Desert Road

The 3 o’clock sun burned the back of my neck as I crawled down the dusty, deserted, desert road. My shoes were gone, worn straight through hundreds of miles ago. My clothes, or at least what was left of them, were in tatters and like the rest of me, dusty as hell. I hadn’t touched a bed in years. As for showers, you’d sooner find one on the sun. The last shave I had was two years ago, my face slashed, my wallet and backpack taken. But don’t be mistaken. I’m not homeless. No, my home is the world, every continent, country and city. I have a traditional home too, assuming it hasn’t been foreclosed... or destroyed.
As I crawled down the aforementioned dusty, deserted, desert road I realized that it was an extremely stupid decision to go there. Now, alone, without food, without water, I waited to die. Still pushing on, hoping that I would find someone, or something to help me. Some arcane force kept me going in spite of pain, in spite of sickness, and in spite of injury. I just continued on my way, dirty, bloody, burnt and tired. Never stopping, continually slowing down, and with my energy depleting I saw something that I never I imagined I would. I was filled with an ecstasy that I had never felt before. So now to still the beating of my heart I lie repeating, “It’s just a vision from not eating, and I need to drink some more. Just a vision from not eating and I need to drink some more. This it is and nothing more.” My mind never slowed down, my thoughts were eventually thought to the rhythms of my favorite poems. It kept me sane. But of course by some more, I meant some. Any really, any small bit of liquid would help. I thought with all my heart that what I saw was a vision, and to further cement that supposed truth in my mind I never attempted to move from the center of the road.
My vision, this car, was getting closer, and I continued to get angry at myself for seeing it. This desperate attempt by my mind to bring human civilization back into my life was tearing at the walls of my sanity, making me crazy. Still crawling, angry at myself, I realized that it was real. It had hit me, and I could tell that it had broken my legs. It drove on. So now, I was on the dusty, deserted, desert road, with burnt skin, no shoes, no water, no food, and rapidly depleting amounts of that arcane force that kept me going. I couldn’t crawl any farther. I just lie there, knowing that I would die soon. I was calm. I was serene. I was a bit nervous. Everything drifted off into blackness.

It was cool. No more desert heat burning me. I couldn’t see very clearly. I rubbed my eyes, things somewhat cleared. I was on my back. On a cushion. I sat up. I was in a car.
“Hi, I’m Steve, take this.” The driver said. He handed me a bottle of water. Why so cordial? Strange…I felt stronger than I had outside.
“Nothing stronger?”
“No, I’m a recovering alcoholic. Twelve years sober.”
“Oh, ok” Out of everyone who could’ve hit me, I got the sober one.
“Sorry for hitting you, I thought you were just some garbage or something. I only got out to see if my car was okay. Then I saw the blood…” Would he ever shut up?
“So I turned back to see what I had hit, and found you, and put you in my car.”
“Oh, okay...”
“Good, how do you feel?”
“I’m great, and except for being hungry, bloody, sunburned and broken, I’m outstanding.”
“No need to be so angry. I’m doing everything I can. I could have just left you there to die.”
I guess he was right. I took a drink of water.
“That feels great.”
“What, the water?”
“Yeah, and the A/C”
I just saw my leg, and the splint. How did I not notice it?
“You splinted my leg?”
“Oh, yeah, it looked broken.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
A few minutes of silence.
“I’m gonna try to take a nap, okay?”
“Alright” he said, “use this for a pillow.” He handed me a bundle of clothes.
“Thanks.”
He was too nice.
I lay back, after a while I got to thinking about her. Remembering our happiness. Wondering what it could’ve been. I wondered why this man picked up a bloody vagabond in the middle of nowhere. I couldn’t think of any reason. I lifted the bundle to shift it around, make it more comfortable, and I saw a white collar. He was a priest.
From inside the car it was a truly beautiful day. Few clouds, bright blue sky. I saw a hawk dive down and grab some small animal, whose blood trailed to the ground as the hawk climbed higher. The bird was weighed down by its prey. It couldn’t hold it any longer. The hawk opened its talons and released the animal. Now free of its heavy burden, it flew free, away, probably to go find another meal.
The only thing I had from my old life was a picture of my wife and our kids. They were beautiful. They were the reason I left in the first place. They were dead, killed early in the morning, while she was driving them to school. It should have been me in that car. Just me, by myself. The kids wanted to stay home that day. They tried to fake sick.
Now I was afraid to fall asleep. I would dream of them, their faces would haunt me. This wasn’t a time to be alone. I sat up.
“Not tired?” the man said.
“No, very much so, I just can’t fall asleep.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Are you a priest?” I wanted to make sure.
“Very blunt, huh?” he laughed. “Yeah, I’m a priest.”
“Catholic?”
“Yeah”
“I’m Catholic.”
“Really? Where from?”
“Boston.”
“I have family there. Do you know the Sullivans?”
“Many,” I laughed, “it’s not exactly a unique name.”
“I guess not.” he chuckled. “How long have you been away?”
“2005.”
“The Sox won the series again.”
“Really? Wow, that’s great.”
“Yep, swept it, again.”
“Amazing, amazing. Who’d they beat?”
“The Rockies.”
“That’s great. I’m sorry I missed it.”
It was nearing dark. I felt strange. Like I never had before. A new, different type of tired.
“I really am going to try and get some sleep now.”
“Okay, we’ll be to a hospital in a few hours. You’ll get better, I’ll get you where you’re going. It’ll be great.”
“Thanks a lot. Really.”
“No problem. Just doing my duty as a Christian. Do you have family?”
I thought about it. I had once had family. They never left me.
“Yes.”
“You’ll see them soon.”
“Yes, I believe I will.”