Oasis Phobia

Hunter Lai

Ms. Bennett

World Literature Honors 6

April 25, 2014

Oasis Phobia

I had not been stuck for long, but without food or water, a day and a half feels like a week. As I trudged along in the blankets of sand, the streaming sun rays evaporated the moisture out of me. The vast expanse of desert was an uncomfortable and overwhelming feeling for a city boy used to skyscrapers and tight spaces. The sandy waves around me reached crests of twenty feet high, but were like little ant hills compared to the lofty and proud glass buildings.

There I was in the middle of a valley between two powdery slopes. I was back where I had been countless times before, at the bottom of a hill, about to make my long and exhausting trek up twenty feet of sand. Hunched i jeans with sand caught in the folds at the cuff, a short-sleeved shirt, and a jacket that rested upon my head, I procrastinated on my journey upwards. The clothing offered minimal protection, but with a broad desert that had no shade that would relieve my skin, it would have to do.

I had heard about many people who had gotten lost, sailors who found themselves lost at sea, mountain climbers that were caught in blizzards, or explorers lost in jungles, but nothing could compare to a desert. The monotonous color and shape of the hills, and their unwavering repetition toyed with my mind. With every climb up and down a mound of sand, came a similar emotional experience. The hope for civilization slowly escalated with every step in the sand, but was then bogged down by my heavy body when nothing could be seen from the crest.

Slowly though, the individual emotions and mounds of sand blended together like watercolor paints, making each exactly like the other. My slow sloppy steps sunk in the scalding sand as I completed each rote action with extreme effort. The energy had been draining out of my body since the day I got lost and now I was empty. Those final steps up the mound were the hardest and after days of just right foot, left foot and lack of water and food, I collapsed. 

I laid there, completely hopeless, completely given up. There was no end in sight, and I was just wandering aimlessly. The dry, hot sand pressed up against my splotchy red cheek. Some grains of sand crept into my mouth and stuck in the sticky saliva that coated it. I could feel the wind grazing over my body, when I noticed a color. This color was not blue nor yellow-brown, which were the colors I had become accustomed to for a day and a half. This was color different; this was green.

After many moments of dazedly staring at the green, I registered what I saw in my eye. I quickly scrambled to my feet, falling a couple times as molasses-like sand gave beneath my dusty tennis shoes. Only about one hundred yards away was an oasis.

I saw a shallow pool of water reflecting the bright sun with small clusters of date palms and shrubs sprinkled around the demarcation of the water and land. Hope inside me revived, but hope was not received alone. I recalled the two “oases” that I had seen only hours ago. When I saw both, the first and second, I wildly dashed to them, and when I reached the water’s edge I opened my mouth and shoved it into the sand.

I stood there contemplating. The disappointment of the other two mirages was emotionally straining. The feeling of hope and salvation were quickly and devastatingly replaced by a grainy mouth and extreme disappointment. Reason told me it was a mirage, while hope whispered it was water. I stared, unblinkingly, at the pond, as an internal debate raged inside. I saw Sirens of the rustling date palm leaves and crystal clear water beckoning their weak prey, but I walked on. As I faded into the distance, a small lizard scrambled to the water’s edge. Little “V” shape ripples were formed as it rushed into the water drinking all it could and dancing in the revitalizing liquid under a tree.