Summer Storm

It was hot. I was driving across the desert from New Mexico to California along some of the longest loneliest roads in the Southwest. Every hour or so we would see warning signs, “No water or gas for the next 50 miles.” I had been sent on a rescue mission by my mother from our home in California to pick up my stranded sister Birdie in Alamogordo. She had run off with her boyfriend three months earlier but he dumped her in the middle of Texas with no money or way to get home. She managed to get part way home then swallowed her pride and called for help.

“Why couldn’t you have brought a fucking car that had good air conditioning?” my sister complained.

“You know damn well why, I wasn’t about to rent a luxury Cadillac just to haul your dumb ass around the desert.” I was a little annoyed myself because as mightily as the AC in my car strained, it wasn’t keeping the blistering August heat at bay. I was as irritable as my sister.

We rolled over the crest of a large hill and the entire western sky was black with storm clouds. We were headed directly into a summer desert storm. I welcomed the sight as it meant for a while the rain and clouds would reduce the heat. I also knew that if it rained and stormed violently enough we would have to be wary of flash flooding. I drove headlong into the driving rain and crashes of lightning.

As far as desert storms go this one lasted a long time, twenty minutes under the raging sky convinced me to pull off the road to high ground and wait it out. I stopped at a turnout that offered a view of an arroyo and the sand hills behind it. Birdie and I got out of the car and enjoyed the drenching rain and watched the gully fill rapidly with cascading muddy water. As we watched the torrent Birdie banged me on the back and yelled “Look at that!” I twisted my head just in time to see the small road bridge over the gully warp and crack then the far end fell into the flood. In seconds it was torn in half and if my car had been on it my sister and I would be trying to float.

Two things flashed through my mind, I was glad I stopped when I did and it was going to be a long drive to detour around the fallen bridge. Birdie was caught up by the raw strength of the storm, awestruck and excited by the force of the tempest and water but also nervous. She squeezed close to me then clutched my arm tight while the world went nuts around us. In her eighteen and a half years she had never been this close the unleashed force of nature.

The clouds and rain moved east leaving us alone on the vast water-logged desert. The flash flood was rapidly flushing toward the Gulf of Mexico and in a half an hour all that was left were large pools of muddy water in the bends of the arroyo. The bridge had been the only way across the gap to the next town which was 20 miles further. I checked my gas gauge and saw that I didn’t have enough to drive to the town behind us. After a few aborted attempts to get a cell signal I threw my phone into the back seat in disgust and declared “Shit! We can’t cross here, I don’t have enough gas to go back, and the fucking phone is useless.”

She looked around the desert then at me “Maybe we should wait here. Somebody will be coming along this road and we can warn them about the bridge and get help.” I thought it over, she was right. If nothing else the state would be sending inspectors to check all the bridges. If we sat there, those inspectors would find us.

We sucked down a bottle of water and settled in to wait. For a while I ran the engine so we could use the worthless AC but the fuel needle wasn’t very encouraging so I shut down the car. In seconds the heat and humidity climbed into three digits. Birdie and I got out of the car and managed to find some shade at the bottom of the gully. Since the rain had moved on we weren’t worried about more flooding so we relaxed as much as possible. Gradually the sun dropped low to the west and the sky turned to reds and oranges. My sister retrieved two bags of chips and another bottle of water which was the entire menu for our dinner. As the sky filled with bright relief stars, I told my sister “Nobody will be coming by here tonight. Inspectors can’t see in the dark and anybody else on this road would be as lost as we are.”

“We aren’t lost, we’re stuck.” Birdie reminded me.

“Yeah, but anybody else stupid enough to be out here tonight would be lost or somebody we don’t want to meet. I guess we’ll have to sleep in the car.”

“I have to go pee” my sister announced and slipped into the shadows away from me.

Teasingly I said, “Watch out for snakes or tarantulas.”

In seconds she was back, eyes wide with insecurity “Snakes?”

“Yeah, that flood had to have washed away some snake dens, them critters will be slithering around looking for a hole to crawl into. If you drop your pants, that’s two holes a snake might find inviting.”

“Goddammit you cocksucker, why did you have to say that!?” She darted her eyes left and right then sat back down next to me. “Sonofabitch motherfucking asshole” she muttered as she peered into the fading twilight.

After about five minutes of silent pouting my sister turned toward me “You keep a look out, I really have to pee.” She stood next to me then opened and dropped her summer shorts and panties to her knees then squatted down and let loose a fast hard stream of piss. To say I was surprised would be an understatement. I watched her squatting next to me, a minor flood of yellow fluid causing a crease in the sand; her eyes were closed and lines of relief showed on her brow.

When she was done she stood to pull up her clothing but I stopped her with “What the hell is that, a tattoo?”

She looked down at the inked picture of Tinkerbelle just below and to the right of her bellybutton.