born again in the virgin river

“i can’t believe you really did it”

“i know. but i did. i really did.” 

“do you miss them?”

“i do. this isn’t like my first divorce. i didn’t know what i was giving up then. i was too inexperienced to know anything. i never realized how useful ignorance can be. god damn, it’s hot here.”

Steve carried one Jason’s suitcases into his apartment. 

“but the drinks are cold. you’ll get used to it - it’s a dry heat, you see—so, even at, say, 110, sure you’re hot, but it’s not like those places with humidity.” 

“sure, a dry heat, knowing that makes me feel, yeah, not a damn thing.”

“so you’re really free now. finally. after all these years, you’re finally living the life you were meant to live. let me get you a beer.” Steve walked into the kitchen. 

“yep, free as a bird.”

Steve came back with two bottles of beer in-hand. “ah, you’re going to love it. being single again is amazing.”

“i know. it just feels...selfish,”

“it’s not selfish, it’s self-full. when Jason does Jason for Jason, the whole Universe benefits.”

“you’ve said that before.”

“cuz it’s true, man. look at me - i do whatever the fuck i want. i mean, yeah, there’s work, and alimony and child support and shit, but fuck, if i wanna smoke a j, i smoke a j, man. you know? if i wanna go to a bar and get shitfaced and fuck some chick i’ve never met and never want to meet again, i can do it. i don’t have to answer to nobody.”

“yeah, that’s true, you’ve really been living the life.”

“fuck yeah, man. besides, isn’t it better for your kids to see you live your fuckin’ dreams than to model being stuck in a loveless marriage where neither of you agree on anything and all there is is fighting? you don’t want that for your kids, man?”

“yeah, man, for sure i do.”

“dude, i’m so happy you did it. it takes some balls, man. i mean, i’ve missed you, man. we can finally live, you know? we can finally do the stuff we’ve been dreaming of doing.”

“absolutely”

“you’re really free, you know? we can do whatever we want. whenever we want. from this point on, you’re born anew. it’s going to be epic.”

the wind blew. it felt like a blow dryer. 

“so what do you wanna do?”

“well, man, i’ve planned a perfect night for us. we’re gonna drive down to Mesquite - the Casablanca has an all-you-can-eat crab buffet on Fridays. it’s epic, dude. hell, we could even get a room and just get shitfaced, you know? whatever you want, man, the world is our oyster—or in this case, our crab buffet.” 

“sounds great, man.”

I-15 is crowded on a friday afternoon. the sun is high and it pushes its way through the untinted windows of Steve’s minivan. 

“sorry about the A/C, dude, i’ve gotta have it charged.”

“eh, it’s ok, i’m already getting accustomed to the heat. what’s with all the traffic?”

“construction. they’ve got this thing going down to one lane - it’s hell on the weekends - everybody going to Vegas or coming back and the whole canyon fills up because of one 1/2 mile strip.”

“ah, i see.”

“but don’t let that bother you, we’re gonna have such a great time! this is your time to live!
i’m going to teach you how to live, man, really live. you need to stop worrying about others and start worrying about the one person whose life you really can change: yours. Jason’s You need to worry about Jason, man.”

“ok, i know, but do you ever think about those to whom difficulty and and responsibility is thrust?”

“what do you mean, man, we all have choices - we all get to choose whether or not we’re going to act or be acted upon.”

“but what about responsibility?”

“responsibility is another word for slavery, man. if you’re responsible for someone, you’re trapped. look, you’re not responsible for anybody’s emotions or their happiness, and sure, while your kids are young, you’ve gotta pay for their livelihood and protection and that shit, but that’s what child support is for man. you gotta stop worrying about everything — you’re a good dad! listen, i heard somebody say the best way to help the world is to get rich yourself, right? get rich and inspire people of what can be done? right? and it makes sense, right? 

well, i say the best thing you can do for your kids is to live a fucking-amazing life—like the life we’re living right now—live life to its fullest and don’t let anybody tell you what you have to do and, shit, one sec, sorry, i’ve gotta take this.”

the road bends, and the virgin river—what’s left of it—can almost be seen if Jason looks to his left. 

Jason checks his phone - no service - i wonder how Steve has service he must have Verizon. 

and so they went down the canyon to the Casablanca Hotel and Casino in Mesquite, Nevada. 

below him he sees the virgin river. or what used to be the virgin river. if he squints, he can see a brown ribbon of what must be water surrounded by various shades of brown and yellow and the occasional green Joshua tree. 

“50 shades of brown over here”

Steve finished his call and turned to Jason, “what’s that?”

“nothing. how much longer?”

the canyon ended and it opened to more desert. sagebrush, dried grasses, sandy hills and a trailer park in the distance. 

“just around the corner, man. i’m telling you, you’re gonna love living down here. it’s really not as bad as people say. traffic’s bad, and the old people—dude, the old people gotta go: as soon as one kicks the bucket, another three move in. but you’ve got decent shopping, you know, and the restaurants aren’t bad - shit dude, as crazy as it seems, Chili's can be seriously amazing on some nights. 

they pulled into the Casablanca. the fountain in the front was recirculating water as blue as raspberry jello. 

at the buffet, there were piles of crab legs. skinny pieces of pink rubber. 

Steve piled them on his plate and sat down heavily, pulling out a pair of crab crackers and a crab fork from his shirt pocket. 

“dude, if you live out here, you gotta invest in some crab crackers - the ones they have here suck, and you got to get one of these shrimp forks you can get through way more crab this way. they don’t offer them for a reason, but nobody here seems to care that i bring my own.”

Jason looked at the discarded shells piling up on what had been an empty plate as Steve made sure he got his money’s worth. 

“we’ve gotta get a beer,” Steve said, “where’s the waitress? the service here is terrible, but, i mean, can you believe this place? have you ever seen so much crab in your life, man? seriously…this is just the beginning, man. oh, there she is.”

he motioned to the waitress and said, “dos cervesas, por favor,” and spent a full second staring at her, narrowing his gaze. then he turned to Jason said, “i like to talk to them in their own language. they take care of you that way, you know? they feel seen. she’s not that bad, really, once you get her in the dark, she’d be ok, dude, you should invite her for a drink once she gets off.”

“dude. what the hell?”

Steve stuffs another morsel of crabmeat into his mouth. 

“what?”

“just, …just chew your food before you talk, alright.”

Steve looks at him, mouth full, raises his shoulders and just sort of rolls his eyes. 

they eat in silence - Steve makes his way through the crab on his plate. 

“the drinks are so fucking slow in this place - they want to get you real thirsty, see? they don’t make any money on crab, so they have to get you thirsty so you’ll spend all your money on drinks.”

Jason nods politely. He checks his phone. 

“the service here is pretty bad.”

“yeah, man, you got t-mobile? you gotta get AT&T down here. or Verizon maybe, i don’t know, i’ve had AT&T forever, you know. hell, Julie’s still on my plan - i just take it out of alimony.”

“dude, i’m…i’m gonna take a walk outside.”

“you ok man?”

“yeah, i just think the crab isn’t settling so good.”

“you’ve just gotta power-through, you haven’t eaten enough. you really need a beer, let me get the waitress.”

“nah, i’m good. i just need to walk for a bit.”

“all good.”

“i’ll close my check at the counter, you can have my beer if it ever gets here.”

“you sure? just come back and get it.”

“nah, man, i’m good, just need some of that dry desert air.”

“alright, dude, but come back once you feel better - i’ll just be hitting the blackjack tables, unless some honey seduces me.”

“i’ll plan on the latter.”

“just knock before you come in the room.” Steve says with a chuckle. 

Jason gives a half smile and a nod as he leaves the booth. 

outside, it’s warm. the lights of the hotel spray a yellow and orange hue on the black pavement. 

a warm breeze carries the scent of cigarettes. 

and the hum of the freeway provides a steady cover for the Muzak pushed through the entryway speakers. 

Jason looks at his phone again, the heat still suffocating him as he aimlessly walks through the parking lot. 

‘hotels near me’ - he types in Google Maps. 

_The Virgin River - 1 mile away. 

the roads were dusty and the blocks were long and only two of them had sidewalks. 

twice he pulled out his phone and turned on the light so that an oncoming car would see him. 

“welcome to the Virgin River, how can I help you?”

“do you have a room?”

“have you stayed with us before?”

“it’s my Virgin Voyage.”

she squinted his eyes at him. 

“i have one room - two queens; two fifty nine plus resort fee. would you like that one?”

he looked down, and then to the left. 

he pulled out his wallet and grabbed a credit card slotted behind two others, and handed it to her. 

“thank you, can i have your driver’s license?”

he handed it to her. 

“ok Mr Miller, i’ve put the room charge on and a $100 fee for incidentals that will come off at the end of your stay if you don’t accrue any charges. how many keys would you like?”

“just one, thank you.”

“here you go, have a wonderful time, sir.”

“thanks, i’ll...have a good night."

and the music played, and the cigarette smoke could barely be detected over the heavy, sweet scent of air freshener. he pressed the button for the elevators; one door opened and a handful of people exited. he entered, by himself, pressed the button, and ascended to the 2nd floor.