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I have never been this high up before.
I look over to Bastian, who has been wearing my backpack for the last hour. For once, he looks like anyone else who spent their morning hiking in the sun. Slightly winded, shirt sticking to his chest with sweat, cheeks red.
The sight of him like this makes me want to burst into a full belly laugh.
It must be the endorphins.
Sliding the bag off his shoulders, he digs into it and hands me a water bottle. I take it and slink down onto the dirt with a large contented exhale. I take a long drink of water and hand it back to Bastian who is still standing. My gaze lingers on his lips—and how they are on the same bottle where my own lips just were. My stomach flips, and I suddenly feel twice as hot as before.
Startled by my body’s reaction, I tear my eyes from the alluring sight and slowly admire the landscape instead. The highway is so far away from here that the cars look like miniature toys from this distance. I could almost pluck them up from here if I tried. It is breathtaking.
“It is hard not to find the beauty of God in places like these.” The words just slip out, surprising me. I wrinkle my brows, biting my lip while I silently chastise myself. For once, a part of me hopes Bastian ignores me.
But finally, after a long stretch of silence, he sits beside me, arms wrapped around bent knees. “Why does it have to be God’s beauty? And not ours?” he inquires in an even tone.
I keep my eyes fixed on the horizon. “Whose?”
“Us.” I can feel his stare burning the side of my face but I do not meet his gaze. “Our co-existence with the world around us. Nature. Earth. Whatever you want to call it.”
I mull over his words for a while, a soft breeze cooling my heated skin. “You do not believe that God created life on earth?” I probe tentatively, finally looking his way.
He studies me, and I match his gaze. “Do you?” he says while bringing a flame to the cigarette between his lips. I watch the smoke roll out of his mouth, his throat bobbing with a swallow, the blue turning almost purple under his left eye, and I am suddenly hit by the powerful beauty of the man sitting beside me. Like he could create a crater of his own with just a flick of his cigarette.
I turn my attention back to the desert. “I do not know what I believe in anymore,” I finally whisper.
Bastian lets out a quiet chuckle and I nearly startle at the sound. He takes a long drag before saying, “Welcome to being human, Lucy.”
9
“Can you take a picture of me?” Lucy asks, handing me her phone.
We’re standing in the middle of the desert, yet again. This time in Santa Claus, Arizona. The place is a ghost town. The remaining buildings are heavily vandalized and in a dilapidated state. Nonetheless, Lucy is standing under an old faded sign that saysThis is it! Santa’s land, wearing denim overalls with a blue t-shirt underneath, beaming like she just found a hidden treasure under a rock.
We’ve been on the road for a few days now. The more time spent together, the less jumpy she seems to get like she’s gotten used to being around me. Not sure if I like that idea or not.
I squint against the bright sun and take her phone out of her grasp, doing as she says.
“Did you know I was not aware that Christmas even existed a year ago?” She talks through her smile, still trying to pose for the picture.
“Yeah? So why did you even want to come here?”
I guess the tone of my question had a bit too much bite because Lucy’s smile drops as soon as she takes her phone back, pocketing it without even looking at the photo I took.
“I do not need to justify everything I do on this trip to you,” she says in a clipped tone, walking away.
“Fair enough,” I mutter while I put my shades back on, squinting up at the clear blue sky.
Now standing a few feet ahead, peering into the hole in the ground, she says, “The well looks dry.”
I saunter closer. “I think it used to be a wishing well.”
She gives a small pout, freckled nose scrunching. “A wishing well? What is that?”
The innocence in her question makes my chest tight, but I ignore it.
“You whisper your wish into the well and then throw a coin in. Supposed to make your wishes come true.”
Her face morphs into a wide-open smile, green eyes twinkling like I just told her she won the lottery. “How fun!” Then her eyebrows knit together. “Wait, what if the well is dry?” she asks with all the seriousness in the world.
