The American West is a fantasy. The land of cowboys and Indians. The land so sought after, so shot up, that it bleeds in the hearts of all who travel through it. It has a way of making you confront what you’ve been avoiding because when it’s just you and your thoughts, there’s no place to hide under the desert sun. The only choice you have is to endure.

The car rolls down the road, and Omar takes a deep breath before glancing over at Jasper, who is scrunched up, turned over in his chair, trusting his son to take the wheel. On his lap sits a mini Bible, and the medical tags still lie on his arm. Omar shivers as the memory of the escape creeps in.

“…It could be days.”

Omar exhales long and slow and places his hand on Jasper, softly squeezing his hand, if only for a moment. He hadn’t said much since he left Maura, but Omar could tell his father was heartbroken. When he was awake, his eyes drifted off somewhere past the clouds.  Omar frowns, taps the wheel, and stares straight. The only sound he hears is the hum of the road, mixing with the silence of the unknown.

In the quiet of the car, Omar could feel the change starting to grow. The realization that this was it, this was his time to drive, this was his time to take control. He gulps. There was no more time to hide. No more backup plans. No more distractions. Life was going to tick on, but that also meant accepting that life was going to tick out. Omar looks over at his father and can see the veins sticking through his skin. He looks smaller now. Noticeably smaller. The only thing that didn’t look old were his eyes. But even then, his flashes of youthful energy only lasted for the quickest of moments.

Omar shifts side to side and squints at the horizon. As far as he can see, he is the only car on the road, his only company being a single dotted yellow line. He licks his lips and  reaches for his father’s Coke, but it’s empty, and when he turns to see if he had more in his suitcase, the sight alone causes his hand to retreat. Omar sucks in air and looks at his father, feeling like me wants to scream. He didn’t care about Monica anymore. He didn’t even care about his job. It was just this moment, trapped in a car with his dying father, that drowned every other worry out. The silence is deafening so he reaches for the radio, but it’s also static.

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath.

The car continues to roll forward. The ride was so silent now, it was the kind of quiet where your mind panics because it’s not used to living without distraction. Because reality is scary, so we distract ourselves to hide from it all. But with each passing mile and each passing minute, Omar’s mind begins to wander.

He thinks about the hospital. Days, weeks, months, the doctor said. Maybe less. Maybe Jasper dies tomorrow. Maybe he dies tonight. Maybe he dies right now, in this passenger seat, and Omar won’t even notice until he tries to wake him.

The thought alone makes his hands tighten on the steering wheel. He shakes his head and tries to will a new memory.

He thinks about growing up and how his father would bring him home little snacks from vending machines and how this small gesture could and would later become so large. He thinks about how his father would be hard on him, daring him to do right. And how just maybe his father being hard wasn’t negative at all but a positive act of love. He thinks about all the time they lost, all the years they could have had, and back to how he’s about to lose him forever.

Omar’s chest tightens. His breath quickens, and the panic starts to rise like nausea. He’s going to die. His father is going to die. He can’t fuckin’ believe it, his father is going to die. Omar’s eyes water. He takes a quick look at his father and the Bible in his hands. A small sad smile appears on his face. Even though he wasn’t religious, he’s glad his father was finding God. It was a good thing he thinks. But the more he thinks, the more his eyes start to burn and the more his throat tightens. He slaps his face.

“Focus… Focus.”

Omar grabs the radio once more and twists the nozzle. Nothing. So he sits back in his seat, runs a hand through his hair, and stares out at the horizon, his mind pulling him to the unknown.

What did he think about religion? What was God to him? He looks at his rearview mirror. He’d been so busy being distracted, he hadn’t taken the moment to sit in the silence. And as he takes one more look at Jasper, he wishes more than anything that he knew God. He didn’t want to admit it, but he needed him more than ever.

“Just give me a sign,” Omar says under his breath. “I… I just want to know.”

And that’s when faith whispers.

Omar hears a faint whisper—like a reeling nod and suggestion coming from somewhere inside the car. His head cranes to the radio and turns the volume up thinking he finally had signal, but is met with sharp static. Omar’s ears clench and he quickly turns the volume down, but the whisper comes in louder this time.

Omar’s eyes widen, and he looks out the window to see if the heat is playing a trick on his mind. Nothing. He then quickly glances towards Jasper, who is still asleep, and shakes his head. Omar focuses his vision. In the distance, he could see the mirage of the road with the heat rising and thought maybe that was it—it had been a long day, his nerves were completely shot, maybe, and just maybe, the voice was his way of coping.

But the whisper only grew and spoke more powerfully, intentionally—until it was impossible to ignore. Omar’s heart starts beating out of his chest. Reflexively, he reaches over and taps Jasper’s leg.

“Hey… you… you hear that?”

Jasper just groans and covers his face with his arms.

Omar exhales long and slow, as his mind races to if he’s having a stroke. But the whisper continues, repeating one word: “Trust.”

“Trust me, Omar, everything will work out,” the voice whispers, soft as the wind.

Omar shakes his head as if it were a bug he was trying to knock out of his ear. The sound echoes louder.

“Trust me, Omar.”

Omar shakes his head again, this time more violently, cracking it like a whip.

“Trust me, Omar.”

Omar grinds his teeth and exhales.

“Who are you?” Omar pleads to the unknown.

“You already know who I am,” the voice replies.

Omar shivers. Something about that answer felt true, even if he couldn’t explain it. He looks from the rearview, then to the sideview mirror and prays he will see something. But he only sees his faint translucent reflection. He swallows hard as his eyes find the Bible.

“But I don’t know if I believe in you,” Omar says to the empty air.

The whisper laughs, earnest and wholesome. “Then why are you talking to me?”

Omar has no answer for that.

“Look around you,” the voice continues. “Open your eyes.”

Omar’s face puzzles as he stares out the window, desperate to spot the source. Just then, a great bird flies across the road and disappears behind a cloud. Omar shakes. Was that a sign? Or just a bird? He didn’t know anymore.

The voice speaks again, quieter now, almost gentle.

“Look at the cactus here in the desert, where there is no rain. It trusts that eventually, water will come.”

The muscles in Omar’s cheek strain. The voice continues.

“And if you look a little closer, you’ll see a lizard.”

Omar notices a green tail wiggling on the side of the road, making his flesh turn to goose.

“There’s supposedly no food out here, yet even the lizards eat. Life finds a way, Omar. Even when it seems impossible.”

Omar can’t tell if he’s laughing or crying.

“And the flowers. Even out here they’re clothed.” Omar’s eyes find the Bible, and his right hand finds his heart. He squeezes his eyes shut then opens them.

“But I’m so scared to trust,” Omar pleads, as snot mixes with tears. “My father is dying. I… I know it. Nothing has ever worked out for me, and I don’t know how to… I don’t know how to let him go.” Omar pauses, his eyes wild, looking for the source of the sound. “I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

A sudden wind blows dust across the highway, covering the car. Omar tenses up and squints his eyes.

“Trusting when you’re scared is how you build trust,” the voice promises. Suddenly the dust clears. Omar wipes the sweat from his forehead and sighs. The voice continues. “And letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means loving someone enough to release them.”

Omar starts panting.

“I… I can’t even see you.”

“Do you need to see something to know it’s real? You can’t see love. You can’t see grief. You can’t even see the wind. But you know they’re all here.”

A shiver crawls up Omar’s spine, and he takes a long, slow, deep breath, filling his body with the ancient desert air.

“Then what do I do?” Omar whispers. “What should I do?”

“You trust. It’s the only thing you can control when everything else is falling apart.”

Omar shakes his head once more, and it must have worked because suddenly, the voice left his head. All that was left was clarity mixed with uncertainty as Omar followed the road to the horizon. A tear runs from his eye, and every decision, every regret, every hope, and every dream flashes in and out of his mind.

At this moment, Omar didn’t know where he was going but knew he was here. Perhaps this was meant to be.

The world returns to a hum as the car rumbles forward, with the pavement whizzing underneath, and this is all fine to Omar. The silence is fine. For the first time in many years, he begins to relish the silence, and not rush to control the thoughts that enter his mind. After several hours, the sun dips and shakes hands with the horizon, casting a warm, fiery glow over the landscape, jutting out from behind the gorge.

The American West spread before him like a painting, all setting light and endless sky. It was as if the world outside the car had conspired to show him just how much beauty life had to offer, even when faced with the inevitable reality of death. Because life is beautiful, even when you know you’re going to die.
Seeing the sunset, Omar could feel his heart swell. He reaches over and shakes Jasper’s shoulder.

Nothing.

“Dad?” Omar’s voice cracks. He shakes harder. “Dad?”

Still nothing. Jasper’s body moves with the shaking but his eyes stay closed, his face slack.

Omar’s heart stops. The panic from earlier floods back, drowning him. This is it. This is the moment. His father is—

“Dad!” Omar shakes him violently now, the car swerving slightly. “DAD!”

Jasper’s eyes suddenly flutter. A small groan escapes his lips.

Omar can barely breathe. “Dad, please… Please wake up.”

Jasper’s eyes open slowly, unfocused, confused. He looks around like he doesn’t recognize where he is. His mouth opens but no words come out at first. He then blinks several times, trying to orient himself.

“Where…” Jasper’s voice is groggy. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the car. With me. We’re… we’re driving.” Omar’s hands are shaking on the wheel.

Jasper stares out the window for a long moment, like he’s trying to remember how he got here. Finally, his eyes clear just a little. He rubs his face slowly.

And then, for the first time in hours, Jasper sits up and speaks.

“Pull over; let’s break for the night.”

Omar looks over with a smile and hopes his father can’t see the tear streaks down his face, or the terror still pounding in his chest.

 

In his head, Jasper feels the bitter fangs of mortality biting into his neck. His rough exterior was softening like a jar of Play-Doh, and he couldn’t fight the feeling but only accept it. For the first time, the realization that this was it finally set in. That he was mortal, and his sands of time were about to run out. He reaches back for his bag, grabs a pen and paper, and begins to write. Omar careens to a halt and finds a nice spot amid cacti where he watches a lizard sprint across the sand and disappear into a crack in the rock. He thinks about what the voice said. Or what he said to himself. But the message was the same: Trust.

“Let’s make a fire,” Jasper grunts.

“How?” Omar says, breathlessly.

Jasper sucks in air.

“We’ll find wood.”

“Out here?” Omar pans to the wilderness. Just rocks, sand, and cacti spread out as far as the eye can see. Jasper nods and places a hand on Omar’s shoulder.

“You just gotta trust.”

Omar could feel his skin instantly turn to goosebumps. There are no coincidences under this sun.

Omar leans forward on the steering wheel and strums his fingers. His insides are flaming hot as the emotions of the trip start to rise. He feels like a car driving head-first into a pole, and after he looks at Jasper and notices him struggling to catch his breath, the car hits.

“What… what happened? Are you gonna be ok?” Omar erupts, his eyes darting side to side. “The hospital… the news… you’re wanted.”

Jasper slowly exhales.

“In this moment, I’m ok and I need you to trust that.” It was far too solemn for Omar to process. He starts rubbing his temples.

“I just need some time to catch my breath,” Jasper adds.

Omar looks away from his father, then turns back to him, looking him square in the eye.

“I… I just don’t get it. We really don’t need to go any further; I’m fine. I’M FINE. I can figure something out. You should have stayed in the hospital! We should… we should go back. We need to figure out the law stuff.” Tears stream down Omar’s face, and he turns away and looks off toward the road. Jasper releases an easy smile.

“I don’t want to go back—I want you to live your dreams.”

Omar takes his tongue and moves it around his mouth.

“I… I don’t even know what my dreams are. This job? It’s stupid. I’m positive I won’t like it.”

Jasper throws his hands in his pockets.

“Then instead of running, why don’t you allow yourself to dream.”

Omar starts rubbing his fingers.

“I… my bills… I…”

Jasper shakes his head.

“Just know this, you’re already figuring it out… remember dreams play in the now, not in the future.”

Omar sighs and wipes his nose and Jasper nods his head.

“No matter what you do, I just want you to know that it makes me happy to be with you,” Jasper says with sad assurance.

Omar runs his hand through his hair and leans back. His insides are torn up, and he wants to cry, really cry. But he can’t let himself. So he unbuckles his seatbelt and runs a hand over his face.

“So let’s get some damn wood.”

The Watson men set off and did one of the oldest and noblest professions known to man. Searching for wood. And despite being in the middle-of-fucking-nowhere, with some effort, they were able to get a fire going—they found the wood scattered among the winds of the sand. Maybe the Universe provides. Or maybe they just got lucky. Omar wasn’t sure there was a difference anymore.

The night sky is now painted with a million stars, and it is so clear that Omar thought he could see Jupiter and the creation of the cosmos. His skin turns to gooseflesh once more as the temperature drops, so he scoots closer to the fire, joining his father, who is laying back on the sand, hands intertwined around the back of his head, admiring the stars. Omar notices Jasper is shivering, so he takes off his sweater and hands it to his father, who smiles when he accepts. It’s here that Jasper sits up, pulls a letter from underneath his shirt, and hands Omar the letter. In the light of a dying flame, Omar begins to read.

 

Dear Omar,

As our journey comes closer to an end, I, too, know that my journey is coming to an end. And that’s ok. We all live a thousand lives, and mine will float onto the next as it always has. Earlier today, when we were at the amusement park, I wanted you to pay attention to not half-assing things. But now I want you to pay attention to something more important: forgiveness.

Growing up, Maura was my best pal. We did everything together. Do you know how you always have the one person you look forward to seeing when you go to a party? That’s who she was to me. And we lost that.

Throughout life, we drifted apart. We missed the small moments that only stacked up to become big moments, and those moments turned into imaginary stories about how and why these things were happening. They became stories of their own, not based on fact but on imagination. Because the truth was, Maura would do anything for me, and I for her. I should have called. I should have forgiven her. But instead, I stayed stubborn. And we lost forty years because of it. But when the friendship is real, time doesn’t matter. You saw us, and we didn’t skip a beat. God, I’m so lucky to have her.

But I need to show you some forgiveness.

I’m sorry I got you into this mess.

I’m sorry I grabbed you and shoved you in that van back at the gas station. I’m sorry I forced you on this trip when you didn’t want to come. I’m sorry I made everything about my lessons instead of just asking you how you were doing. I got so focused on teaching you how to live that I forgot to just be with you.

And I hope you can forgive me.

Because despite all the noise, this has been the best few days of my life.

Omar, everything is all about relationships, so don’t take the most important ones for granted. Be quick to forgive, as it is what really heals you and allows you to move forward. And don’t forget yourself. Everyone makes mistakes, everyone. If you feel regret, it’s a good thing, it means you grew. You’re not perfect, so don’t ever try to be. Be just the best you can be.

Because to find your treasure, you must forgive.

Life is too short to walk around with extra baggage. And frankly, it’s too fuckin’ heavy.

But I say that to say I hope you forgive me.

I really do.

I love you,

Jasper

 

Omar holds the letter, with the fire bouncing off his face, and looks straight at his father. He seems a bit grayer, a bit more faded. A bit less Jasper. His Coke was uncracked. The hospital took its toll, and his sentimentality had only grown. Perhaps when you’re nearing the end, you don’t have time for bullshit… you get more than your fair share in life.

Omar looks down and crosses his feet. “I… I forgive you, Dad,” says Omar, his voice splintering. “There’s nothing to forgive, really. I wasn’t perfect either. I just… I just wish I had more time with you,” he adds.

Jasper smiles warmly and places his hand on Omar’s shoulder. “We all wish we had more time, son. But the truth is, we never really know how much time we have. That’s why it’s so important to make the most of the moments we do have together.” And then Jasper pauses and considers. “I wish I knew that when I was younger.”

The night continues above, indifferent to what is happening below it. It was worried about the stars and how to keep them shining and had no time to worry about the Watson men. After a minute or two, Omar nods, his eyes welling up with tears. “I’ve been feeling so lost lately, Dad. Like I don’t know what to do with my life. And now that you’re… you know, it’s just been really hard.”

Jasper’s eyes soften. “Life can be overwhelming, Omar. But I believe in you. You have so much potential, and I know you’ll find your way, and I think you know you will, too. Just be true to yourself, no matter how scary it may seem. The treasure’s not gonna be what you expect. But you’ll know it when you find it.”

Omar pulls out an extra bolt he took from his time with Maura and bounces it in his hand. The moonlight beams off the metal, making it feel something like destiny.

“Yeah, I think so too. It’s just… what I think I want to do is nothing I thought I would be doing,” Omar suggests.

Jasper stifles a laugh.

“That’s normal. How are you supposed to know what you really like when everyone else tells you what to like?” Jasper counters.

Omar manages a weak smile. “True.”

Jasper takes a stone and throws it into the fire.

“Life is full of unexpected surprises; that’s why we live in the present.” Jasper takes a labored breath, his hand pressing against his chest for just a moment before continuing. “We just gotta remember to open it.”

Omar throws a stick into the fire, sending sparks into the sky. He hopes it will cover up his heart swelling with its dangerous dance of gratitude and fear, splashing away his insides. But as the sparks shimmer into oblivion, he meets his father’s eyes. And it was at this moment that he truly saw Jasper as a person and not just a parental figure. Someone who, like him, was living a life and doing the best he could. It was a moment that only happens once, a moment you relive time and time again. The moment of acceptance.

As the fire crackles and the stars continue to shine, the two men sit in silence, staring into the fire. The flames cast a warm glow on their faces as they fall asleep, watching the embers fade until the last one turns black.

 

 

Please like, comment, share and tell me what you think! It’s a random rewrite of a chapter from my book.

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