The Rock Hunt

Jeff and Ryan had been friends since childhood. They grew up in the desert together.

We went hunting for rocks in an abandoned lot they both knew by heart. I followed Ryan’s rundown white van in my dented Tesla. The rough road had me bouncing in my seat. Along the way, I saw a rusted skeleton of a car half-buried in the sand.

I had run out of money. Still, I wanted more rocks.

“How about this one?” Jeff shouted across the lot. I looked up from the sea of rocks. I was busy collecting the smaller ones for my car while Ryan pushed the heavy ones down toward the road, where they landed with a thud. I was worried that they might dent the van, but Ryan didn’t care. I wondered how we would lift them into the van.

Ryan slid open the van door with a push, then pressed something. I could see that the inside had been stripped down, and only the battered metal floor remained. I heard a whirring sound. A metal platform extended from the van to the desert floor. Jeff and Ryan bent down, rolling and pushing the rock onto the platform. The enormous rock slowly rose from the ground. With each additional rock, the van’s tires sank a little lower.

Under the afternoon sun, my feet were sweating inside my winter boots, and I could see three missing teeth behind Ryan’s enormous grin as he wiped sweat off his forehead. I let out a belly laugh as Jeff bent over, pouring water over his head.

The hunt was over with a little help from a wheelchair lift.