Mirage

It felt like being in a crowded parking lot, when someone way up ahead is waiting for that choice spot. No one can move in or out. Or forward.

Only we were in the desert, not in a parking lot. There were no cars around. Not even a road. Scrub, dust and old rock filled our view all the way to the pass leading to Mirage, our destination.

Oh yeah, it was stifling hot.

The three of us walked steadily, but we made no discernible progress.

Avery and Joe were my companions. We had water, extra shoes, sun block and our purpose - the package we needed to deliver.

Joe makes a great companion. But he reminded me of walking on the beach with a five year old, who keeps a good pace unless they see a shell or shiny object revealed by the receding surf. Keeping him on task was a task in itself.

And he talked non-stop about returning to his favorite city, Summit. He pointed to it in the distance but I couldn’t see it. At our altitude, it should have been obvious. Joe described its alabaster walls rising into golden sunlight and shady trees laden with delicious fruit. He indicated a bright spot at the base of the mountain to the right of our pass. It looked less a city than a yellowish stain on the surrounding rock.

I told him we would visit if we had time.

Avery spoke without pause about his brilliant sapphire city. A city only he could see. He pointed to it, but we saw only sun baked rock and not a sapphire in sight. His description made us yearn for this oasis filled with soaring towers and vast rolling parks.

On the far side of the pass lay Mirage, obscured by clouds. Isn’t a mirage something seen which isn’t there? Why name something which you can’t see, Mirage? I kept that thought to myself.

We walked all day in the relentless sun. Near sunset, we set camp in a dry gulch. We still had plenty of water but dug down to see if we could find more. We found very dry dust.

“Are you sure we should be here? What about flash floods?”

“It’s summer Joe. It doesn’t rain in the desert, come summer.”

“But what about all those lightning flashes in the mountains over there?”

“Heat lightning. No rain.”

Then Avery asked, “What about snakes?”

“Sit up and watch for them. Or climb something high, so they won’t sneak up on you.”

“Like those rocks?”

“Sure.”

Joe said, “Don’t listen to him, Avery. They live in the rocks.”

Neither Avery nor Joe seemed happy with my answer. There weren’t many alternatives. I didn’t bring up scorpions.

We set up the tent and sat around the campfire until late. Avery pointed into the darkness. We could see the glowing eyes of coyotes watching us.

“How do you know they’re coyotes?”

“Wait a bit, Joe. They’ll be yipping at the moon.”

“Those glowing eyes creep me out. Sure they’re not spirits?”

“It’s from the fire.”

“But the fire flickers. Their eyes just glow, steady.”

A shot rang out. I threw something at Avery. “Damn it, Avery! Stow it. You want to kill someone?”

Avery holstered his pistol. “I didn’t even scare them. Think they’re spirits.”

“Do that again and you’ll join them.”

“They’re spirits…”

“No reason to shoot at them then. Guns can’t kill spirits, and coyotes aren’t worth spending bullets on.”

Next morning, Joe’s city hardly took us out of our way. Only Summit no longer existed. Barely ruins. No stone atop another. Yet there remained a certain beauty like the shattered bits of a Christmas ornament.

Dust and scrub hid shards of what might have been, like bone fragments strewn about. Foundation outlines emerged in places. The city was long since gone. Sun and distance had played a trick on our hopeful eyes.

We continued onward with only Joe looking back in bewilderment.

Avery kept pestering us about visiting Sapphire. At best, it would be out of our way and delay us. I couldn’t see it. I wanted to get to Mirage.

Avery said he saw it, but it receded as we approached. Then even Avery admitted it was gone. We never did find it. We could discover no sign of it on high ground nor in the glens. Avery’s brilliant city existed only in words.

Finally Joe, who was sympathetic to the search, called it quits.

“This is pointless. Let’s go.”

Avery resisted. “But it was here. I saw it.”

“It’s not here now.”

“Let’s camp here. We’ll make it to Mirage in the morning.”

We set camp but the wind picked up and sent sparks flying.

“The last thing we need is a wild fire.” We doused the fire and ate our dinner cold, in the dark. No glowing eyes watched from the distance.

I dreamed a great black cat nuzzled me like its own. It could have swallowed me whole. I was completely at its mercy. But it licked me like a cub. Vulnerable terror dissolved into peaceful surrender.

The coyotes woke me. They sounded like crying babies. I lay in the great silent darkness, awake yet still comforted. We were in the benign wilderness.

On the third day we arrived in Mirage. We left at dawn and descended through the pass into the fog. We never saw the sun.

Mirage could have been named almost anything. ‘Dismal’ came to mind as we surveyed the tiny harbor in the muted light. Decrepit boats rose and fell as small swells sleep walked to the shore. Despite the activity, it all felt stagnant.

Expecting a mansion, we found a modest house on a quiet street. The door opened at our knock and we were shown into the owner’s living room. It felt good to sit.

We never knew our host’s name. He entered with his assistant and nodded to us when we stood. He sat behind what looked like a vintage kitchen table.

I produced the package. The assistant took it and opened it with a small knife. He removed the wrapping paper and left the decorated wooden box on the table where our host admired it.

He pulled it open, smiled and sighed.

“I love these,” he said as he tipped the box and poured hundreds of gold coins across the table.

Wide eyed, Joe and Avery exchanged glances with me. Our host picked up three coins and offered one to each of us. Then he picked up a coin and deftly pulled the foil covering away to reveal a chocolate interior.

We were silent as our host gleefully ate his ‘coin’.

He gestured at us. “Eat! Eat! Don’t you like them?”

We dutifully unwrapped and ate our chocolates.

The assistant brought tea. We drank greedily. We couldn’t thank him enough.

Our host stood, prompted by a signal from his assistant. He thanked us profusely and left the room. That was it.

“I’ll show you the door.” We followed the assistant to the front door where he produced a cloth flour sack. “This is for you. Thank you for your troubles.”

Once outside, Joe and Avery pressed me to look into the sack.

“That’s it? What’s our payment? Kumquats?”

“Just so it’s not chocolate coins…”

I pulled out a gold coin, bit it and announced we were not fools. Joe and Avery cheered and slapped each other’s backs in congratulations.

Darkness joined the gloom as we walked back into town. We found a hotel in which we could eat and count our reward. The ordeal of our journey receded with rest and sustenance.

I slept long and deep.

Mirage held little of interest for us. We checked out of our rooms and replenished our supplies at a local hardware.

Joe and Avery were free to go their way. But we decided unanimously on our next course of action. We returned the way we came.

Once back to Summit, we set camp. In the morning, Joe and Avery began selecting the best stones. I scouted the hills for trees we could cut for lumber.

We began to build.