by Kent L. Johnson
Rodney took a sip of water and put the canteen back between his sleeping bag and the pickup bed. The tepid water slid down his throat as he closed his eyes and sat very still. The heat of the afternoon desert sun scoured the sand surrounding him and streaked the top of the camper shell.
I need to control my energy and moisture loss, stay still, stay calm.
He pulled the small pickup truck into the desert four days ago and followed a makeshift road, filled with ruts and stones into the vast expanse. The rural highway was out of sight. A leafless paloverde tree had a crown of green finger-like branches that offered shade. He eased the truck down a hill into a little canyon wash and parked under the tree. Shade was essential to survive in the desert.
Fifty gallons of water and enough canned food to last a month were stashed in the truck. He walked just before dawn as far as he could while still keeping the paloverde in view and returned to camp by mid morning, before the heat became extreme. He was looking for a water source and food to hunt or gather. He had a little over a thousand dollars left to his name hidden in the pickup, just in case he had to return to civilization for more supplies. An hour before dusk, he walked again, not as far, searching for food, conserving his water and energy like the desert animals did.
Mr. Kingsmyer, Rodney's high school biology teacher, had been a desert fanatic. He taught the students how animals and plants survived in the hostile environment, 'active at night when the sun won't bake you,' Rodney recalled. 'Live in the shade or underground during the day. Sweat is the most inefficient form of cooling your body. Radiate heat back into space, that's why jackrabbits have such big ears.' All these thoughts crept into and out of his mind as he lay in the pickup bed atop of his bedding, naked, so any breeze removed heat from his skin. The temperature had to be over forty-two Centigrade, that was about a hundred and six plus in Fahrenheit. Rodney learned science well from Mr. Kingsmyer. That was way back, over twelve years ago.
His ex-wife hated the desert. He tried to bring her on an outing and she complained about the heat, the barrenness, and the monotony of the landscape. She wanted to go home, have ice cream, watch television. The three-hour trip from San Diego to the wilderness nestled just before the Imperial Valley was a waste of time, a waste of gas and hours of her life she would never get back.
She'll see now. I'm here and I can survive in the desert. I don't need the city, or her, or the Church.
He still didn't understand how he got to this point. He had done everything right. He listened to his parents, did his homework and did well in school. He went to church every week and prayed every night. His father told him to study accounting in college because all business' need number people, so he would always have a job. He married a girl from church, not a beauty, but nice and stable. Now, no job, no girl.
The sun dropped close to the horizon as he slid out of the pickup bed and pulled his clothes on. He started walking away from the camp to the northeast, the sun on his back to the southwest. He walked with a thick, long Manzanita branch as a staff. The red smooth wood took on an otherworldly glow in the long desert sun as it crunched into the sand. That morning he set two simple drop traps triggered with mist netting to catch jackrabbits for food. He caught one rabbit in the last four days. Snakes dropped the boxes two other times. He saw the snakes in the boxes, but wasn't sure how to get them out so he left the boxes down, hoping the snakes would perish from exposure. He didn't want to get bit by a snake, here in the desert, all alone. The snakes eventually burrowed out from under the wooden frame, leaving the boxes empty.
Sounds of mice or lizards darting under shrubs as he walked put him on edge in the soundless void of empty space. He always expected to hear the rattle of a viper's tail, but with the exception of one the trapped snakes, he did not see a rattler. Small birds flew from shrubs to trees, chirping alertly as the sun filtered down, below the hills to the west. The traps contained nothing tonight. Perhaps tomorrow, he would find a new location to set them. He pulled on gloves and picked some cactus fruit to eat. Prickly pear fruit was common and he rubbed the spines off and placed a few in his pocket. He cut a few pieces of the spineless cactus that formed a short clump next to a rock by one of his traps. He remembered Mr. Kingsmyer collecting these cacti on a field trip. He walked back to camp, using the green tree as his guide.
Rodney placed some dried wood found under a nearby acacia into a pit near his truck and set it on fire. He piled more wood on until a bed of coals gently glowed in the pit. He opened up a can of stew and placed it next to the coals and hot rocks and allowed it to heat. He could see bats flying in their haphazard manner chasing moths and other insects in the night sky. He glimpsed a kangaroo rat hopping in the distance, it's eyes aglow from the fire's reflection.
Steam escaped from the open can of stew in the fire. He lifted the can with padded gloves and stirred it with a spoon. He ate and wondered what his parents would think of him now. He always wanted to please them, and did everything they asked, not like his sister. His sister ran away with European kid who was backpacking across the United States. She was just sixteen. Rodney's parents said they tried to find her but weren't successful. His mother swore his older sister was married to a European Industrialist's son. Said she saw her picture in People Magazine, years after she ran away. She was dressed nice, looked happy and healthy, but she was a sinner. She would pay in the afterlife.
Mr. Kingsmyer arranged for his biology classes to go on desert field trips. Once during the summer, he arranged a desert trip for families. Rodney talked his parents into taking him to the desert and listening to Mr. Kingsmyer's talk on natural history. He remembered his father was unhappy because Mr. Kingsmyer mentioned evolution. 'He was confused,' his father said, there is no such thing as evolution. It said so in the Bible.
Rodney ate his stew and figured that maybe his parents resisted the evidence of evolution because they believed so hard in the Church. Five years ago his parents left to be missionaries in Borneo. They told him that if something happened to them, the church was to get anything they had. They sold their house and all their possession's, placing the funds in a trust in joint with the church. 'We gave you an education and a way to make a living. You found yourself a good church going woman. You are on your own Rodney, we've done all we could. Now we need to help the heathen's that don't know the benefits of living in God's world.' Rodney could hear his father's voice as clear as if he were standing next to him.
Things didn't go quite as you planned Dad. Perhaps you could be wrong about evolution too?
His Dad couldn't see the recession coming. That wasn't in the Bible. Not just his job, but four hundred other accountants lost their jobs in the firm. Only the senior partners seemed to pull out of the catastrophe unscathed. Four hundred accountants all out of work at once made finding new work difficult.
Mr. Kingsmyer had a pair of Kangaroo rats in the classroom. The rats lived in a small wide mouthed jar and never needed water. Just a piece of lettuce once in a while along with dried grains. They were adapted to the desert. They lived in harmony with nature. Aborigines also lived in harmony in the interior Australian deserts, according to Mr. Kingsmyer. The native people often times they went on Quests, living off the land in the desert, speaking to spirits of the land, getting advice for a better life.
Maybe that's why I'm here, a quest?
Rodney chewed on the spineless cactus. The taste was bitter and he swallowed the juice after a few chews and spit the rest out. He peeled the Prickly pears and chewed on the sweet moist flesh and it slowly replaced the bitter taste of peyote from his mouth. He took off his clothes and climbed under the light blanket at the back of the truck. The sip of water slid down his throat from the canteen and he laid back, staring at the roof of the camper. When Europeans, white people, like himself, came to America, the natives managed to catch all manner of diseases and perish.
I wonder if my parents spread disease throughout Borneo like the Europeans did to Native American's? I wonder if anyone ever counted the number of germs on the cover of a Bible?
The sound of coyotes yelping in the distance allowed his mind to focus on something other than his life for a moment. Smoke from the dying campfire filtered into the camper from open windows. The smoke wasn't thick, but Rodney's mind grew hazy as the barks and yelps of coyotes played in the background. He was going to see a vision. He always saw visions after eating peyote.
Rodney thought of his life once more. He was always shy and worried about committing sins. He rarely played with boys his own age and virtually never talked to a girl, but Kathleen was different. She was a large girl, and not shy. Kathleen's parents were close to Rodney's parents. Their families visited each other regularly ever since Rodney was six or seven. Rodney's sister and Kathleen talked together frequently before his sister ran away.
After his sister ran off, Kathleen and Rodney talked. She told Rodney that his sister and she discussed sex. He was embarrassed as he listened to Kathleen talk of the raw biological function and mechanics. His body had a hard time controlling itself during these talks and it wasn't long before Kathleen talked Rodney into situations where she could see him unclothed. Eventually, she seduced him. This was a sin beyond his imagination. His grief and fear of his parents and hers, let alone God, overwhelmed him. He asked Kathleen to marry him soon after they had done the deed and she accepted.
I should have known a girl that didn't like the desert wasn't for me.
Matt Rivers was a slight man like Rodney, perhaps five seven, weighed one-fifty. He played guitar in the church rock and roll band. He also played the blues at a club in town. Kathleen said he asked her for help getting the sound settings correct when he played at the club. Rodney didn't think the alcohol he smelled on Kathleen after she got home from the club was too bad, after all she was still sober. She needed to get out of the house too. Her parents and Rodney's both left to Borneo. He worked all day, and she needed to spend time with others. Matt was a church member and was in consideration to sit on the advisory board, so it wouldn't hurt.
Matt was looking for a big legged woman to soothe his desires. Those were the lyrics to the blues tune he sang anyway. Kathleen was big and big legged. Kathleen told Rodney one night that she wanted a divorce. She was going to move in with Matt. She fell in love with the blues player. He was exciting in a way Rodney wasn't. Sorry, she said.
I didn't really have strong feelings for her. We just got married because I felt guilty. I figured that was the reason most got married, you had desires but the Book denied you those unless you were married. It was a sin out of marriage.
He fell asleep feeling those desires work on him. He didn't dream of Kathleen, but of a native girl with long black hair. He could see her, walking in the desert, moccasins on her feet, and feathers strung around her neck. She wore nothing else. Coyotes walked behind her and a desert elf owl winged silently back and forth in front of the procession. She arrived at the pickup and climbed under the blanket with him.
He woke in the dark, excited, relieved, alone. The camper door was shut and the night was silent. He drifted back to sleep and in his dream he was in the desert. It was light out, she walked ahead of him, her body was lean and taught, the necklace of feathers blew over her shoulders. He followed her, admiring her form, the way she placed her feet in the sand, silently, like the flap of owl wings. She turned at once and faced him, it was at that time he realized that they were both naked. He walked beside her and placed his arm around her shoulders. She was smooth but her muscles were firm. She was warm. She faced him and pointed to the side, towards the ground. A man lay on the ground where she pointed. The man's eyes were closed and sealed with gold nuggets. Bags of gold spilled from the dead man's pockets.
The native girl pointed to a large juniper, then at the wash they stood in. Rodney's eyes followed her fingers and he took in the Juniper and the wash. She then pointed to the sun. She took his hand, turned and walked back the way they came. Her hand felt powerful in his as she pulled him forward, up the wash. It didn't feel as if he had walked at all when he looked up and saw his pickup under the paloverde tree. He opened the tailgate and climbed into the truck and lay down on the blanket. She shut the tailgate from outside and turned the latch as he watched through the glass of the camper window. She climbed onto a white horse. Her dark skin contrasted against the brilliant white of the horse's coat and her smile showed bright as she pulled back on the reigns and galloped away. Daylight returned to dark and Rodney fell back to sleep.
Dawn inched into the desert as a light gray haze in Rodney's eyes. He dressed and set off to check traps. Another day and the traps were empty. He didn't reset the traps, but carried them back to the truck and tucked them on top of his bedroll. He packed his truck with all the gear that made up his campsite. He put the key in the ignition and the truck coughed to life. The truck clicked into gear and he drove down the wash. He noticed his fuel gauge and made a quick guess as to how far he could go. The truck bounced into ruts and over stones. A coyote stopped and stared down on the truck from the edge of the wash before it trotted away.
Dawn turned into afternoon with heat waves rising in the distance. The temperature gauge inside the truck showed the engine was keeping cool, even though inside the cab with the windows rolled down it felt like an oven. Rodney maneuvered between five and twenty miles an hour as he dodged boulders and ruts. After an hour he began to worry about his fuel, but at the same time he saw it; the Juniper tree the naked lady of the desert showed him from the night before.
That's it. The same tree, the same shape with the same branches.
Rodney pulled the truck as close to the tree as he could. The tree sat at a higher elevation than the wash and he didn't think it wise to try and drive up the hill. He turned the truck off and removed the key as a safety against using up battery power needed to start the truck and drive out of the desert. He climbed out of the hot cab and into dry heat. A breeze blew over him, dry and hot, like the blower of a furnace. He walked to the tree, recalling his dream from last night and he remembered the native woman's buttocks, tight and firm leading him. He glanced to the ground and just as in his dream, something human was on the ground. It did not resemble a dead man, but the shape of a vest was evident. Rodney reached inside the vest pocket and felt something smooth and cool. He removed the object to find a large gold nugget.
This is it. This was my Vision Quest. The female spirit of the desert led me to my salvation.
The vest lay by itself, partially buried. Rodney pulled on the vest and it freed itself from the clutches of sand. He saw the fabric had been torn in several places and there were dark stains. Each pocket he looked into had more gold nuggets. He smiled as he estimated that he had perhaps a two pounds of gold just in this vest alone. Who knows what spilled out of the pockets and remained encased in the sand, waiting for him to unearth it.
He marked the location of the vest with rocks, then searched the area further. He found a skull, human, five yards away and rib bones and vertebrate scattered under the Juniper. The bones looked to have been broken and chipped away by coyotes. He found a few more nuggets exposed on the surface near the bones.
The afternoon sun was intense and he sought refuge under the Juniper. He drank water from his canteen and didn't care if he spilled a little down his chin. He was going to leave the desert soon with enough money that he could get a fresh start. He took refuge inside the camper shell, remaining calm to conserve his energy and water. Rodney was excited and couldn't rest as he thought about the gold in his pocket and what was left to discover. Visions of he and the native girl lying naked on a white leather couch, air conditioning blowing against their skin forming goose bumps as they gently kissed, stirred in his vision when he closed his eyes.
Is this still part of the Vision Quest? I want to share my life with the Indian girl of the desert. I want us to be happy.
The sun inched lower on the horizon when he climbed out and searched more of the area. He found leather bags filled with gold. He stacked the gold near his truck so in the morning he could load it up and leave the desert, a rich man. He ate two cans of stew that night and drank his fill of water. He craved a piece of cactus for dessert and he wanted to sail in the spirit world again from a swallow of sacred peyote, but he failed to gather any in his haste to find gold today.
He lay under his blanket in the back of the pickup and listened to coyotes howling in the distance. He worked hard carrying gold to the truck during the day and his arms ached. Sleep took Rodney rapidly and he woke fully rested slightly before dawn. It took him hours to load the pickup with the bags of gold. The truck's springs groaned under the weight and it dropped lower to the ground. Rodney decided not to take all the gold because it put the truck under too much pressure. He unloaded some of the bounty and carried it up the hill and placed it under the Juniper tree. He would come back after he cashed in the first load and retrieve the remaining gold.
The truck buckled and bounced back down the wash. It was mid-afternoon, and the sun beat down on the roof as the truck labored under the new load placed in it. The engine temperature still remained in the normal range even if it felt as though it was hotter today than it had been since arrived in the desert. The labor he extended moving found gold to different locations stained his clothing with sweat.
I really want a shower, a nice cool shower, tonight or maybe tomorrow.
The sun was a burnt orange orb as it submerged behind the horizon. Rodney saw the paloverde tree ahead and parked in the same spot he had when his Vision Quest took place. He gathered wood for a fire and cut cactus for desert. He opened his water supply and drank long to quench and replace the moisture he released in perspiration. He chewed the bitter peyote cactus and swallowed the juice before he ate soup warmed in the campfire. He finished his meal with prickly pear flesh. He removed the stained and odorous clothing and climbed gently under the blanket in the back of his truck.
Show me the way again spirit of the desert.
All was dark and still when he saw his sister's face peering at him. She looked sixteen even though she was three years older than he. His sister waved at him before she disappeared.
He felt the wind first, cool on his neck and blowing his hair. The ocean stretched infinitely in front of him and the huge sails of the cutter billowed outward. The sound of rope stretching and the wooden deck creaking filled his ears as the ship swayed in the waves. Then at once the cannons fired and he went momentarily deaf from the concussion. The cannons fired again and he saw the bright powder flash bursting from the barrel. The ship shuttered as it took it's own beating from cannon balls hitting its side.
Rodney opened his eyes and saw lightning. The native girl was outside his truck window, knocking on the glass. The little truck swayed back and forth and he heard thunder rolling across the desert. Rain shot down on the top of the camper and the musty smell of droplets to dust filled the air. He looked in her eyes, then opened the back of the camper and let her in. She was wet from rain but she felt good laying next to him, moist and slippery. They kissed. She tickled him with her necklace of feathers. They made love.
She held both his hands in hers, then gently pulled on his arms. He felt himself slip out of his skin, and in a moment, they floated upward, through the roof of the camper. Rain poured around them but he didn't feel the drops. Thunder shook the air and lightning outlined every pebble, rock, tree and cactus. The back lit image of the desert etched onto his retinas. Looking down at the little camper, he saw the water overtake the roof and it was at that time, the finality his desert journey hit him. The truck was being destroyed by a flash flood, but that was okay, he left this world to live with the native girl in the next, and he wouldn't be returning. No more guilt, no more worry, and gold wasn't necessary.
