About mid-morning on an otherwise everyday sort of Saturday, a week after the swimming pool attendant had made his surprise visit, I was painting a pot prior to glazing it, trying to make it look like it was spinning around. I wasn't being very successful at it. Anyone looking at the pot would feel more like he was spinning around than the pot. I was just about to give up when I heard a very small noise. It sounded vaguely human. When I looked up, I saw a silhouette on the floor. There was someone standing in the doorway. I never get visitors, and wasn't expecting one.
"Hello," I said, startled.
"Hello." The voice was hoarse, but a woman's. "May I come in?"
"You might as well. You made it this far. Yes, please do come in." I put down my brush and looked up at her. She was a young woman with brown features who looked very frightened and very tired. She was looking at me with a combination of desperation and fear, as though she were deciding whether to speak or run away. She chose speech.
"I need help. My car ran out of gas miles from here. I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm exhausted. Can I just rest somewhere?"
"Of course you can. And you must be thirsty. You get that way real fast out here. Can you make it to the house?"
"Yes," she paused, "I think so anyway."
Walking alongside her towards the house I had this feeling that along with exhaustion she seemed to have this terrible fear about her. She glanced sideways at me from time to time, then jerked her head back forward. I wondered what was wrong, what was it about me that was so frightening to her? Then I saw our shadows walking along the ground in front of us and remembered that I was naked. I had gotten so used to it, and used to nobody noticing that I was naked, including me, that I never thought of the effect it would have on other people, there never being any other people.
Now that I knew that, what was I going to do with it? I could try to give her an explanation, except that I didn't have one. I had forgotten all of the arguments I had invented for my life style. It seemed natural to me now. So I didn't say anything. It was probably the wrong decision. She would now think I was completely crazy and most likely a clear and present danger to her. A broken down vehicle in the desert far from civilization and a naked potter could be way too much all at one time. So I changed my mind and spoke.
"I work this way. I also live this way. I don't mean to offend. I'm really quite sane, and not at all dangerous, otherwise."
She didn't say anything until we reached the house and I had supplied her with a chair and water. She drank two large glasses of it without pause. Then she did pause, and looked once more at me.
"It's OK. You're being naked I mean. I'm just not used to it. I mean, I've never seen it before. But I suppose out here there isn't anybody to see you. I mean, it's your home, you can do what you like. I mean, it's OK."
Her voice trailed off at the end. It was as though she thought she had to say something and couldn't think what it would be. I was not offended.
"Thank you. I didn't think much of the effect it would have on others.
We rested a while in the kitchen.
"So what's the next thing to do with you? Are you more tired than hungry or the other way around? We can talk about your car when you are feeling up to it. So food or sleep?"
"Tough choice," she smiled, "I choose sleep, I don't think I can stand up much longer. Then food I guess. I hope I'm not being too much of a bother."
"No, not at all. I don't feel bothered at all. I don't have that much to do that can't wait. It's quiet out here. Not much happens. I'll show you to a bedroom. We have lots of them, all empty, all with bathrooms and showers. I'm the caretaker. Can you make it up the stairs?"
"Now I can. Ten minutes ago I wouldn't have been so sure. Are you sure you want to do this?"
She was making very slow progress up the stairs. I wished then that I had put her in the other bedroom on the first floor, or that I had thought to suggest a couch. I realized also that she wasn't thinking all that clearly right now. She needed rest, and reassurance.
"What a question! Of course I'm sure. I don't have to ask permission from anyone if that's what you mean. Take this one, it's the closest."
I pushed her gently through the doorway and walked in after her. She turned and looked at me.
"There are towels and such in the bathroom. I think everything is clean. Nobody's been in the room since the owners visited a couple of weeks ago." I realized that I was not making much sense, so I waved at the bathroom and left. The hired help had cleaned the room when the owners left, and I had inspected it. It should be OK. I don't get very excited about housekeeping. Downstairs, after thinking it over for a minute or two, I decided I could just go back to the workshop. She didn't need protection and neither did the house.
I went back to the house for lunch a little earlier than usual. I wanted to be there when my new guest woke up from her sleep. She looked so exhausted that I wondered if she had walked all night long. And by being early I could have some lunch ready for her. I thought I had some ham in the freezer and I knew I had bread. She probably wouldn't be very picky. I made the sandwich, put out a banana and waited.
She didn't come down until almost three o'clock. I heard footsteps on the staircase. Very slow footsteps. My guest appeared in the doorway and I waved her to a seat at the kitchen table.
"How does a ham sandwich sound?"
"Like heaven." She sat down. "I almost can't walk. I walked all night. The car ran out of gas west of town. I walked towards town, but I don't have any money and couldn't think what to do, so when I finally got there, I didn't stop. I just kept walking, walking nowhere, down the road. I don't know what I expected to find, I wasn't even hoping for anything. I was just walking.
"When the sun came up, I knew I would have to find something or I would surely die out here. So I made up my mind to stop the first human I saw and beg for help. Then I came to your gate. Your driveway is so long, I didn't think I would make it to the house. Nobody answered the door. I waited and waited. Then I thought to look around. The gate was unlocked. Nobody who has a house like this keeps the gate unlocked. Someone must be here. I walked into the garage where I found you."
Tears were running down her face and she was shaking. Having not the earthliest idea what else to do, I suggested the sandwich on the plate in front of her. "Try this. You must be hungry. You're going to be all right. You're safe here."
She drank half a glass of water and started on the sandwich. I refilled her glass and added a couple of ice cubes. I don't think she noticed.
"Now the banana. You need the sugar. And once you feel like it, you can tell me your name."
She ate the banana. Then, "I'm sorry. It's Rose. Actually Rosemary, but I never liked that name. Just Rose. I'm babbling. I'm sorry."
She was crying again, and shaking again. We were silent for a while and then the food started to have an effect. When she stopped crying I suggested we go into the parlor.
I don't know why I thought that was a good idea. I never use the parlor and like everything else in the desert it has a thin layer of sand on all the surfaces. Rose didn't seem to mind, or notice. I suggested one of the ceremonial stuffed chairs and then dragged another one close enough for us to talk to each other without shouting.
"Rose, my name is Claire. I am the caretaker on this estate and I live here. I've lived here for about six months. I live alone and make pots. Except for what you have already noticed, I'm sane and pretty normal. Now tell me about you, and how you got into your current situation. Then in a little while we'll see what's to be done with your car."
"My name is Rose Mary Klein. I got called Rosemary a lot as a child. I think it was intentional. I didn't like it. I like Rose. I'm twenty- three years old.
"I left home after high school, and ran off to Phoenix to make my fortune. I'm an artist. That is, I paint. Pictures. When I can. It doesn't pay. So I work at whatever I can find to stay alive, and hopefully, maybe, to paint."
"I had no art training outside of high school art, but I just couldn't take any more of the college future my parents planed for me. They wouldn't cooperate or be reasonable so I just left."
There was a hint of self-deprecation in her voice and a dour look on her face.
"That didn't work out very well. All I succeeded at in Phoenix was starving. To have a place to live, I took a job waitressing in a pizza and beer joint. I lived in what is called in the literature a hovel, hand to mouth.
"I got paid on Fridays and was allowed to leave work to go to the bank to cash my paycheck before the bank closed so I could pay rent in cash for the next week that same day. But I was unfortunate enough to be seen receiving my check, taking off my apron and immediately leaving.
"This was too good an opportunity for someone in the pizza parlor at the time. He must have followed me to the bank and then to my hovel where he watched me pay the landlady in cash and return to the pizza parlor. He waited on the sidewalk until the pizza parlor closed at 10 PM. I left at 10:30.
"He robbed me one block away from the pizza parlor. The police were very sorry, but they couldn't do anything. I went a week without any money at all.
"It was just too much. I couldn't take it any more. I had a friend in Tucson who said she would help me get something there.
"So when I got paid the next Friday, I cashed the check, paid off the people I had borrowed from and left town for Tucson that afternoon. I didn't have much money, just enough to fill the car with gas. I hoped I could get to Tucson on a single tank of gas. I couldn't, as you see. I pulled off the highway at the Santa Ingratia exit. It was dark. I didn't know what I was going to do. I had to have gas. I didn't even make it to town. So I left the car and walked. Why would anyone want to rob me? I'm not rich."
"Maybe he was desperate. People get desperate, you know. You were one of them once. What about you? How close were you to robbery when you walked into my workshop?"
I smiled at that, then wished I hadn't said it.
"I was desperate all right, but I wasn't thinking of robbery. I might have stolen money, I guess, but more likely food or especially water."
"I'm sorry I said anything. Really I am. That was thoughtless."
"It was robbery, by the way. He had a knife. I had to watch him look through all my things. But all he wanted was my money."
"I'll bet he was a drug addict. They get pretty wild when they run out of drugs."
Later on that evening we set forth with a can of gas to rescue her car. I brought booster cables just in case, but they weren't needed. Her car started at once. She got out and came over to me.
"Thanks for the lift and the help. I don't know what would have happened to me if you hadn't helped. I probably owe you my life. I don't know when I can repay you, but I will, I promise."
"You don't owe me anything, but it was a good thing you stopped. There isn't much of anything that I know of past the castle for many miles. But do you have to go right away? Stay a few days at the castle and rest up. Do you have time for that?"
She shook her head. "Oh, no, I really couldn't." Then she stopped, looked intently at me, then said slowly, "Yes, I have time." She smiled a very small smile which I later on took as sardonic. "I am only vaguely expected, and not especially welcome in Tucson. If your offer is serious, I'll stay, at least for a little while."
"I don't make offers that aren't serious. You are welcome. I'll explain later just how welcome you might be."
She followed me back to the castle. She settled in the bedroom she had used before.
Breakfast is pretty simple in the castle, especially when I'm the cook. Coffee and cereal and fruit are just about it. I was having mine as usual on the east-facing patio just off of the kitchen. That idea was one of the few good ones the architect had. Vines in pots around the edges grew over the lattice work roof. The floor was tile. A table and a couple of chairs gave me a place to drink my coffee, eat my cereal, look at the mountains, and think of how lucky I was to live here, puttering and potting in turn, all by myself.
Then I remembered I wasn't quite by myself.
"Help yourself," I shouted through the patio door when I heard her moving around in the kitchen. "It's the only way you'll ever get anything to eat around here. We'll go to town for food later."
She came to the door, looked the situation over, and retreated. A couple of minutes later she re-appeared equipped with coffee and cereal and sat down in the other chair.
"I'm sorry I can't pay for this. But thank you."
"Stop all that. You have a lot to learn about this place. First tell me the story of your life. And how did you sleep? I'll find out later what kind of cereal you like, and fruit. You can pick it out when we go to town."
"Gosh, all of that. Where do I start? What's the most important?"
"Probably breakfast.