July 13, 2003
"You were right—I am crazy."
"What?" Rose stopped, turning to look at Daffodil in confusion.
"I am crazy—crazy to go into the desert in the summer. And you’re crazy, too, for agreeing with me."
Rose turned back to the moonlit trail, stumbling over a rock before she caught herself. "Like you said, the best way to avoid going west is to go east. And here we are—in the desert. Not that it’s always the most pleasant place to be, at this time of year."
"No place in California is really pleasant to be at this time of year, except for the mountains and beaches."
"Well, we could have gone there, but no, you insisted upon heading east to avoid Masline. Masline is a small town—we could have gone around it."
"Maybe. But you agreed to my hare-brained idea."
Rose stopped again, looking offended for a moment. Then she laughed.
"Maybe we are crazy. Maybe we shouldn’t have come here. But we’re here now, and we haven’t had any real mishaps yet. We may be crazy, but we’re not stupid."
A big rig rumbled by on the freeway about a hundred yards away, followed quickly by the sound of several cars moving swiftly along the night-shrouded road. A screen of brush shielded them from the road, allowing them to walk safely without being noticed. The moon, high overhead, cast its dim light upon them, allowing just enough visibility to travel.
After leaving their camp in the mountain chaparral, they had taken to the highway through the mountains, soon hitching a ride with an elderly couple on the way to their desert home in Borrego Springs. They had taken the young women as far as the market in the small desert town and dropped them off, trusting them enough to give them a ride, but not enough to show them where they lived.
It had been mid-afternoon, so Rose and Daffodil had slowly made the rounds of the businesses in the shopping center, trying to stay cool. When the sun had begun to sink low in the sky, they had resumed their trek on foot, sweating in the still-warm desert air. They had tried to hitch another ride, but when that proved unsuccessful, they had gotten water at a gas station and headed out of town near sunset, finding an abandoned, brush-enshrouded building to stay in. After resting through the next day, they had set out on foot along the wandering desert trails at night, careful to stay near enough to the road to find towns where they could get water.
That had been a week ago. Although they still tried to hitchhike in the early evening and early morning, they had been unsuccessful, so their night treks continued. During the heat of the daylight hours, they sought shelter in any place they could find—abandoned buildings, rock overhangs, and even a campground heavily shaded by tamarisks the second day out.
The third day out, Rose had awakened in mid-afternoon to find herself face-to-face with a rattlesnake who had sought shelter under the same rock overhang as the two women. Daffodil had awakened earlier and walked down to the palm-shaded springs to search for fresh food and hadn’t noticed Rose’s plight. She had been climbing slowly back up the hill when Rose had let loose with a scream that set the roosting birds nearby flying.
Daffodil had been so startled, she had nearly tumbled back down the hill. The snake, unable to hear Rose’s voice, had stared at her for a moment, and then, deciding that the cowering woman was neither threat nor prey, had slithered away.
Dropping her bag of dates and cattail roots, Daffodil had raced up the hill, wondering what could be wrong. She had found Rose perched on top of the rock overhang, mumbling almost hysterically about rattlesnakes in her bed.
Daffodil had been very concerned at first, worried that Rose had been bitten, but when Rose calmed down and assured her that she was fine, she had burst into uproarious laughter, amused at Rose’s reaction to an animal that couldn’t hear her.
Rose had not been amused, and had said as much, but the incident had taught her an important lesson. After that, she always checked carefully for snakes or other creatures before settling down to rest.
Nevertheless, in spite of the heat, dryness, and hazards of the desert, Rose was enjoying the adventure. Daffodil had had her fill of desert travel in the summer, but she had long known the freedom that Rose was only beginning to experience. For Rose, everything was new and amazing, each day a new adventure to be savored.
Traveling through the desert, with no one to tell her what to do or where to go, Rose felt gloriously alive, something she hadn’t felt in far too long.