My bare feet grip the red sand as if my life depends on it, toes digging into the dusty surface

of the
desert’s skin as hard as they can.

That’s all I can do right now; no other movement dares enter my body as I stand, frozen, staring at
the infinitesimal stretch of land before me. There is something so beautiful about it – a silent ochre
plain, disturbed only by the orache and broom bush which cover the landscape in an unmoving,
spiny carpet. An earthy odour leaves the land with the pulsating waves of upwards heat. It fills my
nostrils, gentle enough not to overwhelm me, but noticeable enough that every time I breathe a little
too hard I am reminded of it: the land has invited itself into my body – as if my bony frame were its
rightful resting place, as if, by taking myself to the middle of this big dirt sea, I have given myself up
to it.

The rumble of a truck on the road behind me snaps me out of my trance – I turn towards the road,
watching in silence as the great metal beast crawls into the distance with a murmured growl of
exhaust pipes and shifting metal. A minute has barely passed before the truck is too small to see, and
once again, I am alone in my patch of desert; suddenly, as soon as the isolation registers in my brain,
a desire to turn back again and lose my mind in the sands fills my body. Not a passing impulse, but a
primal, visceral urge that tugs on every fibre of my body: desperate, but gentle – like a mother
desperately clinging to the arm of her child. I tear myself away from it, though, and as I do, a big
breath of air leaves my body, slipping away into the expanse as I kick my shoes on and run as fast as I
can to my car, which I have left parked haphazardly on the gravelly shoulder of the road. I cannot see
it, but I know that breath of air is long gone, swallowed up in the great blue sky, or buried in the layer
of heat hanging around the shrubbery; a part of me, whether I want it or not, has succumbed to the
urge.

I pull out and hit the gas.

The inside of the car is twice as warm as the outside – beams of hot light are magnified through my
windows as I hurtle along the black road. My left hand reaches to turn the air conditioner on,
clammy digits shakily grasping the plastic dial and turning it as far to the right as it will go.
Immediately, a blast of cool air leaves the vents and hits my body, reeking slightly of burnt plastic – a
sharp contrast to the warm smell of the stagnant desert air. The pungent air is nauseating, but I leave
it on; if not to save myself from the heat, by force of habit. The cold begins to fill the car as it spills
out from chuffing pipes. It doesn’t feel like it’s dispersing evenly through the small interior, no, it
begins to settle at my feet, swelling and ebbing as it crawls up my legs: a pool of frigidity creeping
higher, like the banks of a river at high tide. My crotch, my stomach, my chest, and eventually, my
neck – the sensation is suffocating, and involuntarily, I find myself breathing hard and digging my
kinked fingernails into the faux leather covering the car’s steering wheel until marks begin to form. I
know I should turn the air conditioner off, but I cannot bring myself to do it; as oppressive as the
smell and sensation are, they are familiar, and in their own strange way, comforting. The overload
that begins to spread through my brain brings with it a memory of a well-known voice that cuts
through the groaning hum of the air conditioner.

Suddenly, my foot slips from the accelerator – I veer across the road, letting loose a frightened groan
as my shaking hands fumble, trying to turn off the air conditioner and regain control of the car all at
once. For a moment, I lose myself to the panic: I zone out, letting my reflexes take control as the
emotions I have been holding in for this whole trip washes over me in an instant. Physically, I have
straightened the car, and turned the air conditioner off as fast as I can, but in my mind, I am lost in
the microcosm of a memory; I am sixteen again, hunched over the wheel of my father’s car, pulled
over on the gravelly shoulder of this same road, rocking, moaning, and crying as he screams at me
for going over the speed limit.

“What is wrong with you? Were you not paying attention? It’s just driving, mate, all you have to do is
put your bloody foot down on the pedal and go!”

My hands are locked firmly at ten and two, and my head is buried beneath my shoulders as I scream
into the bubble I have created; a desperate attempt to block out the rest of the world. Cold air
scratches against my knuckles and shuffles my hair about: more stimulation than I can bear right
now.

“Pl-ease,” I manage to choke out through sobs, my quivering voice stilting the word into two sharp
syllables, “turn it off!”

My left hand reaches for the vent behind the steering wheel, scratching desperately against the
plastic grilles to communicate what my words cannot.

“Fucking hell, look at you, you can’t even speak! You’re fucking sixteen, mate, act like it!”

With a grunt of exasperation, my father reaches a calloused hand to the air flow knob, turning it to
zero. With a quiet mechanical cough, the air conditioner shuts down, and we are left in a stagnant
silence, broken only by my shaky sobs.

“…Alright, I’m sorry, please just stop your weeping. I didn’t mean to yell, I just… I should’ve known
better than to bring you out here.”

My lap is soaked with saline water, and mucus drips from my reddened nose. I stare intently
downwards, absorbing his words but giving no response.

“I just… I thought seeing this place would ground you a little. My father took me here when I was just
a kid, and I was so mesmerised by the beauty of this great big country. I thought experiencing how
big the universe is would… I don’t know, I thought it’d calm you down a little. I don’t know how to
deal with you, Joseph, I’m sorry. I was never ready for this. I… You can’t blame me for wanting a
normal son, can you? I know getting diagnosed was a big weight off your chest, but it’s scary to me –
I keep wondering what I did wrong.”

“…I like it here.”

“What?”

“I like it here. This place. It’s big, and wide, and there’s nobody except you here to look at me. There
are no big trees, which means that nothing is hidden from me.”

“Joseph, please don’t change the subject.”

“Every time I look out the window, I feel this tugging in my forehead, and I keep thinking about
stopping the car and getting out and wandering away into the distance. I wish I could stay here
forever. If I learn how to drive without going over the speed limit, and I get my license, can I drive out
here by myself?”

“…”

“Dad?”

“…Yes, Joseph, I guess you could. You can’t stay out there forever, though.”
“Why?”

“Because you would probably eventually die, mate. And I can’t have you dying. I need you here.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“What- No, that’s… You know what I mean. I mean, you don’t, but… I don’t hate you, mate. I love you
more than anything… You know what, promise you won’t come out here by yourself until I’m gone,
okay?”

“That will be ages. You’re not that old, dad.”

“We’ll see, mate. We’ll see... Come on, hop out of your seat, and take the plates off. I’ll take it from
here, we need to get to the roadhouse quick; I’m fucking starving.”

I look out, over the horizon. In the horizon, the sun is beginning to set; the day’s blue melting away
into a warm yellow on the Western flank of the land. He’s right, it’s getting dark, and I’m starting to
get hungry.

“I’m going to have a chicken parm for dinner, dad. I promise I won’t cry if the cheese tastes wrong
like I did when we went last time. Tomorrow, I’m going to go into the land. Things have gotten better,
I know, I’m medicated, and I know I’ve learned how to deal with everything, but you were right. I’m
not normal. It sounds stupid, but I really do like it out here more than anything. Nobody will miss me.
That’s a fact, actually; I know it sounds like an exaggeration, but I haven’t really been talking to
anyone since you died, except for the people at my work – but they don’t really care about me that
much. I’m going to walk as far as I can. I know that the sand will be hot, and there will be animals,
and animals scare me, but I don’t think that these animals will hurt me. I really hate it when people
act like they have some spiritual connection with the universe, but I honestly feel like the land is
waiting for me, dad. I nearly walked off today, but I got distracted, and then I got scared, so I ran
away. Then, I thought that I should go and visit the roadhouse like we did last time, because you said
that was your favourite place in the whole trip. Also, I’m sorry for losing control back there. I know
that I’m not a very good driver, I never was.”

Though the seat next to me is empty, I feel a presence with me in the car.

“Please don’t think that this is your fault. I know how hard it was to love me, especially when it was
just the two of us at home. I never really said so, but I loved you too, dad.”

“It’s okay, mate. I know you did.”