A crash of thunder paraded across the sky, followed by a trickle of rain. One of the drops fell upon the face of Jack Leber, who had taken refuge from his exhaustion, by leaning his pack against a tree, and creating a seat to take a short nap. He wiped the sky’s tear from his face, and looked up at the fading blue horizon. Heaving a sigh, he stood up.

"Shit." He said to himself as the rain began to pick up. He hurriedly shuffled through the contents of his pack, searching for his rain poncho. By the time he withdrew the garment, his back was soaked with rain. Another crash of thunder sent a shiver through his quickly cooling body.

"I thought it didn’t rain in the desert?" he thought to himself. He figured that he had crossed into Arizona about 25 miles back, and seeing how it was early August, this was the last predicament he had expected to be confronted with in this barren land.

As he stretched out his legs and arms, his eyes began to scan the horizon. Memories began to come flooding back to him of the vacations his father used to take him on. Jack recalled the long hours on the road that they would travel from in their home in North Dakota. Jack’s father, David Leber, worked for Roadway Delivery and whenever Jack wanted to tag along to distant lands, "Dad" was always more than willing to have a traveling companion.

Jack always remembered the desert from those trips. A land so barren, but at the same time so rich. The post apocalyptic landscape seeming to encompass all aspects of life. The desolate seas of sand that seemed fit for no man, in contrast to the enormous amount of potential the land held ... it seemed as though an entirely separate evolution was occurring in the desert.

Leber shook the trance out of his head, and picked up his rucksack, heaving the large bag over his shoulder, and fastening the waist straps. He started towards the highway that lay stretched out before him just a few hundred yards away. As he approached the road, Jack examined it’s immaculate length. It seemed to wined into the heart of the desert like a snake ... the snake that had lead him from his home in Mooreton, North Dakota two months ago. He had left his mother, father, and two dogs, with a short note reading:

" Worry not about me, nor feel shame upon yourself. I have left in search of something. What it is, I don’t know. So I leave you with love and the hope that when I do find this something .... I am brave. Love, Jack."

He laughed to himself as he imagined the disarray that fell upon his parents, "they never understood him anyway", he thought.

Taking one last look to the east, he shuffled his feet, and turned toward the setting sun. It seemed to be a million miles away from the rain that was pouring on his face. Jack began to walk towards it, and with each rhythmic step, a melody would drop into his mind. It started off as a quiet murmur, then slowly growing into a beat, and eventually falling out of his mouth in words.

"In my medicine cabinet the winter fly has died of old age...dah dah..doo, sing to me the songs of your moon and bring to me the relics of the hearts you stole...couldn’t forget, didn’t know how...dah dah, doo doo.." and so on. Jack trailed on, letting his mouth say whatever it decided to, the result being combinations of memories, songs, and thoughts.

A small dot appeared on the dim horizon behind him. Jack squinted and whispered to himself "Blue Ford Mustang, 1989". This was an art that he had perfected from his two months on the road. Any car within less than a mile, he could tell make, model, and year (with the exception of the early 80’s foreign cars). As the car drew closer, Jack withdrew his hand from his front left-hand pocket, extended it towards the road and stretched his thumb out. The Blue Mustang sped past, spraying a small mist onto Jack’s jeans. With indifference, he put his hand back into his pocket. A few short yards ahead, the car’s brake lights came on, followed by the reverse lights. A mixed emotion of fear and excitement shot through him, just as it always did when he successfully stopped a car.

"Where ya headin’ boss?" A middle aged man hollered to Jack, by leaning over the passenger seat to speak through the open passenger window.

"Wherever I can go." Jack replied.

"Well, I can take you as far west as San Carlos, or as far south as Tucson."

"Sounds good", Jack said as he opened the passenger side door.

Jack plopped down into the car seat, and threw his rucksack into the backseat. The driver turned down the country music that was leaking from the dash, and began to speak.

"What’s your name son?" he questioned with a thick southern drawl.

"Jack, Jack Leber." he replied, extending his hand in a formal greeting.

"Joseph Pillman, nice to meet ya." the man said, as he forcefully gripped Jack’s hand.

"Would ya like a beer, John?" the man asked as he sipped his own.

"Ah, Jack" he said with a smile, "and sure".

Without acknowledging Jack’s reply, Joseph reached around his seat and plunged his hand into his cooler. He tossed a cold beer into Jack’s lap.

"Here ya go." Joseph said with a smile. "So, where ya headin’ there, Jack? You don’t seem like you’re from these here parts, and ya seem to clean to be a vagrant or convict. What’s the story?"

"Well, I’m from the northern Midwest. I’ve spent the last couple months just workin’ my way southwest." Jack said as he opened his beer. "I haven’t been down here since I was a kid, and I just wanted to get back to see how things have changed."

"Mmmm...that’s the funny thing ‘bout the desert son, it don’t change." Joseph smiled, as he peered off into the desert through the slapping windshield wipers. "You can go and travel thousands of millions of miles, but these parts will never change. The desert ain't got no memory of where it's been, and it ain’t got no idea where it’s goin’."

"That’s a very interesting thought Joe, and seeing how I haven’t been around here in years, I’d have to agree." Jack said as he took a long swallow from his cold beer.

"Ya got parents up north, or what’s the story with that?"

"Yeah, I told them that I was leaving, and took off after my high school graduation."

"What for kid? Didn’t ya have the grades for school?" Joseph asked, with a slight chuckle under his breath.

"No, no, that’s not it. In fact, I had a partial scholarship to my state university, but I saw myself becoming a victim to a life I haven’t lived yet. I felt as though I was becoming a man, but resided under the ties of my parents." Jack’s speech began to quicken as his self-examination began to take its course. "So, in order to be truly free, or to truly become a man, I had to break the ties that my parents had latched onto me. I felt like I must go out and find myself and realize my ambitions. Only then can I find freedom, then I can grow."

Jack heaved a long breath, and began to gleam, "surely these ideas are to deep for this simpleton," he thought.

"Wow, those are some pretty deep ideas for a man your age," Joseph said in a moment of contemplation. "But, what about the state of love and trust that exist between you and your parents. They seem to have invested a great amount of time in your wellbeing, and now you just want to take off and find your true self. Perhaps your parents are just trying to look out for your future so that you’ll be happy. After all, true life comes from experiences you haven’t had yet." Joseph paused to sip from his beer. A bead of sweat began to form on Jack’s forehead.

"Could it be that you’re your parents saw your potential to be a great individual who has the chance to be successful?"

"I’m not interested in leading, for a leader is merely a herdsman in front. I’m more interested in seeking out my own path. In my travels, I’m searching for inner experiences that I feel will open my eyes to an infinite amount of knowledge and experience." Jack replied in great haste, fearing the defensive tone that was creeping into Joseph’s voice.

"Ha, ha" Joseph laughed, "are ya kiddin’ me? You think that just ‘cause you’ve read a few books that you understand things. Well kid, I don’t care how much Gibran and Nietzche you think you understand there’s a lot more to life than you know. The fact of the matter is, you’re an insensitive kid, who thinks that god has given you some gift of enlightenment." Joseph’s voice was escalating into a tone of furious rage. "Just because you got a library card doesn’t make you special. In fact, it makes you an ignorant piece of shit ... a piece of shit ‘cause you think you’re smart, which magnifies your ignorance ten fold."

"Ah, well I think I’ll just get out at this station up here." Jack said in a shaky voice, and with a trembling finger pointed to a small hut rapidly approaching on the left-hand side of the road.

"You bet you are Jack." Joseph said, with a sinister grin spreading across his face. From underneath the driver’s seat, Mr. Pillman retrieved a shotgun that had been sawed off to the size of a pistol. He pointed it at Jack, who was fumbling frantically with the door handle.

"Bang!!!" The bullet fragments tore through the flesh of Jack’s left shoulder. He turned his body in hopes of fleeing the car. Joseph drew back the second hammer on the gun. Another blast resounded through the car, this time the bullet ripped through Jack’s head, spraying blood throughout the car’s interior, and sending bits of skull, and teeth ricocheting around the vehicle.

Joseph began laughing to himself as he drew the car to a stop. He reached over, popped open the door and kicked Jack’s lifeless body out onto the highway.

Jack jumped up from his slumber in startled relief. "Holy shit", he thought, as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Heaving a sigh of relief, he stretched out his limbs and rose from his resting-place of gravel and sand and threw his rucksack over his back.

Jack slowly made his way up to the highway. He looked at the asphalt trail that lay before him. He scanned the dry landscape of the Arizona desert. He stood at the road that went on contiguously in both directions. The sun was slowly slipping beneath the western horizon, and Jack took note of the darkness that was already looming over the east.

It was as though Jack was standing at the threshold between light and dark. On one side, the sun sank slowly behind the horizon, extending its arms of light and embracing the last moments of the fading day. On his other side, lay the immense darkness of the desert that enveloped every crevice of the land, as though the heat that had inhabited the day’s air had turned to cold obscurity in a matter of moments. Only tomorrow, when the sun rises, will the air once again be recharged with light and heat.

Straight ahead, he could see the desert landscape slowly surrendering to darkness. Deep inside of Jack, in a place he would never understand or know a great pain welled. At this moment, Jack had to choose a direction, and when one chooses a direction, the soul longs for what was lost in not choosing the other option.

With a slight hop in his step, Jack began his walk east.

He stared blankly at his feet. His brown hiking boots alternated positions in a procession that seemed beyond Jack’s control. Each step seemed to be more calculated and measured than anything he could have accomplished. As he watched his feet pull him further into the darkened desert, his mind began to wonder from memory to imagination, and dance between them.

First, he thought of the dream. Its contents had been so strange. The gruesome visual of his own insides falling from his head bothered him a great deal. What bothered him even more, was the notion that this dream had inspired him to back track. He wasn’t sure if he was going home, or if he was just retreating from the west. In fact, Jack new very little at this moment. For the first time in his life, Jack truly understood how little he knew of this world that he had set out to perceive.

In a matter of moments, headlights were creeping up the road behind him. Two yellow beams were filling the dark desert night. Jack slowly turned his head and raised his hand with an outstretched thumb.

A middle aged man stuck his head out of the Blue 1989 Mustang and asked "Where ya headin’ boss?"

The words rang like sirens in Jack’s mind. Fear was not the right word to describe the chill that crawled up his spine. It was something truer than fear, something he had never experienced before. Those words and their pre-existing presence in his mind, lead him to see something he had never seen before. The world, in all its infinite realms and possibilities had repeated itself. Jack had seen twice, and understood neither. Now he was forced to look into the eyes of his mind and ask if this moment was one of life’s coincidences or if this was something more.

"I’m going wherever you can take me," Jack replied.

"Well, I can take you about 45 miles east, and then I’m heading north."

"All right sounds good to me." Jack replied as he walked around the rear of the car. He pulled open the door and tossed his bag into the back seat, plopped down into the front seat and pulled the door closed behind him.

"What’s your name, son?" asked the driver.

"I’m Mike." replied Jack. The lie fell from his tongue with great indifference, as though by not telling the truth, Jack would not have to engage in genuine conversation.

"Well, Mike, I’m Jack. Nice to meet ya."

Before the driver could say another word, Jack said "Sir, do you mind if I take a nap until we stop?" he wasn’t really tired, he just wanted to avoid conversation. Without allowing the driver to answer, Jack rested his forehead against the cold window. The vibration of the road rapidly massaged the side of Jack’s head. No thought could remain in his mind. Fragments flowed in and out, leaving little or no trace in his mind. The sound of the driver humming to the radio mixed with the roar of the car, and despite Jack’s recent nap, he drifted off to sleep.

When Jack awoke, the sun was illuminating the sky. The desert looked cool and quiet in the early morning light. Panic welled up inside him. The car was no longer on a highway. Somewhere in the course of Jack’s slumber, the car had turned off onto a gravel road that wound slowly between small mountains. On one side of the road, the desert rocks shot up steeply, and on the driver’s side, there appeared to be a large drop-off that descended a few hundred feet.

"Ah, where are we?" Jack asked.

"Well, I had a slight change of plans and decided to continue on a little further. Hope you don’t mind...Mike." The driver placed a strange emphasis on the "Mike", as though he knew Jack was lying to him.

"Well, we seem to be off the beaten path. Do you know a short cut or something?"

"Shit son, I’ve been driving around these parts for years. This is just a little pass that I like to take for the view, and it doesn’t cost me any time."

"All right," replied Jack, "once we get on the main highway, I think I’ll be getting out."

"Sure, no problem." Said the driver, his demeanor suggesting that he didn’t care what words came from Jack’s mouth.

The road curved deeper and deeper into the mountains. The sun rose higher and higher into the sky, and the shadows that had covered the entire landscape the prior evening were receding under the rocks and cacti.

After nearly 30 minutes since Jack woke, the blue car pulled up to a closed gate.

"Stay here." Said the driver getting out of the car. He lifted up the gate a few inches from the gravel road, and pushed it across the road.

As the driver went on with his task, Jack looked around the inside of the car. A light dust covered most of the dark blue vinyl upholstery. The radio was softly playing a country song. The backseat held nothing. With quick jerky movements, Jack searched through the back, looking for his bag.

"What ya lookin’ for son?" asked the driver, having returned to the car wearing a grin across his face.

"I thought I tossed my bag into the back seat, but I don’t see it now."

"I wouldn’t worry about that Mike." He answered with his eyes staring blankly at the road ahead.

Jack turned his head forward with a look of astonishment and curiosity. A hill loomed before them. At the foot of the hill, sat a small ranch house. A tattered brown roof hung over the four darkened windows that adorned each tan plaster wall. The gravel driveway led to a small garage that was made of the same materials as the house. The driveway was void of any other vehicle, and the house appeared vacant.

Feeling the shudder of anxiety, Jack turned to ask the driver what was going on, but before a single word could escape from his mouth, a small metal bar cracked him across the face. Darkness fell on Jack.

Jack regained conscience to the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. His face throbbed. He brought his hand to his nose, and felt his warm sticky blood stain his hand. Upon further inspection, he felt the bone on the bridge of his nose protruding through the skin. The intense pain made him kick in spasm, but he found that his limbs had no where to move.

Jack opened his eyes. Darkness was all around him. It was the greatest darkness that he had ever experienced. He couldn’t observe the difference between his eyes being open or closed.

His fingers scanned along the wall that lined his sides and head. On each side, was a wall a few inches away, which supported a ceiling only a few inches from his head. The box was of adequate size for Jack to sit in, but not long enough to lay down or tall enough to stand up.

Fear and panic instantly rocked Jack’s mind. He let out several consecutive primal screams that seemed to fall on deaf ears, until he heard the sound of the driver laughing.

"Get me the fuck out of here!" he yelled.

The only reply he heard was the sound of the driver’s chuckle, which came to a halt and altered into a whistle. He whistled with great enthusiasm, a tune that Jack didn’t recognize. The whistle became more and more faint as the driver left the room.

Jack’s screams again filled the air, but there was no one to hear his futile cries.