First there was an hour of desert driving. The roads were surrounded by long stretches of blemished landscape. Then there were gas stations and grapefruit stands and a single patch of grass.
   
-What does the map say? Owet asked.

-It should be a mile down this road, I said.

-This doesn't seem right.

-It should be on the left in two minutes.

-You're sure?

-That's what it says.

-I'll trust your navigation skills.

Ten minutes later we stopped at the ranger's information center and Owet went in for directions.  He came out with sunglasses on his head and his eyes aimed to the ground. He stepped into the car, turned the ignition.

-You weren't too far off, he said.

-I just followed the map. I don't understand where I misread.

- We should've taken the dirt road back there. I think that was your only mistake.     I looked at the map.

-That makes sense, I said.

We found the dirt road in five minutes. At the entrance was a sign that read: "Due to recent changes in weather conditions the Oasis Trail is now considered a moderate to strenuous hike. Hiking boots are highly recommended."

-I'm not wearing boots, I said.

-It'll be fine.

We pulled down the road. We passed trailers and battered campsites. Some of the sites were ruined, with collapsed wooden canopies and caution tape roping the perimeter.   In the parking lot, three police vehicles were parked in a line and officers were gathered beside a fence. An aged woman in chocolate ranger outfit stood with them, looking overtly grave. Owet and I stepped out of the car and she turned to us.

-Hello, she said.

-Hello.

-Have you two hiked the Oasis trail before?

-No, Owet said.

-No, I said. 

-We're asking everyone to take an alternate trail today. There was a storm a few days ago and the original trail has been obscured. Actually, there isn't much of a trail at all anymore. It's all fallen trees and boulders.

-Sure, Owet said. 

-Good, she said.

-Was it a dangerous storm? Owet asked.

-It was, she said. The valley flooded. Some people expect an aftershock-storm tonight.

We tilted back our heads and shaded our eyes. The sky was creamy blue. Far away, clouds cast ship-sized shadows.

-I want to live here, Owet said.

Then the ranger said something muffled to him. I turned around and rummaged through the trunk of the
car, putting fruit and nuts and water into a backpack.  I wanted to be efficient.

-Hey Owet, I said. You want me to pack anything for you

He didn't answer. Instead, he held up his pointer finger and refused to look at me. He was in mid-conversation with the ranger.  

-Are the officers here for the storm? he asked her.

-Actually, she said. Someone was disappeared on the mountain earlier today. There's a rescue crew searching for them right now. You'll see the crew on the mountain. They have climbing gear and helmets and emergency equipment. There might also be some helicopters buzzing around. Don't be alarmed if you see them.

-I'll try not to be, Owet said.

Her eyes scanned our faces.

-Its' a beautiful hike, she said. Enjoy it.

Owet locked the car and we moved toward a sign that read: "alternate trail."    There were other cars in the parking lot. Two of them were vans with the words "Boy Scouts of America" across the doors.

-How does someone just get lost? I asked.

-It happens, Owet said.  He said this blankly. I hated his sharp answers.

-What do you mean? I said. How often?

He ignored the question.

-Where do they go? I said. How long is it before someone is definitively lost?

He also ignored these. I think he assumed they were rhetorical.  He walked ahead of me on the trail.

-Did you notice how she used the words "was disappeared?"  he said.  They always say that.  Was disappeared.  As if it happened to them.

-I’ve never heard that before, I said.

-It’s common, he said.  Search and Rescue people have an entire lexicon.

-How would you know?

-I have an uncle who worked up in Alaska for a Rescue team.

-You have an uncle in Alaska?

-Sure.

-I didn’t even know you had an uncle.

-Of course I do.   He drank water from a bottle.  I reached out my hand. 

-I can keep the water in my backpack, I said.  So you don’t have to carry it.   He handed it to me.  We followed the trail for five minutes before the damage became noticeable. Stalks of vegetation were broken and frayed across the paths. Fist-like rocks created walkways around debris and pooled water.  I imagined rangers bent over, hoisting each rock into place, shouldering tree trunks into piles for the hiker’s convenience.

-I’ve never seen an oasis before, I said. Are there actually palm trees and waterfalls?

-There might be.

He stopped and leaned down to touch one of the fallen trees.

-I wonder what the storms are like out here? I asked.

-I don't know.

-I mean, they don't get much water here all year and then it just comes all at once and floods everything.  That seems like an unfortunate weather pattern.

-Well, I don't think the desert is really equipped to handle that much rain, he said. So any significant amount of water is probably going to ruin everything.

-I suppose. How often do you think it happens?

He turned around and glared.

-Christ, I don't know, he said. Can you stop with all the questions?

-Sorry.

-It's all right, he said. I just get tired of it some times.

-Sorry.

-I don't know the answers and it makes me feel stupid.

-Right. I understand.

I nodded obediently. Owet walked ahead. His temper had become increasingly volatile in the last year. We had been roommates for too long. Now, our conversations were only evasions of the sensitive areas.

-Look at that, he said.  

It was a lizard. He crouched down beside it. 

-That's a big one, he said. 

He took off his shirt and wrapped it around his head like
a turban.

-Hey, he said. It's really good to be here after a storm, isn't it?   There’s something really fresh about the smell. There isn't all that dust in the air.

-Yeah, definitely.

-Plus, it makes the path seem more new. Like it hasn’t already been trampled on a thousand times.

-That's true, I said. It's more like trailblazing.  Some day I want to hike without a trail. Just go into the woods and use a compass.

-My uncle and I used to do something like that, he said.

-Again with the uncle, I said. 

At some point, a helicopter moved overhead. We were still while it passed. Then we found a very small stream and Owet put his hands in it. I leaped to the other side and walked along a ridge onto a new path.  The two paths diverged and Owet drifted out of sight.   I waited a moment and then called his name with ridiculous fear.

-Owet! My God, I yelled. Where are you? I'm lost! I'm lost! Find me, oh find me.  He didn't respond so I forced out laughter.  The trail led up the hill to a small plateau of boulders and dry brush. It was a dead end. I had hoped it would be shortcut.   I stayed for a few minutes.  I took in the view and sat on a rock to illustrate how my time was not wasted.  Then I turned around, moved down the hill, crossed over the stream and searched for Owet.   It was ten minutes before I found him standing next to a group of people.  Some of them wore hard hats.  Some wore metal clips across their chest.  Two were rangers with radios in hand.  Owet sent me a snide look and I knew my yelling had been inappropriate.  I knew these people had all heard my little joke and were embarrassed and almost incensed.  I tried not to be ashamed. Owet listened to a ranger speaking.

-We're gonna go up this face over here, the ranger said. He might be on the other side.   The ranger turned to the woman on his right.

-What provisions did he have? he asked.

-Enough food and water for the day, she said.   He probably had enough for two days, considering he had all our food as well.

-That's good. 

-But he isn't prepared to sleep out here.

-No.

-He doesn't have any warm clothes or a sleeping bag or a tent. He has nothing but his climbing gear.

-Right.

The ranger paused and turned to Owet.

-You want to do this? he said.

-I'm sure, Owet says.

-All right then. Sern over there should be able to set you up with some accouterment. Maybe you should team up with him as well. He's a strong climber. You said you're pretty strong yourself, right?

-I've had experience.

-That's perfect.

I tried to catch Owet's eye but he didn't look over.  When the ranger turned away, I walked to him.

-Hey, I said. What are you doing?

-I'm helping. I guess some of these people were hiking with the missing person. They're low on climbers and they need help.

-Can I help? I asked.

-You can't climb, can you?

-It would be new for me.

-I guess not then. They only need experienced climbers
right now.

-And you're an experienced climber?

-I've done some climbing. I've done enough to feel confident with this face. He bent down to adjust his shoes. He was wearing his shirt again.

-So I guess the helicopters aren't finding anything? I said. 

-It doesn't look like it.

-Well, if a helicopter can't find someone then how can you?  I used a snide tone.

-I don't know. They think he may be lodged between some rocks or trapped in a cavern.

-Christ.

-That's what usually happens, he said. A man in an orange jacket motioned to Owet.

-Hold on, he said to me. I need to talk with someone.

-Ask if I can help.

-Sure.

I sat on a rock and tried to enjoy the view.  Blades of rock cut deeply into peaks. Black specks ate through dirt.  In a minute, Owet flicked my shoulder. He was covered in clinking metal pieces.

-I have to go do this, he said.
 
-What should I do?

-Hike. Don't wait for me. Go to the end of the trail. I'm sure it's beautiful.

-I'm not hiking without you, I said. That's stupid.

-It's stupid for you to wait. Just go to the oasis and come back. Don't miss it because of me.  He pulled at some rope strapped to his side. I chewed on nuts.

-So you're climbing the rest of the day? I said.

-Yeah, I think so. They need people.

-And I can't help.

-I don't think so.

I blew a petulant breath. Then I wiped the expression from my face. 

-Should I just meet you here in a few hours?

-Here or at the car.

He pushed on a piece of metal.

-Which?

He didn't answer. He was already preoccupied, gazing at the cliff, sizing up the climb.

-Which? I asked.

-If I'm not here, he said. I’m at the car.

I dug into my backpack and ate a pistachio. Then I held out one for Owet.

-You want some nuts before you climb?

-No, he said. I'm not hungry.   He reached for something on his back.

-Can you help me? he said. Can you tighten a strap?   I tightened it. Then he left. I stood up and walked
along the stream and had some petty thoughts. Some thoughts were about Owet being an inadequate climber.  I imagined him as unable to keep up with the others. I imagined him dropping some crucial rope or hook or tool of some sort and ruining the rescue attempt. Of course, I tried to dissolve these ideas but I had nothing else to think of. 

****
Soon, there were the mincing sounds of children. I looked to a small hillside and spotted six of them, in miniature ranger uniforms, climbing over smooth rocks like reptiles. I turned the corner and found the rest of the troop.  It was a parade of blood-crusted noses, yellow-stained armpits and scarves tucked into back pockets.  Some of the boys clung to walking sticks or water bottles.  They all seemed very prepared for something.  A tall clean-shaven man stood among them.  He was the chaperone.  He called out to the ones on the hillside.

- Hey, he yelled. Come on down. We have to start walking again.

-Wait, a boy yelled. There's a white “W” written on the mountain.

-A “W”?

-A white “W” on the hill.  In chalk.

The boy pointed to the adjacent hillside. I shaded my eyes and looked.  There was a jagged white “W”?

-Someone might be trying to signal to us, the boy said.  Several of the boys on the ground pointed and stared and gasped.  Two of the boys on the hillside said something to each other with serious expressions.

-I don't think anyone is signaling you, the man said.

-It's the missing person, the boy said.

-Piken, come on and stop this, the man said.  We have time constraints.

The boy laced his fingers together and put them behind his head. He half-squatted.

-It could be him, he said.

-Piken! the man yelled. There are plenty of people on the rescue squad.  I'm sure they'll see the “W” and
look into it. If it's him, they'll respond.  Now get down here before we leave without you.

-Hold on, the boy said. Give me just a second.

He slid his way through some rocks to get a better view of the “W”.

-No hold on, the man said. I'm serious.  Move it.  You're already on my bad side for sneaking off earlier today. All of you boys come down here.

The other boys started down.

-Maybe we should tell one of the rangers, the boy said.

-Okay, we'll talk to the rangers on the way out. Now let's go.

The last boy, Piken, kicked his way down the hillside.  He stopped to examine something.

-What if the person is dead? Another boy asked the man.

-He's not dead, the man said. He's only lost. People get lost all the time in the desert. 

 The man paused.

 -And that's why all of us need to stay with the group, he said.  It's very important.  Don't go running off like Piken.

-He's dead, the boy said.  I walked toward the troop and gave a cordial expression. The man noticed me.

-Hey everyone, he said. Move out of the way. Someone needs to pass.  They moved.

-Thank you, I said

As I was leaving, I heard the man scolding the boy.

Once, I had been in a boy scout program. It lasted  six months. One of the boys in my troop had grown up
in some mountain town and could catch rabbits with his hands, rip them apart, cook them and eat them. There was nothing envious about this skill but I seem to remember it being the reason I left the troop. My most distinct memory is the moment when I learned of his unique abilities. 

****
The path came to a narrow point, a place where the rangers had failed to clear the detritus. It was too small for feet so people had been creating their own trail, an arch of footsteps projecting into the hillside. I followed it and imagined rattlesnakes tearing at my ankles.  In another thirty minutes, I found the oasis. The trail led right to it. There was nowhere else to go.  The stream I had been following emptied into a complex waterfall and a gathering of palm tress. Some of the trees had fallen from the storm but most stood in a perfect ellipse.   I sat on a shaded rock and pulled out my lunch. People were dispersed throughout the area.  A father and son sat beside a pool of water. A young couple reclined against each other and drank something blue from a blue bottle. Their voices were loud.  

-Look, the young man said.  He pointed to a rock formation, at two climbing men.  

-You think they're part of the rescue crew? The girl asked.

-I think so, he said.   I tried to see if one of the climbers was Owet. There was no way to tell.

-How often you think these types of missions are successful? the man said.

-It can't be often, the girl said. It seems like everyday that I pick up the paper and there's an article about two hikers finding a dead body. 

-It does seem like that, the man said.

-Can you imagine stumbling across something like that?

She looked at him with big eyes.

-It'd be a nightmare, he said.

-It would.  But it could be satisfying.  It has to be.   That's why Search and Rescue do what they do.

- Or maybe they're doing it out of the goodness of their hearts, he said. 

-I don't think so, she said. Think how satisfied you are when you find your keys. Now imagine finding a human being.

-It'd be exciting to find a person if you're looking for a person, but if you're not-looking for a person, if you're just on a hike and you trip over a corpse, I imagine it'd be devastating.

-Maybe for some people, but not me.  I'm always looking for dead bodies.

-That's an attractive thing to say.

-It's true. Every time I go anywhere I'm always investigating.

-Ever find anything?

-When I was eleven I found my mother's ring. It took me two weeks of intensive detective work and I found it behind the dryer.

-Good work on that.

-I thought so. She gave me twenty dollars. 

While they talked, I chewed on dried apricots and watched the climbers move out of my vision. They looked like army figurines. They looked like fragile wire men. I imagined Owet scaling rocks. I wondered about the conversations between him and his climbing partner. There would be serious conversations about past-climbing experience, then the conversations about work, then some tangent. Or there would be no talking at all. Owet would wear his reverent expression of solemnity. The other climber would only say the necessary things. He would make polite commands. They would talk only of the task at hand.

I heard the man say something to the woman about sunlight and rain. I watched him wave his hand with the hillside's contour.

-This trail was a lot better before the storm, he said. 

-Definitely, the woman said. Half the oasis is gone.   I turned around and imagined an oasis twice the size of the one before me. The man stood up, stretched his arms and legs, rotated his head.

-More than half, he said.

Then my mind began to drift. I thought about what I needed to do when I went home. I thought about how much time I would have between arriving at the apartment and falling asleep.

I looked to the father and son again. They were squatted beside a rock and the father drew his words in the air. The son seemed to be all ears.

****
On the way back, I stopped at the spot where I had left Owet. There was a ranger on a rock twirling a radio through his fingers.  

-Do you know Owet?

-Owet?

-He went climbing a little while ago with the rescue team.

-I don't know him.

-Could you contact someone? I'm looking for him.  

He looked up at me.

-His name is Owet?

-Owet.

The man held the radio to his mouth.

-Hey, Sern, is there anyone named Owet with you?  We waited a moment. Then there was a response. It was all static.

-Reception's not very good up here, the ranger said.

I left the man and walked quickly. The air had become unwelcoming and viscous in all the wrong moments.  I put my hands into pockets and rubbed them against the outsides of my  thighs. There was a receipt in the left pocket. It was the remnant of last night's dinner, where Owet and I had stopped before the campsite. He had spread a map across the table and borrowed one of my pens to track our progress. His body had loomed across the table and his arms had dragged along the highways and into the desert. The
people who sat beside us sent terrible looks. The map had been a loud one.   I walked the rest of the way alone. I was not behind or ahead of other hikers, my mind rushed; it moved at the speed of my legs.  At some point, I sneezed with my entire body. I  thought about Owet and hoped that he was unsuccessful.

I didn't want to deal with one of his victories. I wanted him to be leaning against the car, waiting, equipped with some banal story about the beauty of the desert from a peak. Instead, I returned to an empty parking lot. The boy scout vans had left.  I sat on the trunk of Owet's car and fingered through my backpack. I still had his keys and water and his half of the food.   In a few minutes, rain was snapping against the metal of the car.  I went through the bag again and found the keys. Inside the car, I put on a sweatshirt and lay down across the back seat. The car smelled of musty bread and damp clothes. It took me five minutes to fall asleep.

****
At some point, there was a thumping. It was Owet's  fist against glass.

-Open the door, he said. The cold is painful.

I turned the handle and he pushed himself into the driver's seat. He turned around.

-I think you're on my towel, he said.

-What? I said.

I was half-asleep.

-Here, he said.

He drove a flat hand under my back and revealed a brown towel.

-There it is, he said.

His patted himself down. All of his clothing was wet and clinging to his body. For a moment, I forgot where
I was and why it was raining. I turned my head to the window and studied the landscape. It was dark, nondescript and quiet-looking.

-You seem dry, he said. 

-I got back just in time, I said.

I gazed at him for a moment. I tried to read his face, but I couldn't. Then I remembered the rescue crew and decided to ask him the question I was required to ask.

-Did you find him? I said. 

Owet took a deep sniff. He was rubbing the towel over his head, drying off his hair. Then he threw the towel onto the passenger seat and smoothed down his part. 

-What? he said. I couldn't hear you.

But I knew that he had. His expression already revealed what he was about to say.