28. The Uber arrived earlier than expected

The Uber arrived earlier than expected, its headlights cutting through the morning haze. Ted and Russell were already waiting at the gate, where the sign “The Ranch at Death Valley” loomed overhead. Ted’s eyes lingered on the words. It was more than a name to him—it was a labyrinth of meaning. The first part, “The Ranch,” echoed in his mind not as a proper noun, but as something small, a mere ranch, stripped of its grandeur. The second part, “Death Valley,” weighed heavier. Death. For whom? The valley seemed to murmur questions that Ted couldn’t silence.

He turned to Russell, who swayed slightly on his feet, his exhaustion evident in the slump of his shoulders and his half-lidded eyes. “Poor Russell,” Ted thought, his heart swelling with a mix of affection and guilt. This wasn’t fair to him.

The Uber pulled up smoothly, and the two brothers climbed in from opposite sides of the sedan. Russell barely buckled his seatbelt before he leaned his head back and drifted into soft snores, the rhythm almost childlike in its innocence. Ted glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Let him sleep, he thought. If nothing else, this brief reprieve might shield Russell from the storm of worry swirling inside Ted’s mind.

As the car began to glide down the highway, Ted’s thoughts became a relentless tide, pulling him deeper into questions he couldn’t answer. Is Gramps okay? The call from the clinic had been curt, urgent, and its weight pressed heavily on his chest. His father’s absence loomed like a shadow. Why hasn’t Dad come to see Gramps? He couldn’t shake the thought that this rift between father and son might be breaking Gramps’ spirit more than any physical ailment.

The world outside the window blurred into muted browns and grays as the desert stretched endlessly, indifferent to the human anxieties playing out within the car. Ted shifted in his seat, feeling the minutes drag like hours. He leaned forward and addressed the driver, his voice tight but polite. “Could you drive a little faster, please? It’s urgent.”

The driver nodded, his face understanding, and pressed the accelerator slightly. Ted sank back into his seat, gripping his phone in one hand as if it might offer answers or comfort. But all it held were silence and unanswered questions. He glanced at Russell again, still softly snoring, and felt a pang of gratitude for his brother’s presence. In this moment, amidst the uncertainty and the weight of looming decisions, Russell’s quiet companionship was the one thing that felt certain, the one anchor keeping Ted from being swept away entirely.