Playa Dust in the Bedouin

"Hey there, man candy. I am about spent." Tim came up beside me and bumped my hip. "I'm heading back to camp to clean up and pass out. If you would chase Jim back that way here in a few. He promised to make me his world famous Indian Butter Curry Chicken tonight, and if he doesn't I'm going to have a serious tushy-tantrum."

Rubbing at my eyebrows, I just nodded that I would.

I watched him wheel away on his hoverboard thing, then noticed that a few others were starting to drift away, or peddle off back towards camp as well. Looking around, I saw the signs of exhaustion in the others that I was not yet feeling myself.

Kimberly must have seen it as well.

"Okay people. Lets get out of the sun and take a long break." She clapped her hands. "Anyone who wants to help me with testing the lighting on the bottom section can come back when the sun starts to go down." She flashed everyone a smile. "Otherwise, lets try to get an earlier start tomorrow, if we can. With hope we may finish. We already have the bottom assembly finished, the second section is nearly done, and with some luck the top will be ready to lift it into place by the end of the day tomorrow. And ... maybe ... we will even have it full lighted by the end of tomorrow night."

Everyone gave a cheer. A few people moved over to her to talk about when she wanted to get together to do lighting later.

Walking over to where I had left my shirt and walking stick. Unwrapping my head, I shook out my shemagh scarf and then used it as a towel to brush away the playa dust and sawdust off my chest and arms. A hand on my back turned my head.

Olivia smiled at me. "I'm heading back. Want to walk with me?"

"Sure."

Pulling on my shirt, I wrapped the damp dirty scarf around my waist like a sash. My hat I sat on Olivia's head and we started back to camp.

"I had fun today," she said after a few minutes of silence. She looked up at me from under the wide brim. "How about you?"

"Yes." I glanced back at our three-section wooden project. "For the most part ... today was pretty good."

We walked a bit further in silence then she again tried to break it.

Olivia tilted back the hat. "So ... about this morning ..."

"Yes, kissing you was one of the good parts."

She stopped, and stamped her foot making a dust cloud. "Not that!"

I chuckled. Coming to a stop, I leaned on my walking stick. "Alright, spill it."

"What?" she asked.

I looked at the sunlight blazing down on Black Rock City. The many colors of tents, RV's, tarps, Vans, banners, signage were starting to form a kind of modern art in its own right. "You're upset about this morning. Let me guess, it was me walking off. Right?"

"Yes!"

Looking down at my hand, I felt the hard work in places. There weren't any blisters, too many old calluses for that to form easily, but my hands were sore. I flexed the fingers savoring the pain.

"John?"

I looked up into her eyes. "Olivia, you keep asking me to talk to you. Okay. Here I go. I'm doing the best I can with a bad mental situation. Ninety percent of the time, I'm as good as I get. But the rest of the time I have bad days." My fingers tightened around the walking stick till my sore hands burned. "Sometimes very bad days. They can hit me suddenly. And there is nothing I can do to predict when they happen, or stop them when they do."

"Why not ask for help when that happens?" she asked, not understanding.

I shook my head. "When I'm having one of those I have to ... get away. I don't want help. I don't want to talk." Turning away from her, I looked off towards the Temple. "Hell, about all I want to do is stand on the top of a mountain and scream profanity at Heaven for ever having been born."

I felt her hand on my elbow. Looking down at my sister, I saw that Olivia was on the edge of tears. Putting an arm around her, I pulled her in to me. "Come on, let go get cleaned up and maybe see about something for a very late lunch. I'm good, for now. Make the best of it."

Holding her to me we started walking again.

"So what happened this morning?" She trailed a bit and her hip bumped mine. "I mean when you woke up you sure weren't depressed."

I grinned. "It would take a lot more than PTSD to make waking up naked lying next to a sexy lady to be depressing."

She stopped in her tracks. "We weren't naked!"

"Well, I sure was." Placing both hands on my walking stick, I stood there holding back a shit eating grin. I had been hoping this would come up all day.

My sister shook her head. "You were not naked! You had on boxer shorts, I saw them."

"No, I put those on after you got up and left."

Oh, the color that rushed across her face.

Olivia was almost screaming now. "You let me sleep next to you when you were naked! You were spooned up against me! Naked!"

With a shrug I couldn't deny that. "I kept the sheet between us."

My sister took my hat off her head and began to beat me with it. Laughing, fending her off, I retreated from the fury of a sister spooned.

"John! I ought to beat you within a inch of your life!" She threw my hat at me and stormed off towards camp.

Laughing, I grabbed up my hat out the dust and followed.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

The spice level in whatever it was that Jim was cooking was off the scale. And I like hot food. Simply the smell of it when I walked into the tent set my eyes to watering.

Walking through the curtains into my sleeping area, I stripped and went through four of the big size wet wipes to get the sweat and dust off of me. Some simple gray-black "tiger stripe" camo cargo shorts and a loose gray shirt fit my mood perfectly. Stepping back out, I saw that Olivia had changed into something clean, and - like most of her outfits so far -- it showed more than a little skin. Fishnets, a bikini top, and gold shorts that would make a Hooter's Girl blush.

And she wants to bitch about me being naked?

Jim, Linda, and Bill were putting together Cuban sandwiches on the folding table. I looked about for the others but they were either behind their curtained-off section, maybe taking a nap, or had perhaps headed out into town. If that was what they had in mind, I envied them their energy. The nap sounded good to me. Mind you there was a dry oven-like heat that even this tent could not get rid of entirely. Well, not without rolling up the sides. Which I was loath to do in a place as full of powdery dust as this lake bed.

"Fix me a sandwich," Olivia asked, then at my look said "Please?"

I smiled. "As you wish."

My sister rolled her eyes and went to her folding chair, sitting down in a huff.

Jim glanced up when I joined then at the long table. "How are we doing for water?"

That seemed like an odd question this early in the week. "We're good, hardly made a dent in the big tank in the trailer. Why?"

He pointed at the large cooler nearby. "The gallon ones in there are going a bit quicker than I thought they might, but then this is a desert and it's hot as fuck! Cold water is always a blessing."

"True, so very true." Linda looked up from the food. "I feel like I could drink forever and never get the dust out of my mouth." She giggled. "I have come to Burning Man and tasted him."

Jim looked up from his cooking. "Speaking of cold. The YETI will keep ice till ... oh, probably till tomorrow. Then we will definitely need more ice."

I nodded. "I'll get us round one, but if anyone is going past the Center Camp - on your way back here -- after tomorrow, it might not be a bad idea to grab the odd bag, now and then."

Everyone nodded in agreement, then went back to what they were doing.

I was in the middle of eating a second sandwich when Tim came rolling back into the tent on his One Wheel. He popped his goggles up and pulled down his mask. "Um, guys not to be a nervous Nelly, but I think the Apocalypse is coming towards us."

Frowning, I handed Olivia the stacked plate and then went out to see what he was talking about.

The wall of white dust that was engulfing the other side of this crazy city would have been impressive to anyone that had never seen one of the massive "haboob" storms of boiling dust coming across the deserts of the Middle East. And, to be honest, even given that ... it was impressive to see in its own right. It swallowed tent after tent and RV after RV as it rolled forward.

After a long second of watching it, I had to agree with Tim. It was coming right at us.

Stepping back inside, I pointed to the other end of the tent. "Those two poles there ..." I placed my hand on the one next to me. " ... and these two poles here. We need to drop them. Like this."

Picking up the heavy canvas, I leaned the thick wooden pole inward and brought that side of the Bedouin down till it touched the ground. Once it touched, I used the tent pole to pin it to the ground. Looking behind me I saw that Bill and Jim had one of them and Oliva and Tim had the other. Linda had moved to the one next to me. I nodded when she lowered it like mine.

"It won't keep out all of the dust, but it will help. If we were setup in a sand desert the storm would bury the outside edge and that would help a lot." I shrugged. "It is what it is. Anything that might get ruined by dust ... well, it probably shouldn't be here anyway, but let's get it under cover."

"The food!"

We were in the middle of stuffing the sandwich makings back into the coolers and Rubbermaids when the first of the heavy winds hit the side of the tent. The big canvas tent seemed to almost roll under the force and then, like a wave, fall right back into place. Swaying on its poles like a tree's leaf canopy.

Soon trickles of dust were puffing in under the edges. They made the inside hazy. I pulled up my mask, chewing the last bite of my second sandwich behind that thin cloth. I looked around. Everyone seemed tense, looking up at the tent.

"Don't worry. It's road through far far worse than this." I saw a few nodded heads. I quirked an eyebrow when my sister went over to the edge and looked out into the dust storm, letting in twice as much powder at the same time.

"Wow! I can't even see your truck. Hey!" She looked back in at all of us. "There are people walking around out there in it." I saw the grin in Olivia's eyes. "I'm going out. Who's with me?"

"Not, me, and don't get lost."

She walked over the few steps and poked me in the chest. "Participation! Participate!"

I shook my head. "I spent the day doing that, already. I'm going to bed to take an afternoon nap. Given the drumming and thumping last night - and the fact more people have been arriving all day - I'm pretty sure I won't get much sleep tonight." I gestured at her with the back of my hands. "Go if you're going. You're letting in dust."

My sister gave a frump. "Well, I am. Anyone?"

Tim almost bounced. "Me." He gave Jim a peck on the cheek. "If I don't make it back, try and find my body. And remember, hun, I want to be cremated and my ashes added to a pot of spicy chili."

Olivia and Tim disappeared into the dust about a foot out of the door.

With a shrug for insanity, I headed to my bed. It was calling my name like a lover.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Sleeping with my shemagh scarf across my face had once been an everyday thing for me. Now it felt smothering, but as my eyes slowly opened and I took in the layer of white dust on the bed beside me I was glad that I had. Sitting up the dust drifted off of me to the floor.

The inside of the tent was stifling.

Standing up, I took the time to pull on my shorts, then walked out into the common area. I saw that Kathrine and Gloria were sitting together by the table, talking in low voices. They glanced up as I entered.

"Storm over?" At their nods, I pointed to the ends of the Bedouin. "Let's open her back up then. Let the breeze take some of this dust and heat out."

With their help, it took almost no time to stand back up the four end poles and roll up the darker canvas panels. The cool air that came in was still oven hot, but it was several degrees cooler than the stale air inside. Looking out, seeing the sun easing towards the horizon, I realized just how long I had slept. I watched a group of people ride by on bicycles, which brought to mind the fact I hadn't even gotten mine out of the truck yet.

All around us, people were gearing up for a long night of party hopping. Music was already rising from a dozen places. In the distance, I saw a column of orange fire burst forth and rise into the sky as someone tested a pyro effect of some type.

"You going out tonight, John? You should."

Looking over my shoulder, I saw that Kathrine was standing there holding out a cold beer to me. I looked at it for a second then up at her face. There didn't seem to be any hidden test behind those eyes, but then she had played so many games with me years ago.

I eyed the label. "It's not my brand."

She smiled. "It's cold. It's wet. It's beer."

Nodding agreement to that, I took it and popped the top on the bottle, pocketing the metal cap by habit. It spilled across my tongue icy and delicious. "Offering alcohol to a man who once had a problem with alcohol. Any particular reason?"

She shook her head. "No particular reason. To get you to relax, maybe." With a small smile, she looked past me out into the city. "This is a good place for people like us. Ones that saw the horrors that humanity can create and the ones that dealt with the aftermath. The wonder and glam of all this; while still being tough and taxing to the body is a good thing."

"Could do without the fireworks."

She gave a shrug. "Call it hard-knocks therapy. Now..." Kathrine stepped back, caught the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it up over her head. Rather large breasts, topped with wine-dark nipples dropped out into view. "I'm going out topless because I can. Have a fun night."

Blinking, I stood there for several moments after she walked past me.

With a shake of my head, I swallowed the rest of the beer in a long gulp and then decided I wanted a second one ... of my brand. Grabbing my belt, cup, and walking stick I headed for the bar of Robert the Pirate. Pausing by the truck, I grabbed a second walking stick from behind the seat to gift to him.

Besides, being mildly drunk might help me with the fireworks. It used to help with the gunfire, after all.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

With a belly full of Guinness beer and way too many corn dogs, I wished Robert a good night and then took to wandering the playa. My hat had been pulled off my head, a set of battery LED lights clipped all around it by a lovely young woman so I was now a walking lighted head in the darkness.

I stood for I don't know how long watching a metal octopus shoot fire. Mesmerizing.

Maybe it was the power of the place, the light show, or the huge numbers that were gathering around it, but I found my feet carrying me to the party around Mayan Warrior. By then I was more than a little buzzed, but not really drunk.

A lady in nothing but body paint with a bottle of ... I don't know what the fuck I drank, but damn it was good ... took care of that problem. For the next hour, I did a semblance of dancing. More a drunken sway to the music but everyone else seemed to be doing more or less the same thing.

Feeling a tug on my belt, I followed a lady with lighted fairy wings away from the party.

Then she kissed me.

We spent several minutes engaged in a delightfully playful exchange of lips and tongues before she pulled back enough to look at my face ... then frowned.

"Tom?"

I shook my head. "Sorry, no. I'm John."

She laughed, put a hand on my chest, gave me a cute little pat, then she kissed me one last time then vanished back into the edge of the crowd.

Mildly confused by this exchange -- I mean how often does an angel kiss you by mistake -- I shook my head to clear the alcohol fog a bit and turned towards what I thought was the general direction of my camp. Singing along with a camp playing Simple Minds- "Don't You Forget About Me" on repeat, I let my feet carry me home. Nope, feet are drunk too it seems. It took me looking up and seeing that The Man towering over me to make me realize I was not going the right way.

I had yet to be able to get this close to him, and my eyes took in the quality of wood joinery the many lights showed me. Promising myself to come back and take a look in the sunlight tomorrow, I spun around. Orienting by the points of the clock, I finally made the right choice.

My big tent was empty when I arrived. Empty, dark, and smelling of curry chicken. I fixed the lack of light and then decided I was hungry. Then realizing I was too drunk to prepare a hot meal, sat down in my chair and ate the spicy chicken cold. It went great with Pringles, and sliced cheese. Looking down my eyes focused on the many rugs. The dust level in here needed to be addressed tomorrow. Blinking, I looked up and thought back to different times. Different dust.

Leaning over, I fished my hand around in my leather bag and pulled out a metal hip flash. I stared at the unit logo engraved on it for a moment, then unscrewed the top. I held it up.

"Here's to you guys," I whispered.

The moonshine burned. The hints of Vanilla and cane sugar were perfectly balanced with that burn. Sitting back, letting my head rest against the nylon back of the chair, listened to the music of the surrounding camps, and I thought of the many places I have been. The many places I have lived. The people I have met, the women I have known. The sunsets, the sunrises.

I thought of many many things, but every time I felt even a hint of an unwanted thought trying to ambush me, I would take another sip. And that memory would be burnt away.

Getting up, I glanced at my watch. Then I blinked a few times and tried it again.

"How the fuck is it 3:20 in the morning?"

Simply acknowledging I had lost a few hours at some point, I shrugged and decided enough was enough for one night. It had been a long day with interrupted sleep. Besides, we had to try and finish the wooden Eiffel Tower tomorrow, if possible.

Leaving my walking stick by my chair, my lighted hat hanging atop it, I stepped behind my curtained-off area and stripped out of my clothes. Shivering in the night chill, I lifted the sheet and crawled into bed.

And found myself not alone.

Blinking to drive back the sleep, I flipped over quickly and found myself looking down into my sister's lovely face. The light outside casting odd shadows, but her eyes opened with a sparkle.

"Olivia?"

She snuggled in closer to me and mumbled. "It was cold in my bed. You have better blankets. Hold me. You let the chill in!"

"Um, sis ... you know how I sleep, remember?"

"John, I don't care you're warm." She shivered. "Snuggle me, already. I'm cold."

Going with it, I pulled her in closer to me. The curves of her matching up with me. Reaching down, I pulled up another of my Indian blankets from by the foot of the bed. Between us, the heat under those blankets soared.

"John ... do you think I'm pretty?"

I chuckled. "Fishing for compliments?"

Olivia shook her head under my chin. "I was at a party ... and I was being flirty ... and I couldn't make any headway. That's why I wanted to ask."

I could hear the tears hiding under her words.

Shaking my head, trying not to laugh I hugged her to me. "Sis, there are probably a few hundred women walking around here tonight that are naked. Now, while it is true that a half-naked, inebriated woman is normally a quick go-to for many guys, here it's not even unusual." I absently brushed the hair back from her eyes. They glowed with un-shed tears in the dim light. "You're beautiful. A pain in the ass, sure, but incredibly beautiful."

I could see the smile. "Thanks." Then she chuckled. "Too bad you're my brother. I'm horny enough you could get it with just a few more compliments and a couple of kisses."