Day Two of my journey from Cali to Texas. After the fifth hour of silence and solitude, I called my mom from the road.
My Mom: Hello?
Me: Remember when I was five and we went as a family to that dude ranch in Wyoming?
My Mom: Uh-huh.
Me: And a whole group of us went on a trail ride and I spotted a horse skull on the ground and one of the guides picked it up for me?
My Mom: Yeah, you kept that thing for years.
Me: Years! Why didn’t you tell me that was a weird thing to do?
My Mom: Well, it was definitely strange, but I figured you were interested in it in an archaeological sort of way.
Me: I used to go into my closet and play with its teeth.
My Mom: Okay, that’s pretty weird.
Me: I liked the way it felt.
(Long silence)
My Mom: So…
(Another long silence)
My Mom: Okay…well…I’m gonna go now…
Me: Oh. Alright.
My Mom: Well, you’re not saying anything, and if I’m just going to be listening to the sound of my own breathing, I can be doing it while I clean the house.
She was right, of course, so I let her go, returning to my silence and solitude for another five hours. Nothing like staring straight ahead at endless miles of desert road to excavate buried reminders of what a strange human being I am and always have been.
A horse skull. Jesus.
Author: Britt Warner
