Nix stared at me and asked, “Why?”
“Look at them. They just suck on the sun and fill up with goo. They feel everything-the wind, the rain, the sun. Mostly,they just feel good about themselves-all gooey inside.”
Tiny said, “Yeah, gooey on the inside but spikey on the outside.”
“Exactly. Nothing fucks with them because they’re covered in those asshole needles. That’s why they can just take all that sun and stay soft where it counts. God must have really loved the prickly pear, he did a lot of things right when designing them.”
We were on U.S. Route 67, just outside of Fort Stockton. In an hour we’d be in Alpine for a quick motel check in. Then it was on to Marfa for the show. The scenery was desolate and scrubby. This was the edge of the great southwestern American desert. The land wasn’t burdened with morality out here. This was the refuge of the reptile, the scavenger, the insect-and their ethic prevailed. It had a brutality to it that was beautiful. “Sister Golden Hair Surprise” by America was lilting out of the speakers.
Wild Wiles asked, “How long do we have before we need to head to Marfa?”
“Probably shouldn’t hang around the motel any longer than 30 minutes.” Zane replied.
“Thirty minutes” I cried. “But I wanted to play ‘baby’.”
Zane gave me a blank look. I scrunched my nose up and began yelling, “Wahhhh….Wahhhh-I wanna play baby…Baby hate leave motel after 30 minutes.”
Zane lifted his leg a let out a powerful fart. Everyone laughed. Stupidity is golden after 6 hours in a van. Stupidity may be the only thing keeping humanity sane. God gave the prickly pear thorns and inner goo. He gave people the nuclear codes and ability to laugh at their own farts. God must be pretty smart…