The desert

I tossed and turned for hours. My brain working on overdrive, just for a change. I attempted to use all my knowledge on how to still the mind, breathing techniques, meditation, calming music. In the end it was the mini bar that saved me. I sat on the balcony staring into the vast blackness. My room faced towards the desert, exactly what I had desired and requested. It was almost possible to believe I was alone in this vastness. I sipped my drink and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Despite being so intensely achingly tired, I was relieved to have stopped fighting the battle for sleep. Acceptance in itself brought a deeper sense of tranquility. Earlier as I’d stepped out the shower and was preparing for bed, I’d received a message. He too was clearly feeling overwhelmed by our conversation and had decided a little leisure time was necessary to facilitate the flow of information between us and lighten the heavy mental load. We were to go out for some desert fun, dune bashing and momentarily emulate the behavior of the care -free tourists around us. I felt the soothing heat of the alcohol coursing through my veins. I yawned and stretched, thinking it best to make one last attempt at sleep. The alcohol had served its purpose. When I next opened my eyes, my alarm was bleeping furiously in the bright morning light. He sat waiting in the foyer. He seemed to be shouting at someone on the phone. One could never be quite certain if it were shouting angrily or was it just that commanding tone again. He noticed me approaching and abruptly stopped the call. “Good morning. I trust you slept well?” He greeted me with a bright smile instantly adopting a more jovial tone. I smiled back. “Actually, yes thanks. In the end anyway with a little help from the mini bar.” He looked slightly surprised at this admission. “I thought you weren’t a drinker?” “I’m not generally. Very, very, rarely do I have any alcohol at home. I’m more a one glass of wine a week girl and the occasional two shots if it’s a night out. That’s my level of naughtiness and capacity to hold my booze. However, on occasions like last night, two small drinks did the job. And I was most thankful to be honest. I really did need my sleep.” “Well, that’s what’s important then. As long as you haven’t got a hangover and you’re not feeling queasy. Dune bashing isn’t gonna be much fun if you are!” He winked. I was glad he seemed in a lighter mood today. I was still slightly dreading our conversation which was stupid really given this entire encounter between us had been my wish, my idea. The morning went well, better than I’d expected. I shrieked like a teenage girl as we drove at top speed over the dunes. His Wrangler jeep was a monster. I loved every moment of it. The wind in my hair, the music playing on the radio. My body being tossed from side to side as the vehicle almost flew from one dune to another, dangerously teetering on the edge at times, leaving me breathless with fear and anticipation. “You want to go the desert camp where the tourists go? It’s pretty lame but it’s funny. I think with your humour you’ll appreciate it. I know the guy who runs it. We can just turn up.” I agreed, content to keep the moment flowing. It was as kitsch and amusing as he’d promised. We sat cross legged on floor cushions, sharing large juicy dates, drinking strong, sickly sweet tea. We were served an array of local delicacies. He offered me the sheesha pipe which I declined. He sat smoking, staring thoughtfully at the tourists around us. A belly dancer was keeping the crowd entertained. The pulsating music and sensual moves of her voluptuous body transfixed the audience, particularly the male spectators. I already knew by the expression on his face and body language that his mood was shifting into a state of introspection. “It’s kind of weird really, this curiosity we all posses, this curiosity of each other. How we travel to watch how each of us lives, how we behave, what we eat, how we entertain ourselves. You know that child -like curiosity that most of us lose. Being a tourist is a bit like reconnecting with that inner child. Even some of the silly idiotic behavior.” He laughed drily as a blonde red- faced male tourist clambered on the stage and attempted to gyrate with the belly dancer. He was sweating profusely in the desert heat despite the temperature gradually lowering. His partner was shrieking with delight, photographing the spectacle. He shook his head wryly. “Whatever floats your boat.” I smiled at his English. “You know you are pretty funny at times. You can tell you lived in the UK for a few years. Apart from your English being so good, you’ve picked up some amusing expressions.” “Thank you for the compliment.” He nodded. “Have you enjoyed the day? Was it a good enough distraction from the apocalypse that awaits?” I momentarily felt my mood slump. “Well, it had been until you used the term, ‘apocalypse’.” “Sorry, my brutal honesty gets the better of me at times.” He shrugged apologetically. He didn’t sound sorry though. His voice was hard. “Poor bastards. They really have no idea.” “How do you know that? We are here too. A distraction from reality. There could well be others among us here too for a momentary release from the trauma in this world.” “True.” He agreed. “I’m sorry for my harshness. I’m sure you understand. We share the same frustrations.” He motioned for the sheesha to be removed. He stood up, shaking off the sand from his clothes. He reached down to pull me up from the cushions. It seemed the day was over, our desert distraction. We were leaving behind the spectacle of the sweaty tourist and voluptuous dancer. Back to face the music. We clambered into the jeep and sat quietly for a while, savoring the deep peace of the desert. Despite being so close to the camp, the noise and music seemed a distant echo as it carried softly on the warm breeze. “On a clear night the stars are incredible.” He looked up above us. There were only a few stars visible at this early hour. “I’ve always wanted to spend the night in the desert. Camp out.” He looked at me in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me that before? I would have arranged it. I haven’t met many women that like camping nowadays. They prefer the comfort and luxury of a five -star hotel.” “I’m not all women. I’m me. I love camping and always have. You’ve just been hanging with the wrong women. That’s what happens when you’re a wealthy successful businessman. You meet superficial women” He laughed holding up his hands in a position of surrender. I was glad to have shifted the mood again. “Can you stay away an extra night, could that be arranged? We could camp tomorrow. Let’s enjoy the moment now. Tomorrow we have the final discussion, in the middle of the desert. That will make things easier, soften the blow.” “Yes, my final night, in the middle of the desert. Very appropriate. I agree.” I called the family as soon as I returned to the hotel. I was reassured that things were still relatively normal and  one more night away would be fine. If things shifted in the meantime, they would contact me immediately.  I attempted a conversation with my daughter. “Hi. What?” The teenage forthright response. I laughed.  Obviously, I was not being missed too much. “How’s stuff? How are you feeling?” I asked. “Yeah, fine. Just a bit  of a cough but nothing much. We’re ok. Watching lots of Netflix and eating comfort food. Pretending everything  is normal.” I could see her in my mind’s eye, shrugging and pulling that face, faking nonchalance when deep  down she was as shit scared as all of us. “Ok babe, just carry on like that. I’m back tomorrow.” I could almost hear her mental cogs whirring. “So, what’s he like then? Is he good looking? Is he rich?  You know what we told you, no more poor, hippy Jesus look alike boyfriends. You’re getting older, you need some comfort in your old age.” My God, who was the parent here? “Jesus, I’m still in my 40’s! I may not be in my 20’s but I’m not quite ready for retirement yet. Anyway, it’s not like that at all. This is business, or better said, survival. I’ll tell you about him when I see you. Love you. Bye.”  I hung up before she could continue with the interrogation. Besides, I wasn’t quite sure myself what I was feeling right now and didn’t need the mental probing from someone else.