Then, just as I thought I would burst with joy, pleasure, and warmth toward this man, this clever, clever man, he picked me up and twirled me around, and all the gaiety disappeared. The fun was over. This close physical contact in a public place was just too distressful. I liked being in control of my own body, especially in public. The fun was over. We finished the shopping and went home.

Lewis returned to work the next day, and I was left to entertain myself, which wasn’t difficult under usual circumstances, but in the barrenness of Lewis’s home, I had to stretch my imagination to discover anything which had any entertainment value at all. I ended up washing all his dishes and all his clothes, and then I tackled the house.

By the time he came home from work, filled with excited chatter about his job and his friends, I was sullenly resentful. I carried in bags of sensible grocer­ies and helped put them away, listening to his banter, then sat, chin in hand, as he fixed dinner, and day­dreamed about the adventures I would have the next day. I was not cut out to lie around the house and wait for a man to come home from work. One day of that was sufficient.

The next day, as soon as Lewis had gone to work, I began to explore Westwater.

There were half a dozen chain supermarkets in town, and Lewis was the general manager of the biggest and most prosperous of these, on the north end of town. The north end was the affluent area, the goal of Lewis’s real estate strategies. I stayed far from there.

This was my first experience of this area of the West; I had spent the previous winter in California, but California was nothing at all like Nevada. Westwater was truly desert—desert in the very literal meaning of the word—complete with sand, sage­brush, and cactus.

I walked from Lewis’s house through his subdivi­sion, across the highway, and into town. From the quantity of run-­down motels, I gathered that Westwater was the place where Las Vegas losers came, looking to earn a decent wage in order to recoup and return. I walked through the small but respectable business district, which was filled with men in light suits and women in dresses with jackets. I kept walking, knowing that this town, as all towns, must have a seedier side, and my patience was rewarded a couple of blocks later.

I thought there was an overabundance of bars, cocktail lounges, girlie-­show theaters, and adult book­stores for a town this size, until I noticed all the military haircuts parading the streets. A military installation must be nearby. I began to fantasize about this sleazy area, and soon I hungered to hear its music at night, when it would be alive, in full bloom.