The weekend comes and goes as it always does, with too much Malcolm in the Middle and Good Eats, but I’m not complaining. Monday is a blur, it always is. Tuesday isn’t much different. Benjamin seems to have learned that I’m not much of a talker and I don’t like people who are. He’s been relatively quiet the past few days, and I appreciate that.
Mr. Stewart has been gone, and it has been heaven. Seriously, the sub gives us our assignments and we get to sit and do our work in peace, it’s become an ideal math class.
Wednesday comes and it seems Benjamin is feeling chatty. “I’ve learned something about Nevada.” He says.
“What’s that?”
“It sucks.”
I set my plastic spork down and look at him, I give him the look. “You don’t know who you’re talking to, buddy. I bleed blue and silver and I wear sagebrush for cologne. I am battle born and battle raised so you better have a damn good argument if you want to try and say that shit.”
He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “What’s so great about it? There’s a bland, brown landscape, the people are rude, and there’s nothing to do. Plus it’s hot as balls and there’s no grass or shade to cool off in.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying, the desert is beautiful. Have you ever seen the sky at night, watched the sunset over the mountains, swam in a spring that nobody’s ever seen before? No, you haven’t. You have no right to say Nevada sucks.”
He shakes his head. “The sky in Tennessee is the same sky you see here, so is the sunset, and swimming in some random pond is dangerous. You’ll get cholera.”
I laugh. “I’ve never gotten cholera, don’t piss in the water and you’ll be fine.”
“Still just brown on brown on brown.” He says, poking at his mashed potatoes.
“No, it isn’t. You’ve just never really been in the desert. I’m telling you, it’s different.” I nod. “Most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.”
“Nope, I like color. Specifically green. Beautiful green hills with trees.”
I shake my head. “I’m going to take you to the desert.” I surprise myself in saying that. I’ve never taken anybody anywhere before. “Are you busy this weekend?”
“Nope, you drive?”
“Yeah, you can ride the bus with me on Friday, we’ll go to my place and head out.”
“You don’t drive to school?”
“My truck doesn’t reach 65.”
“Oh, is it safe to drive?”
I laugh. “It’s safe.”
We’re quiet after that, I can’t believe he doesn’t like Nevada, I’ve never met anyone that says they hate this place. I love this place, half the time it’s the only thing that really makes me happy. Its beauty makes me enjoy living.
I haven’t hung out with anybody in years—since I got my license I haven’t even hung out with my family in the desert. Just me and Alton.
My anxiety has peaked by Friday, I sit down at lunch and Benjamin joins me. “You still taking me to the desert?” He asks as soon as he sits down.
“If you still want to go.”
“Yep.”
“You got a sleeping bag? Might get cold.”
“We’re staying overnight?”
“Can’t see the night sky unless you wait for night and I don’t like driving in the dark.”
He laughs. “I guess we’ll have to stop by my house.”
“Nah, you can borrow one of ours, we have quite a few.”
“Okay.”
At the end of the day, he joins me outside of the math building and we get on my bus. I feel so awkward, I have no idea what to say to him. We haven’t spoken outside of lunch and I haven’t talked to anyone my age outside of school in years.
We ride the bus in silence, then get off and walk to my house. Vinny’s car is here, which is good. It means they’ll be in the garage. “I’m gonna run inside and grab some stuff, I’ll be right back.”
I go inside, grab a sleeping bag, my CD binder, and my dog. I also grab a pillow for Benjamin—I have a blanket and pillow that I leave in the truck. I’m back outside and Benjamin is observing my truck. “Nice wheels. “ He looks at me, then at Alton. “I didn’t know you had a dog!”
He hunkers down and lets Alton lick his face. I put the stuff in the back of the truck. “His name is Alton.”
Benjamin laughs and stands up. “He’s sweet.”
“He’s supposed to be a tough guard dog.” I ruffle his ears and lift him into the back of the truck, Benjamin gets in on the passenger side, I get behind the wheel. “You bring a bathing suit?”
“Yep.”
“Good, we might go swimming tomorrow if the springs not dried up. Pick a CD.” I give him my binder and back out of the driveway. He chooses a Beastie Boys album, Licensed to Ill, one of my favorites. We rock out to “Fight for Your Right” and “No Sleep Til Brooklyn” the whole way to my spot.
I turn off the truck, the music stops. We’re left in silence. “Alright, grab a water, let’s go.”
“Did you bring anything to eat?” He asks.
“Peanut butter and jelly for dinner and breakfast unless you want dog food.”
“Peanut butter and jelly sounds fine.”
Alton leaps out of the truck and we begin the hike.
I step confidently over the loose gravel on smooth rocks, when I need to climb, I know exactly where to put my hands and feet, I slide easily down gravelly slopes and avoid sandy areas so my shoes aren’t filled by the time we get the bristlecone.
Benjamin is less graceful. He skins his knees on the first gravelly rock, he has no idea how to climb up even the simplest inclines, and he stumbles down slopes. “Haven’t gotten your land legs?” I ask, laughing as he struggles to get his footing.
“Shut up, I’m used to grass and trees to help my balance.”
I laugh harder. “This hike has never taken me this long.”
“Whatever.” He dusts himself off and we keep going.
“Alright.” I say, dropping the backpack with extra waters and Alton’s bowl in the dirt. “Here we are.” I plop down onto my rock and sigh, I twist the cap off a water and down nearly the whole thing. I give Alton a bowl of water which he quickly laps up.
“This is it?” Benjamin says panting. “All that work for a tree? God.” He sits against the bristlecone. I’m quiet, if we wait a few minutes we’ll hear the bugs buzzing and the birds singing. The hawk that lives a ways away might visit, we might see some horses or cows. The sparrows and bluebirds may even get cocky and come land on the bush next to me, the lizards will skitter over the sand at our feet and Alton will definitely try to chase them.
Instead, Benjamin keeps talking. “You know, I’ve just been complaining about how there’s no trees, and you keep saying the desert is beautiful without trees but here you are, taking me to a tree.”
“Mmhmm.” He keeps going on about how Tennessee is so much better, I finally say, “Benjamin, if you would just shut up for five minutes, you would understand why it’s so peaceful.”
He shuts up. He doesn’t say anything for a while. He picks up a stick and starts tracing it through the dirt. After what is probably ten or fifteen minutes he finally says, “I don’t get what I’m supposed to be doing. Is there some trick to enjoying this?”
“Yeah, look around and appreciate the desert.” He looks around.
“I see dirt and sand and rocks, wow, there’s even some scrubby bushes. How cool.”
I roll my eyes and point to a sagebrush bush near my feet. “Look at that orb spider, did you notice that? And look at that,” I point to a blue belly who’s been staying impressively still so Alton won’t notice it. I get up and catch it before it knows what’s happening. I flip it onto its back and stroke the blue scales. It stops struggling. “Isn’t this awesome, how can you not love these little lizards? It just sits there.” I point up in the tree. “There’s a dove nest up there, and if you had been listening you would have heard the babies chirping and the parents calling.” I point at the sky where a few turkey vultures circle. “Vultures, I bet if we followed them for a while we’d find something pretty cool.
“To appreciate the desert you have to look, okay? If you look you’ll realize it’s beautiful.” I shove the blue belly into his hands, it flips upside right and starts to struggle. Benjamin is stunned, frozen in what I can only assume is either bewilderment or surprise. “Turn it over and stroke its stomach.”
He does what I tell him and the lizard stops struggling. “Is it okay?” He asks.
“Yeah, it’s just asleep or something, I don’t know why they do it. It’s cool, though, right?” I reach into the sagebrush bush and nudge the spider onto my hand, since they aren’t poisonous there’s nothing to worry about. Benjamin looks on with fascination.
“What if it bites you?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Never been bitten by one before and they aren’t poisonous.”
He puts the lizard down and it skitters off, Alton chases it but it gets to safety before he can do any damage. “Can I hold it?” He asks. He’s like a little kid, I have to laugh.
“Yeah, here.” I let the spider crawl into his open hands.
He smiles. “Weird.”
“Cool.” I say. He holds it for a few more seconds and lets it go back into the bush. I break off a few leaves of the sagebrush and rub it between my fingers. “How can you not love this smell?”
He copies me and scrunches his nose. “I don’t like it.”
I roll my eyes. I tell him more about the desert, about the horses and deer, the antelope and coyotes, the cows, the snakes, the lizards, the birds. I talk so much my throat actually starts to hurt. The sun has begun its descent, so we head back. He needs to watch the sun set over the mountains and feel the world cool down, watch the stars appear and make the desert glow again.
We sit in the back of my truck with the doors open, which I strategically pointed towards the sunset. We got lucky with the clouds, they’re perfect for a beautiful sunset, not too many, not too few. It’s beautiful either way but more so with proper cloud placement. I just hope they’re all gone before the stars come out.
“What makes this so different from a sunset in Tennessee?” Benjamin asks as we wait for the sky to turn.
“You can actually see it. No pesky trees or light pollution out here. You can see the whole sky.”
And the sky becomes pink, oranges join and it’s like the whole world has been set on fire. There are reds that are so vibrant it hurts to look at them, the clouds glow from the inside. Where the fire meets the blue sky it’s a soft purple, and as the sun sets further the vibrant colors of the fire become softer, pale purples and blues.
I sigh as the sun disappears and the sky goes a dark blue. “C’mon, we have to lay on the roof.”
He nods. He has stopped questioning me. Or he’s gotten tired of my answers. He lays on the roof next to me. I have never done this with another person. I’ve laid up here hundreds of times, and there has never been another body next to me.
I used to do it when I went camping with my parents but I would sneak out in the middle of the night and appreciate the sky alone. It feels so awkward with Benjamin here and I struggle not to squirm or shift too much. This is something I’ve never shared with another person, I’ve never even told anyone that I do it. It’s private.
So why did I invite Benjamin to join me? I don’t know him at all, I don’t even know if I like him. He usually annoys me so why did I invite him to my special place to partake in my sacred ritual? I don’t even know if he appreciates this kind of thing.
It’s too late to kick him out now.
“This is incredible.” He says, so quiet I can barely hear him. I gaze up at the constellations.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Different than Tennessee.” He whispers. I glance over at him, his profile is lit up with a glow from the cosmos, his blue eyes look white in the soft light. A breeze ruffles his hair and his clothes, the sound of the rippling bushes and trees in the wind reaches my ears. It’s a beautiful sound.
I look back at the stars. I wish I knew some constellations, but I never took the time to learn. I don’t mind too much—I know the Big Dipper and I can find the North Star and Orion’s Belt when it’s visible.
We don’t say anything else for the rest of the night, even when it’s time to go into the truck and sleep, we’re silent. It’s nice, and it makes me realize I have never felt so close to someone in my life.
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