Dust

Sitting here I know I deserve this. I asked for it.

The sun is getting hotter by the second, and I don’t move to get out of the microwave that is my car. It’s also a possibility that the engine is going to blow up, but I don’t care. I want to sit here and bake, and at this rate I’ll be a blackened piece of gristle at any moment. Sweat is already soaking through the blue cotton under my arms, there’s a bead rolling down my neck and it tickles like hell. But I don’t move to wipe it away.

I look outside and see nothing but dead yellow land. The air is so hot and dry that every time I breathe in it’s like swallowing sand. I try smacking my lips together, wincing because they’re just about to split open in this heat. This heat is the most incredible thing I’ve ever experienced. Should it be able to get this hot? Am I dreaming? Is this the sun?

I’m literally amazed that people come here willingly. I’ve been here all of three hours and I want to die. There’s a disgusted voice in the back of my head telling me this isn’t how guys behave. Men should be able to handle extreme heat without wallowing like I am. I scoff at the voice and remind it of my behavior in the last few weeks. It shuts up about my behavior now, silently fuming at what a fool I’ve made of myself.

My friends think I’m mentally ill, and probably they’re right. I don’t speak to anyone, I only go to work because I have to, and I spent every waking moment in a haze of confusion. When I sleep all I do is dream about her. So I don’t sleep much.

I sigh because soon I will die of heat exhaustion. Somehow I saw this coming as I got in my car two days ago. I drove all this way and now I’m going to die. I feel betrayed by the universe and thankful for this moment at the same time. By some twist of fate my car that never gave me any trouble before started smoking and clunking in the area I’d been dreading going through.

Too hot. I can’t breathe so I pull the release handle and set my foot on the cracking pavement. There’s a light breeze, so it’s slightly better outside. The silence is odd, much quieter than anything I’ve ever heard. All I hear is wind and my shallow breathing. For a minute I think I hear footsteps, then I shake my head and it’s gone.

I walk around the steaming front of my car. I have to take a quick step back, almost falling down the one foot drop on the side of the road. I think back to pulling my car over and thank whatever force has led me here for not letting me drive down it and screw up my car further. I step down carefully, then stare out over the expanse of desert.

It’s sandy and dry like the air. As far as I can see there’s desert, a bush here and a hill there. No shade. The only shade is coming from my car, and now that I’m two feet away from it there’s no going back. I start walking.

My footsteps echo strangely in the noiseless void. I look around and expect to see someone watching me, but I’m alone. I’ve been alone since I watched her get on the bus and wave, disappearing slowly. I can still see her face, sunglasses hiding her eyes even though it was early and still dark out. I think she was crying and didn’t want me to see.

I take long strides and do so for a long time. I’m not thinking relative to time anymore, my head throbbing and my throat already aching. It was stupid of me not to bring the lukewarm bottle of water from the cup-holder, but oh well. I glance over my shoulder and I can’t see my car anymore. The sun moved, too. My tongue hurts when I run it over my teeth, and I think of how cats feel.

My shirt is soaked through with sweat, but when I touch my arm it’s as devoid of moisture as everything else. My heart is a frantic tribal dance inside my searing chest. Where’s that breeze from earlier? I’m so warm. How long has it been? I’ve never heard my breath coming so fast, so loud in my ears. I want the fucking silence back.

“Murphy!”

I stagger to a halt because I said the forbidden word. My hands are numb but I know they’re shaking at my sides. I haven’t said her name for months. It tastes like honey and fresh cilantro. Very refreshing compared to the sand collecting in my teeth.

“Murphy…” I say it again, testing the waters. Nothing happens so I start repeating it under my labored breath like a chant. Maybe if I believe in her hard enough she’ll show up like some kind of desert goddess, bringing water and hope. I’ve never wanted water like I want it now. I know I’ve lost whatever supply I had in my body. I know I’m dehydrated, and it’s getting worse.

My muscles are tightening, forcing my legs to walk stiffly like I’m a toy soldier. Left…left…left, right, left. I think back the summer before I started high school, when our air conditioner quit working and it was almost a hundred degrees inside. I never thought I’d be hotter than that, but I am. In fact, I’ve surpassed hot. My skin has taken on a life of its own, clinging to my overheating muscles and organs to hold them together.

I realize I’m still saying ‘Murphy’. I shut my mouth and swallow, wincing at the sensation of gulping down hot glass. I never wanted to die slowly. For the longest time I didn’t even think about death, or when I did I was an old guy surrounded by family. Now I can see that this is where I’m supposed to die. The end of the line. Finito. Goodbye cruel world.

“What in the hell are you talking about, Shane?”

Holy hell.

In surprise I spin around, but that’s a mistake. There’s so little energy left in me I can’t stand up. My knees buckle and I go down like a sycamore, no fight in my muscles. I’m so far gone now I don’t even feel the impact, though I’m sure it’s hard. A puff of dust comes up around my body, some going down my throat. I choke, but with no saliva left the dust stays there, so I don’t fight it. My cheek is on sand.

“Murphy.” I repeat, because I’ve just heard her voice. I’m definitely hallucinating.

An impatient sigh comes from above me. “Shane, this is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done. Even for you this is histrionic.”

But I don’t even know what histrionic means, though it sounds like something she would say. I turn my head a bit more, try to look up. I blink frantically at the sun, wishing it wasn’t blinding me. My corneas screech and try to hide behind my eyelids, but I swear there’s a thin shadow next to me.

“No one should be out in this heat. The ground is ninety degrees on the surface, you know. I’m sure you do, your shirt is absolutely soaked with sweat.”

I hear her voice and smile into the dirt. It’s been so long since I smashed our answering machine. So long since we met at that campus bookstore. So long since she explained she came from London to study photography, and the whole time I was staring at her eyes because they were the most wonderful shade of brown I had ever seen. I haven’t seen more beautiful since. I think I knew then I loved her.

“Are you just going to lay there and ignore me? Hm?”

She’s so real it sends pain spiraling in and out of my stomach. But then again that could be the dehydration. I’m convinced this is a dream, maybe a gift from whatever deity is watching me for enduring this pain, though I have brought it on myself.

“Get up, Shane. Seriously.” a hand that is so cold it hurts in contrast to the heat drags me up. I can’t feel my legs. She sighs. “You know I love you, but really now. All this over me? You wouldn’t even say you loved me back.”

That’s the shot in the gut I need. I lean over and puke, though I haven’t eaten so nothing comes out except a bit of bile. It really hurts my throat. Jesus.

“Go back to your car and move on with your life. I died here, but you aren’t going to. Are we clear?”

I nod and fall over.

“Son?…Son, can you hear me?”

There’s a cop tapping on my car window. I blink at him and roll down my window, the movement making me realize that I am as wet as if I’d just crawled out of a pool. The cop looks happy to see I’m not dead.

“Having some car trouble, I see.”

Again, I nod. Then I say the first thing I think. “It’s hotter than balls out here.”

“Uh huh.” the cop nods and smiles, peering at me through his very reflective aviator sunglasses. Oh God, I look like absolute hell. Murphy would…

Suddenly I whirl around and see nothing. No trench coat, no short wavy brown hair, no gigantic smile and donkey laugh. Shit. I fucking hallucinated. I didn’t even get out of my car…I think.

“Well, I’ll get a tow truck out here right away…This is kind of a dangerous spot for a break down.”

I swallow and it tastes like puke and dirt. “Yeah…I heard a girl died here a year ago.”

He doesn’t know what to say, and taps his meaty hand on the roof of my car.

Strangely enough I feel better. I even smile at the desert that I walked across in my mind. She’s gone. I love her and she’s gone. Huh.

Dust to dust.