Greenline

18

Friday, June 10th. 4:38 am.

I watched the gas gauge like a hawk as we soared down Route 67, beyond thankful that the boy humming along to the radio beside me had pushed me over $600 at the last store to purchase two gallons of gas. The loudly marked "Last Petrol Station" and "No Clean Water Beyond Here" signs before the desert stretch to the North Rim of the Grand Canyon had been accompanied by such a huge charge that my palms were still sweating against the wheel. There were quite a few brake lights spread out ahead of us every quarter-mile or so, tinting the dark sandy lands with a red hue that felt surreal against the cacti and tumbleweeds.

A gasp caught in Isaac's throat and I flinched, terrified as I looked over to check on him. His eyes were wide with exuberance and drank in the faint red lights as he dropped his mouth open wide with his teeth on display, a smile that he couldn't even properly form from his awe. He stuttered my name as he pointed up and out of the top of my windshield, which I had to crane my neck to see from my height. A huge shadow flapped overhead and I could hardly make out the creature above, only certain of my instinct to stay in my shelter as my hair rose up on the back of my neck. "I think that was an eagle!" He shouted in such certainty, I could only stare in shock.

A rustling took over the car as he frantically dug out our fresh pair of binoculars before he smacked the side of my arm on the center console. "Pull over! I wanna see where it's going!"

My mouth dropped into an "o", but those eyes caught me before I could even think of declining. Everything in me told me not to take up this wild, narrow road in the near pitch black and let the company of strangers ahead of us go even further away while who-knows-what stalked us over the dunes. I heard myself throwing the car into park and my hazard lights clicking before I even realized I was doing it.

Isaac didn't even wait for the car to finish lurching back from its unsteady parking brake before he had left me in the car to steady his arms on the hood and aim his binoculars across the desert. A euphoric laugh took over me as I stared at his rippling shirt in the doorway, shaking my head before I got out to join him. By the time I walked over, he was certain it was an eagle - golden, he insisted, which I thought I was making up at the time. I still find myself looking out for them everywhere, now that the populations have moved up to our state in the years since. Sometimes I wonder if they did it for his spirit, but he would have laughed in my face at the notion – they just have habits and needs that change, he'd explain.

I rejoiced in how he threw the rough plastic telescopes into my hand before I could even tell which blob across the sky he was telling me to look at against the navy blue twilight out west. He had his hand over my shoulder and was on the tip of his toes to try and angle them correctly for me, his warmth washing over me in the cool night. When I finally caught those majestically feathered wings, spread out larger than I had ever imagined as it swooped into a nest within the trees across the sand, I lost my breath and found true wonder. Here was this creature that lived in the harshest conditions and thrived, bringing back materials for the next generation.

When I finally pulled back from the binoculars, I found Isaac stood up on the inside of the car where we both stood away from the road. He cleaned over with his hands flat to cover his forehead from the red lights now stopped ahead of us, pulled over to witness the same incredible creature that Isaac had noticed. I glanced behind us and realized we had gathered quite a few spectators as well, doing just as we were. A few cars politely passed to continue onto the national park.

Softer than I'd ever heard from him in the midst of so much excitement, Isaac prodded my shoulder and asked if he could take the binoculars back for a moment. I returned them instantly, eager for him to get the same, crisp view I had. He inhaled tightly as he took it in, lips wavering in a way that told me his eyes were watering. That was the photo I took of him, and he despised it. To me, it was the most beautiful thing he could ever give me; evidence of our time together when everything felt right.