Ghost Time

on the side of the road, following right behind me. He didn’t honk, he didn’t roll down his window or anything, but still. At first, for like the first mile, I wanted to turn and yell, scream at him to leave me alone, let me be, I needed to walk. Alone! I didn’t, I just made fists with both my hands, and he knew what I meant, and I knew he knew, and he knew I knew he knew, but he followed behind me anyhow.
    I could see him like I had eyes in the back of my head, calmly driving, and one by one, the highway started lighting up withpeople turning on their headlights. And then it crossed my mind, how I must look, but I wasn’t getting in. And if he wanted to follow the whole way, let him follow. And he did. Three miles, all these different cars slowing down on the highway, drivers honking to make sure I was all right, was this guy bothering me? Then, seeing it was obviously some sort of lovers’ quarrel, whatever, they drove on.
    I walked the whole way, too. Sometimes Cam could talk me down—just about all the time, but not now, not this time. I remember the sound of the gravel crunching behind me, as he slowly turned, pulling into our parking lot, but I didn’t turn around even then. But he still waited out front—Cam waited until I got inside, and then, after I closed the door, he flashed his lights three times, shining through our curtains. Standing there, in our living room, alone, there were so many words, banging around in my chest, working their way up to my throat, choking me, and all I could think was, Why am I such a spaz? It was so embarrassing, because I knew what I was doing, and I knew it was wrong to behave like that, but I just couldn’t do any better. And my eyes welled up, because it was his big day, that envelope was his ticket, and he earned it. Cam worked so hard, and I felt awful, so awful, seeing myself like that: small.
    So I went back outside, fast as I could, and just as he was about to pull a U-turn, I leaned over the ledge, over the rail. I didn’t even know what to say for myself, behaving like that, but he stopped and looked up at me. I could see him perfectly, too, because of the big overhead light that shines down on the parking lot; it’d just turned on. Still, all I could do was hold up my hand,press it flat against the air. That was all I had to say for myself, really. Cam looked at me, through the windshield for a moment, and then, he did the same, waiting as I moved my hand, aligning it, so it fit, pressing against his.
    I didn’t see him again until Monday morning, because he went with Karen to do some work on the properties she owns, somewhere in the Catskills. I worried for a second whether or not he’d pick me up Monday morning, but he did. I was so happy, too, when I saw him pull into the parking lot. I had an apology all prepared, when I got in the car that morning, then he leaned over and kissed me, soon as I closed the door. He goes, Before you say anything, I want to ask you something. He looked so serious, too, like he’d been thinking about it all night. All right, I said, bracing myself, taking a deep breath. Then he goes: Have you ever seen a thunderstorm in the desert? No, I said, waiting, thinking, I’m the storm or the desert or where are you going with this? Natural disaster, what? And he goes, No? I said, No. I’ve never seen the desert. Pictures, I said, shrugging. You’ve seen pictures, he said, smiling. I was just like, Yes. Looks cool. Very, um, mystic, I said.
    He looked out his window, thinking it over, and then he goes, Thea, Thea, Thea…, squeezing the steering wheel with both hands. What are we going to do with you, Theadora Denny? I go, Is that a rhetorical question? Then he turns and looks at me: You’ve got to see the desert, Thee. You just gotta see it to believe it. And it is mystical, it’s… it gets in your blood. It’s like, I don’t know. Corny, but it’s just one of those places that make you feel so damn small, so completely insignificant, but in the best possible way, he said. Which is what? I said, and he said, Humbled.And then, when it rains—I mean, it almost never rains, but if you’re there when it does, it’s like watching the earth and sky going ten rounds. Awesome , he said.
    Someday, I said, still waiting for the gist. By that point I was just like, Okay, let me have it already, you’re making me tense here with these weather reports. No, listen, we need to go, he said, and I said, I know: first bell is in