July 5, 2003
Rose stretched lazily, opening her eyes and squinting at the bright sunlight penetrating her nest of blankets under a manzanita bush. Sitting up, she looked across the small clearing, seeing that Daffodil was already up and dressed, eating a slice of watermelon and reading a book she had found in a pile of trash. Rose shook her head, still marveling at the casual way Daffodil lived on the edge of civilization.
Noticing the movement in the bushes, Daffodil looked up from her book. "About time you woke up," she remarked. "I thought you were going to sleep all day."
"What time is it anyway?" Rose asked, crawling out of her bedroll and standing up, picking a few leaves from her hair.
"Mid-morning or thereabouts. I’m surprised you could stay in that bedroll in this heat."
"It isn’t so bad in the shade. Anyway, I was tired. It must have been past midnight when we left town. I’ve gotten used to going to bed earlier."
"We did well, though. The tourists loved us—at least, they loved you.” Daffodil scowled slightly. “Actually, I think the locals did, too, even if we did have to change streets a couple of times."
"I never thought we needed a permit to sing and dance."
"We don’t. The problem was, we were blocking the sidewalk the first time, and we were on private property the second time. But it still worked out. People were actually upset when we were asked to leave, and some of them followed us to our new locations. Anyway, we found that empty lot in the middle of town, so people could see us."
"I always thought that passing the hat was just an expression, but your hat got pretty full by the end of the night. It almost makes me wish that I had my hat, too."
"People loved watching you. You have a real talent—what my theater arts professor referred to as energy. There’s just something about you that makes people want to watch. Of course, it helps that you can sing. You’re much better at the national anthem than I am—I can’t hit the high notes."
"I noticed. You squeak, and your voice cracks..."
Daffodil gave her an annoyed look. "Why do you think I stopped singing it after a while and just let you sing? You have a great range, while I, on the other hand, can carry a tune, but not much else.”
After hearing Daffodil attempt to sing, Rose didn’t think she could even carry a tune. “We made more after you stopped singing.”
Daffodil shrugged, looking unconvinced. “I think I did okay. That one guy gave me five dollars when we left his property.”
“A small price to pay for a little peace and quiet.”
Daffodil turned to glare at Rose. “You’re sure bitchy this morning.”
“I’m just being honest. I mean, didn’t you notice when that German shepherd tried to howl along with you?”
“Just because that lady couldn’t control her dog…” Daffodil shook her head, then gave Rose a smug look. “Oh, say can you see—“
A flock of birds took flight from the nearby bushes, squawking. Rose winced. “Daffodil. Please. Don’t. Sing.”
Daffodil just glared at Rose. “Like I was saying, it was fine for the performing we were doing, but I don’t think I could ever be a professional singer. You could, if you wanted."
Rose wisely decided to stop arguing over Daffodil’s singing ability, or lack thereof. "I don’t know. Maybe."
Daffodil shrugged. "It’s nothing to worry about. Just take things as they come."
"I’ve learned to do that lately."
"Oh, by the way, I counted the money and divided it between us. I got a penny more than you did, but I figure I’m entitled to it, since it was my hat that we passed around. We each got about forty dollars and some change."
Rose raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That’s a lot of money for what we were doing. It’s almost as much as we’ve made in the past few days—and it’s a lot easier to sing and dance than to wash cars and do yard work."
Daffodil raised an eyebrow. "I guess you don’t suffer much from stage fright. It’s taken me years to get past the stage fright enough to perform, but the fun of performing is such that I made myself keep doing it. You never get anywhere by quitting."
Rose clamped her mouth shut to keep herself from saying that quitting singing might be in Daffodil’s best interest. Instead, she finally answered, "I know. Of course, quitting is sometimes the best thing you can do if you don’t like the direction you’re going in…" She couldn’t resist adding, “…or if something isn’t working for you.”
"Yeah, that’s true, but I’ve always hated quitting at anything. It’s a matter of pride to finish whatever I start."
"It’s no wonder you’ve done so many things. You don’t give up."
"No, I don’t. Not until I think I’ve finished—or I get chased away." She smirked at Rose, taking another bite of her watermelon. "Want some?"
Rose looked at the watermelon suspiciously. "Where did you get it?"
Daffodil shrugged. "A tourist gave it to me, saying that she really enjoyed your performance, but didn’t have any cash on hand. I checked it before I tried eating it. It’s fully ripe, and it hasn’t been contaminated. She gave it to us whole. If you like, after the fruit is gone, I can show you how to cook the diced rind with vinegar, salt, and some cayenne. It makes good pickles that way if you cut it small enough so it doesn’t take weeks to soak up the flavors. You can use sugar, too, but I’ve never liked sweet pickles."
"Uh...okay." Rose had never considered watermelon rind to be food, but thinking about it, she did recall seeing watermelon rind pickles at the fair when she was little. She noticed that Daffodil was also picking out the seeds and saving them. "Why are you doing that? Are you planning to plant a garden?"
"Where? Here? No, the seeds are edible, too. You toast them until they’re really crisp, and then you can eat them. Actually, you can eat them raw, too, but they taste better toasted."
"Okay." Rose raised an eyebrow at her.
"Really. Lots of people eat them that way in China, and it doesn’t do them any harm."
"Well, I suppose I’ll have some, at least some of the fruit. I’m hungry. All that singing and dancing really worked up my appetite."
"It does that. Nothing like strenuous activity in the fresh air to make you hungry." Daffodil cut off a slice of watermelon and passed it to Rose. "Be sure to save the seeds and rind. Even if you don’t want them, I do."
"Sure." Rose took the fruit and the wad of money that Daffodil passed to her. Tucking the money into a pocket of her backpack, she began to eat.
"What do you want to do now?" Daffodil asked, finishing the last of her slice of watermelon and dumping the seeds into a tin pan. She set it on a rock before she began to chop the rind into little pieces.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we’ve made close to two hundred dollars in the past few days—enough to last a while if we’re careful, look for bargains, and camp out. Do you want to stay here, or go someplace else?"
"Where would we go?"
Daffodil shrugged. "Anywhere. We could stay in town for a while longer, see if we could get some more work, or we could head someplace else, see what else is out there. We can’t stay here forever. Someone will figure out that we’re vagabonds and complain. Besides, I think we’ve seen everything there is to see here. I’d like to go somewhere else, try something new."
"How would we get anywhere else?"
"Just like we got here. We walk, or we hitchhike."
"Isn’t that dangerous, especially for women?"
"It can be, but I’ve done it before. I’ve been in a few sticky situations, but I’ve never really gotten into trouble. The trick is to be careful who you get a ride with. If your gut instinct tells you they’re dangerous, just wave them on. If they persist, go the other way, or get away from the road, somewhere that they can’t pursue you. I’ve found that riding with truckers and families is the safest, but you never know who you’re going to meet, or what’s going to happen. Most people won’t hurt you, and we’ll be safer traveling together than alone. Two women are harder to overcome than one, and most people who would hurt you don’t want unfriendly witnesses. We’re strong; we can take care of ourselves."
It could be dangerous, and Rose knew it, but her sense of adventure was roused by Daffodil’s words. She remembered that Jack had told her that he had sometimes hitchhiked from place to place. If he could do it, why not her? It would be an adventure.
"Where should we try to go?"
"Anywhere. We’ll just go wherever the spirit moves us."
"Anywhere except Masline. I’m not going back there."
Daffodil looked at Rose understandingly. "Not now, anyway."
"Not ever, if I have any say in the matter."
"Never is a long time, as my dad says. But we’ll stay away from Masline, at least for now. Of course, the best way to make sure we don’t wind up there is to head in the opposite direction—east."
"Into the desert? In the summer? Are you crazy?"
"Probably." Daffodil shrugged. "If we have to walk, we’ll do it from late evening to early morning, and then find someplace to stay out of the sun. We’ll think of something."
"What about water? I doubt we’ll find much of it in the desert."
"You’d be surprised what you can find if you look. But we can stock up on water in the towns. If we stay in the western desert, there are plenty of towns, and it isn’t quite as hot as farther east. And if we don’t like it there, we can go north. The Sierras are only a few hundred miles away."
"Great." Rose handed her seeds and rind to Daffodil. "I’ll bite, though. Let’s do it."
"Desert summer, here we come. But let’s wait until tomorrow. I want to relax for a while, and maybe go into town later to get food and water. We’ll leave early tomorrow."