I asked Rayanne, "Hungry yet?"

"A little," she answered. "That was good, what you did with Annie."

I grimaced and said, "You heard?"

"We all did." I looked at Salina, who put her hands next to her ears and waggled them. "Don't sweat it. We're cool," Rayanne concluded.

I said, "You told me to give you slack if you fuck up. Want to know how not to fuck up?"

She nodded eagerly as she stuck her tongue out and panted.

I told her, "You're making fun of me.

She panted even harder, like Thelma did when Louise let Brad Pitt in the car.

I asked her, "I take myself too seriously sometimes, don't I?"

More nodding and panting.

"OK, your point. Let's get the serious stuff over with so we can get about the business of getting a serious tan."

This time she added bouncing in place to the nodding and panting.

"Number 1: everything goes either in a box or the truck as soon as you're finished with it. Papers especially. If you don't put it back, weigh it down. The wind comes up fast here and gets up to 70. That's MPH. Though if it gets that bad we'll stay in the truck until it blows over."

"How long does that usually take?" Rayanne asked, miming the motion of scribbling on her palm with a pencil.

"Sometimes all afternoon. Don't look so down - we've got a Scrabble game."

"You suck at Scrabble."

"By that time you'll be tired of me telling you what to do and will be glad of the opportunity to put me in my place. Number 2: get a dust mask out of the orange box for yourself, and if you don't mind get one for me and Salina too."

"Here they are," said Rayanne after rummaging for a minute.

"Keep this in your pocket all the time. Both of you. We're at almost 4000 feet here and until your body gets used to the altitude you don't want any more trouble breathing than you're going to get."

"Big dust?"

"Big dust with wind. Sometimes it blows so thick you can't see five feet in front of you. If you see a big cloud coming towards us, make sure you get your mask on pronto. And put on a hat. This stuff takes forever to get out of your hair."

"Tell me again why we wanted to come out here," said Rayanne unenthusiastically.

"Because it's harsh out here and that cuts down on the obnoxious neighbors," I replied. "Number 3 - "

"That's actually Number 4. Number 3 was 'put your mask on if a storm comes up.'" Salina tittered.

"Glad you're paying attention," I shot back. "Number 4 is Piss Clear. Drink enough water so that your pee is transparent. A gallon a day is the minimum."

"Your friend gave me a gallon and told me to drink the whole thing right now," Salina said.

"Do what she says. Kitty learned about dehydration the hard way a few years ago. Everyone does in one way or other, but let's put it off as long as we can. One of us being laid up out of action is a luxury we can't afford until more people get here. If Kitty says drink, drink."

"She doesn't like me," Salina noted morosely.

"She just takes some getting used to," I told her. "She did for me."

"She told me to stay under the shelter but I've gotta pee. Can we go back into town?"

I looked at Rayanne and rolled my eyes. "Salina, you've got the world's biggest bathroom at your doorstep. Go around the other side of the truck and let fly. We won't watch."

"I never peed outside before," Salina noted. The anxiety was back in her voice. "What, is your friend Kitty going to show me how to do that too?"

"No way," Kittyboo said as she reappeared. She and Artful had been cuddling and smooching out on the playa. "We're off to the springs." And she hopped into her RAV. "Woo-HOO!" Artful climbed in the passenger side and KB gunned the engine.

"Keep your eyes out," I cautioned. "Think you'll be back in 2 hours?"

"We'll try," Artful said, and out of sight of KB he made the age-old gesture: one hand's index finger in and out of a circle made from the other hand's thumb and forefinger.

Kittyboo drove away looking puzzled as to why the rest of us were trying to keep from breaking out laughing.

Rayanne looked at me brightly and said, "Is there a Number 5, Master?"

"Yeah. Get used to having pee splatter on your legs when you go squat on the playa."

"Gross," Salina muttered.

"By the time you drink the rest of that gallon and you won't care how gross it is. You'll be dying just to let it out. Rayanne, would you take Salina out and show her what to do?"

"I can figure it out myself," Salina said and stiffly marched past the Passport.

"Hey," I called to get her attention. I reached inside the truck and tossed her a roll of toilet paper. Underhanded.

"Bring the paper you use back and put it in the trash. Leave No Trace, Salina. That's Number 6." I said.

Salina said "Gross" again and continued her march out onto the playa. Rayanne embraced me and said, "Let's watch her."

"I've got a better idea. You see what those two were doing before they left?"

"They were doing some big-time macking."

"That's my idea."

"I'll bite."

"Not hard."

That night we saw a pair of headlights circling around on the playa like they were looking for something. Shortly after dawn a '78 F-150 pickup with its front bumper held on by duct tape pulled up sputtering and wheezing, and Izzy and Joan piled out. Before the day was over we'd been joined by Carrie and Peaches, who we hadn't expected, and a 2-car caravan containing Karsten, Sam and Dooj and 4 of their equally unexpected friends.

I surveyed the hodgepodge of tents and shade structures that had sprung up between our vehicles. "Well," I said to no one in particular, "what do we do now?"