January 20th - Dry Conversations With a Camel
Dry Conversations With a Camel
Hal the camel swayed back and forth on its splayed hoofs, shifting the sands beneath it and breathing through closed nostrils. It had an arrogant cock to its head that Johnny admired, but drove him nuts. His feet sunk in the sand past his toes and after three days of this straight march through the desert, his legs burned with the pull. The desert has a liquid quality about it that is insulting. Johnny knew he was dying of thirst. So thirsty.
“Where are we?” asked Johnny.
“We are everywhere.”
“I don’t want to be everywhere. I want to be somewhere. Do you have anything to drink?”
“Who is it that carries this lifeless corpse of yours?”
“Is this hell, Hal!? What is that supposed to mean? Am I already dead?”
“I don’t know. Were you living?”
Johnny pinched his face and it hurt. “Ouch! Did you just want to see me do that?”
“Can I lick it?”
“Sure. Will that make me less thirsty?”
“Maybe.”
Hal licked Johnny’s face. Its tongue swept the whole of it, leaving a sticky mucus that glued Johnny’s eyelids down. Johnny licked at the mucus his tongue could reach, but it tasted like a bitter root ground in bile, and made his mouth feel dryer yet.
“Maybe I could ride on your back, and you could run to some water?”
“I don’t run. I only speed walk.”
“God, I shouldn’t have come here. I should just go home.”
“All things return to the one, but where does the one return?”
“I don’t know! Home? What one? Is this another joke?”
Hal grunted and then brayed.
“The joke is on me then.”
“To understand means to be capable of doing.”
“I don’t get it,” said Johnny. “I’m hungry.”
“There are plants up ahead.”
And sure enough, Johnny could perceive faint outlines of something on the flat desert. He quickened his pace.
“Cactus! What I wouldn’t give for some grass,” whined Johnny.
Hal strolled up to the nearest one and tore chunks out of it with its teeth. It stared off and munched. Johnny grabbed at one and cut his hand. “Yowwch! Awww, shoot! God dammit!”
“Can I lick it?”
“Yeah sure.”
“Mmmmm. Salty.”
“You’re welcome.” Johnny put the cactus in his mouth, forgetting to tear off the spine and bit down hard. “Yowshhhh. Awww, elp!” He quickly dislodged it from the roof of his mouth. “God dammit!”
“You can observe a lot just by watching.”
“God dammit Hal.”
“For a Christian, you sure say god dammit a lot.”
“It’s my right as a catholic.” Johnny was drooling blood now.
“Can I lick it?”
“No, you can not!”
“Alright.”
“What is this stuff. It tastes awful.”
“That is this and this is that.”
“Must you always talk like that?”
“Like what?”
“You’re so droll, so smug. Like you know everything.”
“There is only one everything.”
“Shut up. That’s dumb.” Johnny was irritated, but it was too hot out to be angry. He took a deep breath and sat down, choking down his cactus. “Is there water around? There’s gotta be right? I mean with these plants here.”
“Sometimes.”
Johnny noticed that the sun was getting lower. “We should get somewhere before night.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“Where are we going?”
“To water.”
“That sounds great! When will we get there?”
“When we get there.”
“I don’t get it. Can you give me a real answer?”
“To help someone understand something, you must risk misleading them first.”
“That’s nonsense. Do you know where you’re going?” asked Johnny.
“Always.” Hal tore off more chunks of the cactus and stared at Johnny, batting its eyelashes placidly at him.
“God dammit.” Johnny carefully removed some spines from some more cactus before putting it in his mouth. He began to feel a little better.
“Let’s make a fire.” And Hal pooped on Johnny’s feet.