The Sensitives by Oliver Broudy

Author:Oliver Broudy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2020-07-13T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17 The Gospel of Dr. Gray

We blazed south into the flatlands, the blue range of the Pinaleño Mountains to the west and to the east just thirst. On the outskirts of nowhere a sign raced up to say “Thank You” for no obvious reason, except to make us realize how long we’d been waiting for this simple courtesy. Then, disappointingly, a few hundred yards farther on, another sign: “For Visiting Willcox.” We had, evidently, just visited Willcox.

Onward, past a dry lake bombing range which didn’t show up on any tourist map, through the Sulphur Springs Valley, riding the hot meridian down toward Nogales. James had put on another episode of Philosophize This!, and our host was chattily unpacking Voltaire as we descended into a valley strewn with truck-sized boulders. New variations of cactus were beginning to appear, thin and antlery, pineapple squat. “Doubt is an unpleasant condition,” our host said, quoting his subject, “but certainty is absurd.”

The road swung north and we exited onto a wide empty street, past tattered trailers and self-storage warehouses. A slow right at the deserted 86 Cafe and then another, down an even emptier street, past dirt yards and shoebox houses and trailers like desert freighters riding out the sun. The Rover slowed to a drift, James’s talk of buying and renovating his own trailer park fading as we began to wonder whether the GPS had led us astray.

A call to Dr. Gray confirmed that it had not. Following his instructions, we proceeded to the end of the road and hooked a left down a long driveway. A low yellow house waited at the end of it, with an ancient bus parked on the grass, the bottom half painted a teal that might have once been green. To the right, a tilled field baked in the heat, at the edge of it an iridescent blue Volkswagen Beetle with dune buggy wheels and a large overturned flower pot in the front trunk. One part of the yard was surrounded by a high chain link fence, and beyond that we could see what looked like a shipping container. None of this made any sense. We parked under a tree and cracked the doors on throbbing brightness and 100-degree heat.

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