll be here. You and the kids going to be OK for the night?"

"Oh, I guess we will be," Buck told him, "The question is, will you?"

"Well they do have food available, and heat too--that's most important--so I guess we'll be fine, but Cindy wanted to make sure than everything was in order here at the house," Bob told him, "After yesterday, she's taking no chances."

"Well I guess I could see that," Buck commented. "For the record, tell her everything's under control here."

"Right, she'll be pleased," Bob said, "Put one of the kids on."

"Gotcha," Buck turned to the kids. "Who wants to talk to your dad?"

"I do," both Miles and Maizy ran for the phone. Buck handed it to Miles first. "Share it when you're done," he told him. He turned back into the living room, and for the first time noticed in detail the book Cutter had brought with him. "Seabiscuit, huh?" he remarked, looking it over, "I don't read much, but this was a good one."

"Now that's something we both agree with," Cutter told him, "It's almost fitting how the author's a paraplegic herself, bringing this great story to life. I hung out a lot at Belmont Park back in New York, and it's....."

"Oh, so you're into that too!?" Buck exclaimed, "Well, maybe I did misjudge you after all." He then said, "Yeah, I can relate to Seabiscuit a lot, the down and out guy who nobody gives a chance that rockets his way to the top. Kinda like me."

"Only you're still a long way from the top," Chanice said, but she was smiling.

"Well, I still have to use the telescope to see it, but it's getting a bit clearer," Buck chuckled.

"So I guess this means you and Cutter have buried the hatchet--in the non-literal way," Tia said.

"Yep, I offer my deepest apologies to him here and now," Buck extended his hand to Cutter, who shook it without a second thought. "Glad you're willing to give me a chance now, Mr. Russell," he said.

"Well unlike some people, I'm willing to admit when I erred," Buck said. "Obviously your dad's another matter--no offense."

"None taken," Cutter said, "I never really warmed up to him anyway. He's always been distant and cold most of the time, spending all his time at work and leaving me all by myself. It was only by extreme prodding that he even got around to take me out for my birthday the other night."

"And now when I look back, I don't even know why I fell for his act," Chanice said, sighing, "To think I almost gave up my life's work just to rekindle an old spark."

"Look at the bright side, Chanice, it wasn't anything I wouldn't do," Buck told her.

"Will we be doing anything tomorrow, UB?" Miles asked him, having handed the phone over to Maizy.

"Well first I'll have to shovel us out, Miles, but after I finish off the last two interviews with the parents I would have done tonight, and if the roads aren't too bad, maybe we'll go sledding at Crystal Mountain," Buck told him, referring to the popular ski and sled resort about forty miles to the northwest of Chicago.

"All right!" Miles pumped his fist--sledding was another passion of his. "And what if the roads aren't good?" Tia asked him.

"Well, then, I guess we'll just sled off the roof, then," Buck suggested. "Buck, really!" Chanice raised her eyebrows.

"Well with the way the snow's coming down out there, Chanice, there's be at least a thirty inch snow bed; nobody'll get hurt falling into that," Buck argued, "The distance from roof to ground will only be minimal."

"I've got a better idea, Buck," Chanice told him, "After you finish your conferences, we'll stop by my shop and pick up snow chains. Then we'll be able to handle any highway."

"Works for me," Buck smiled.

"And also, let me just say that I'm surprised you'd be so willing to actually take conferences with parents, especially around Christmas," Chanice said, sounding very pleased, "You used to never want to work for at least four days around Christmas. What made you become so interested in a job you never really liked in the first place?"

"Well Chanice, once I got to see that the kids need help, and that the regular teachers are too lazy or stuck up to do anything themselves, I guess I just changed for the better, "Buck admitted.

"Well that's one change I'd have never expected," Chanice said, "I really like it happening, though."

"So in other words, we all underestimated each other," Tia said, hugging Cutter closer.

"That we did, Tia, that we did," Buck said, plopping back down in the reclining chair in the living room. "Well, I see you two are getting along better now," he said to Cecil and Percy next to the chair, "You guys want some more beer as a reward?"