Tuesday

It was a Tuesday when I first saw her. I was on a jog and as I passed her on the sidewalk, just as I had passed many others that day and for many years before, she turned to me and smiled. I could only see part of her face, the rest covered by her hood and her hair hanging down, but her smile hit me as nothing before ever had. It was only a second before I was past her, but that vision stayed with me for the rest of the week. Every time I closed my eyes I saw that beautiful way her smile reflected in her eyes. Even now, five years later, I have never seen another smile quite like it. I ran along that road for years hoping to see her again. Hoping that, if I did, I would have the courage to stop to talk to her, if only so I could tell her how beautiful her smile was. I never did have that chance though.

I don’t know why I’m thinking about her now. They say our minds will do anything to combat boredom, and that’s exactly what I am, bored. It’s hard to believe that anyone could be bored when they’re dying, but there’s really nothing else to do in the middle of the desert.

I’ve never really experienced death before, nevermind my own. My grandparents died before I was born and both of my parents are the only child and still alive. Having never gone through the process, I always expected my death to be like I saw on TV; lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by family and friends. Maybe an old lover or best friend there also, making amends for a years long squabble over something insignificant as I slowly and peacefully drifted away. Reality never happens how you thought it would though.

Instead of being surrounded by loved ones, I am surrounded by sand. As far as my eyes can see; sand. I came out to the desert to get a picture of a bobcat, I’ve always thought them to be majestic creatures, and while trying to climb a rock to get a better view, I slipped and fell on my back. Unfortunately, while trying to steady myself during the fall my right foot got caught in a crevice and ended up twisting nearly ninety degrees, almost certainly breaking my ankle. I tried walking, but putting even the slightest amount of pressure on that ankle made it feel like there was a grenade exploding from within. Even the small vibration caused by hopping on my left leg was too much for me to handle for more than a few jumps. I was able to crawl slowly, a few inches at a time, but I decided to stay in the shade of the boulder where I could safely cry out for help until the cold air of night was upon me.

Under the light of a full moon that first night, I crawled a few hundred feet to another shady area where I spent the next day calling out for help some more. By the time night fell again I began realizing that I might not get out of here. I was not in a frequented area of the Mojave and I was still at least a couple of miles away from my car. It was then that I decided to leave everything behind except what was left of my water. Without all of my camera gear weighing me down, I was able to crawl twice as far that night and I began feeling hopeful again.

When I woke up during the heat of the day however, I saw that I crawled away from where my car was parked. Whenever I read books or watched movies about survival I always thought it was ridiculous how someone could just give up. I always said there is no way that I would give up if I were in the same situation, I would fight until the end. But seeing that long, uneven, trail that took me hours to make the night before going in the wrong direction, I gave up. There was no way that I would be able to make up all of that lost ground and still be able to make it back to my car. I rationalized in my head by saying that if anyone was looking for me it was better for me to stay in one place because I wouldn’t want to crawl overnight into an area that had already been searched. That was two days ago and I drank the last of my water overnight. So I sit here, leaning up against a rock, trying to pass the time until I die. I still have more time to think about my life so I close my eyes and wonder what I’ll see.

It was a Tuesday, and I could see her smiling.

- THE END -