Wednesday, May 27, 2009

come back to me

She couldn’t remember much about that day. They were driving in the desert and the road seemed to stretch out for miles. All she remembers is that it was very hot- scorching even- and she could barely think straight from all the heat. They were in his car. It was a beat up old Chevy- a mere shadow of what it was ten years ago. They could sense what was coming but perhaps out of fear, they both ignored it. The heat was unbearable but his gaze on her fevered neck burned even more.

“Do you believe in God?” she whispered. He held her hand, looked into her eyes and sighed.

“In moments like this, I know God exists.”

She looked at him, helpless in his car’s leather seat. Why this? Why now? Why me?

“Maybe one day… when you’re older or bigger or stronger… maybe we could start again.” It was a silent promise that she would keep in her heart forever. He opened the door- his personal way of letting her go. The desert was hot. She was unsure of what was to come. She looked at him as if to say please don’t leave me.

It is night time. A small blue car pulls up. The window rolls down and from the benign darkness, a shadow could be seen inside.

“Need a ride?” he asks.

“No. I’m waiting for someone.”

“Are you sure? It must be scorching out there. I can take you where you need to go.”

“I’m waiting for someone. He said he’ll come back for me.”

He looks in her eyes, so full of despair. I can’t help you, they seemed to say. He drove away, leaving only the dust to settle once again on the barren desert road.

In the morning, another car pulls up.

“Get in.” he says, confident of his next conquest.

“I’m waiting for someone. He’ll be here soon.”

“I won’t take no for an answer. I can give you a better life.”

“He’ll be here soon. You wouldn’t want him to see you. He’s coming back. I just know it.”

He drives away, the dust forming clouds in the air. She imagines faces and places in those clouds. That one looked like a rabbit caught mid-leap. Another one looks like a cat giving birth. This one looks a lot like him. Maybe he’s just circling around the block. Maybe he’s on his way back.

“Please don’t tell me you’re coming back...” she whispers. “…if you’re not.” It was a silent prayer. God knows if He heard her.

It’s been two years. She still walks the lonely road alone. She still thinks about him sometimes. The desert leaves no leaf unturned, no dirt unshaken.

Photo Credit: PBase

David Cook
Come Back To Me
David Cook