Stopping in a Nevada Desert

          

           When I awoke, we had stopped somewhere in the Nevada desert. Looking out the frosted window of the Kia Soul, all I saw in the sky was the farewell purple from the Sun as it was being replaced by a blood red moon, and wisps of clouds so thin, they could have been breaths from the coyotes I had heard come to roam the hard sand in the nighttime. The seat beside me was empty, and so I figured Theo had stepped out to rest his legs; he had been driving for a considerable amount of time now. Stepping out of the car, I stretched fully, and the quick bite of the crisp air made sure any memory of sleep would stay just that. Looking out, I saw him pacing about a large boulder, white hat stuck to his head as always. He seemed agitated as he tried to get it to hold tight in the disturbing wind. As I approached him, he tossed it away. 

            “What in the hell are we doing here, Theo?” 

            He took his sunglasses off for a moment to wipe his eyes. They were rimmed red, and their usual blue was warped behind a film of tears.

            “This is where Kanye died, Cash,” he said.

            Jesus. If what Theo was saying was right, he had taken a detour that was to cost us two hours in the long run. It came to my mind to tell him what a foolish decision he had made, but if he was right, then this was sacred ground. In a recent documentary, Kanye had revealed how at this very spot on which Theo and I stood, he had decided to come to God, and leave his past, sinful self behind. I knelt down, and the cold of the sand moved through my jeans. As we both closed our eyes to take a moment of silence, the sand shifted around us, and I wondered if it was the same sand that had seen Kanye step out of his Benz on a cold night like this, kneel in the sand like we were, and make a decision to be a mediocre artist for the rest of his life and leave his greatness behind. 

            I heard Theo begin sobbing, and so I sat beside him and placed my hand on his shoulder. 

            

            “I missed the Saint Pablo tour, Cash. I should have been there.”

            “I know, bud. I wish I could have been there too.”

            As the sun set fully, it took both light and sound with it, and the two of us sat together on a silent blackness. After some time, Theo stood up.

            “We need to get going. If I stay here longer, I won’t be able to leave.”

            I understood what he meant.

            “The car is almost out of gas, but I remember passing a station a few miles back. If you want to wait here, I could go fill her up and be back in a half hour.”

            “I’ll be fine.”

            As he walked to the car, he drew his phone. When he got inside, I saw him type something, and Wolves started playing. The opening choir spilled out into the desert, and I could have sworn I felt the wind and the stars move in rhythm. As the Kia moved away, the music stayed hidden within the sand, and I watched as the white car ran down the road towards the red moon, looking like a snowball headed straight for hell.