On Monday afternoon, Carlotta slipped out of work early. She drove along cactus lined freeways, through some rocky desert. Wandering through Desert Botanical Gardens, Debbie's root beer suddenly seemed sweet and unappealing. She craved water, cold water.
"There are only two seasons here. Hot and very hot," she said.
A chipmunk with long hind legs ran around the desert plants. A sandy mountain dotted with bushes towered over the girls.
"Think anyone would go hiking up there today?" Debbie said.
A brown, rocky mountain in the distance fascinated her. She paused to photograph it. The Christmas film was still in her camera. The unexpected, temporary bank job had not allowed any time for such hobbies. Now she didn't have to worry. She had no job to return to.
Carlotta spoke of quitting the job she had hated in New York. Her father had been against it, just as Debbie's father had argued over her identical decision.
"He said, you're going to come out here; you won't get a job," Carlotta said.
Three years later, Carlotta was now being promoted to Editor of her local newspaper. Her father had not supported her journalism career either.
"You won't make much money at it," she told Debbie.
As she drove along the freeway, "Well, you've survived your first hundred degree day," she said. "Once it turns a hundred degrees, there's no going back. That's what they say," she continued on this tenth day of May.
"Where are those plastic water bottles?" Debbie asked.
"You mean, a jug filled with water."
"No, a plastic water bottle," Debbie insisted.
"They're with the soda."
Debbie walked up and down the mammoth aisles. She had removed her contact lenses, being forwarned of the desert heat. She frowned at the aisles, at the rows of blurred products.
"The ice cream," she said. "There aren't any square containers."
"What difference does it make?" Carlotta snapped.
Debbie grabbed a round container of chocolate, vanilla and strawberry. It wasn't what she really wanted but she couldn't read the other labels. At the check out, she started to unload the cart.
"No. You put it here and she unloads it," Carlotta explained.
"Oh. That makes a lot of work for the cashier."
"Well, she's going to pass them over the scanner and lift them anyway."
Debbie recalled her cashiering days and how much she hated the extra work which all of that lifting created.
The next time they visited the mammoth grocery store, she picked out a huge orange.
"You're only getting one?" Carlotta said.
Debbie picked another one and threw it into the carriage. This time, she had put in her contact lenses and was able to zip through the store and get the ordeal over with as soon as possible. She crossed certain items off the list.
They walked outside, in the bright sunlight of the parking lot. Debbie remembered not to roll down her car windows so that Carlotta could turn on the air conditioner. And not to slam the passenger door.
"Is it starting to look familiar to you?" she asked Debbie.
"Well..." Debbie said.
"I know, you really don't learn until you drive," she said.
"I recognize the bank building," Debbie said, was they passed a towering, modern office building which reflected the blue, blue Arizona sky.
"It's the easiest city in the world," Carlotta's hairdresser was saying. A sparkling Harley Davidson motorcycle stood outside his salon.
"I hope I can find a job," Debbie said.
"Bug 'em. It works. That's what my boss once told me. If you bug 'em, show up at the office and say, "Ilm not leavin', they're bound to hire ya. You been to the Mall?"
"Yeah," she said.
"Malls are fun. They're new. But unless you've got a rich daddy..."
"I have to support myself," Debbie said.
"Whoever thought of that?" he agreed.
"You won't be supportin' yourself for long. You won't be. There are lots of boys here. Lots o' boys. Did Carlotta tell you where to shop?"
"No," she said.
"I know women. I do them all day. T.J. Maxx." He explained how to walk across the street and to cross the intersection. It was the easiest city in the world. North, east, south, and west. The northwest corner of this. The Southwest corner of that.
"Now, your hair would fall like this when you get out of the pool," he said. He demonstrated the search for her natural part. Her hairdressers at home had not been able to master this.
{To the left, slightly off center} {sic}
"And you want the bangs to blend in with your natural hairline. Not to be peanut shaped." He held up a clump of her hair of top of her head. He spoke of "getting our confidence levels going with each other."
"That's a nice motorcycle. My father used to race motorcycles," she said.
"Now that's really living on the edge," he exclaimed in his Midwestern drawl. He suggested that Carlotta and Debbie go to Show Low next weekend. He was riding to a motorcycle rally.
"Show Low. It's next weekend," he said. He stepped out of his emtpy spacious salon. He pointed the way to the discount clothing stores.
UP NEXT: "FIND ME SOMETHING TO WEAR."
