I feel like I’ve dodged a bullet when he allows me to finish washing his legs and feet, and he hasn’t tried to have sex with me. When I finish washing his feet, I look up and notice his large penises are fully erect and are relative to his size, which are definitely too large for my vagina and my ass. I’m already in pain and don’t need any more today. I force myself to make eye contact with him. “Finished.”

“Stand,” he tells me, and I obey, hoping he will not ask me to bend over for his other needs. “Wash yourself, Water woman.”

He stands to the side in the steam shower and watches me quickly wash myself. I try to touch my body as uninterestingly and in the most unseductive way possible, which isn’t difficult because I’m also in pain and wince every now and then when the steam catches me wrongly. I start with my brown hair and rub the soap quickly and vigorously through the long strands. Then run my hands rapidly over my body down to my feet, then switch the stream to clean and meet his eyes. “Finished.”

“Switch on the dryer,” he commands me, and I obey. I close my eyes and enjoy the warmth. I think of Florida for a moment and push away the pain and this strange situation.

Afterward, I put back on my dirty clothing. He just stands there, expectantly. I pick up his clothing to help him.

“You wash these,” he says, indicating his clothing.

“I have no clothes for you.”

“I need no clothes. You wash,” he says, indicating his clothing again.

I agree. Then lead him back to my room. I’m grateful that we don’t pass anyone in the hallway. Not that I have a reputation to maintain on the farm slash brothel, but it’s odd walking through the house with a naked alien, and I worry I might be breaking some law without knowing it.

Once in my room, my patient refuses to get into my bed.

“It’s dirty. Clean this.”

I leave my room and come back with fresh sheets and change the bed as he watches me. When I am finished, he makes me help him into bed.

“I go wash clothing,” I say. I’m annoyed because I’m hungry and feel like he can get into bed himself, so it’s ridiculous that he makes me help him. Because I’m irritated, it’s especially difficult for me to get the tones of his language correct. I can see in his eyes I’ve messed this up. I repeat myself, closing my eyes, trying to focus on the words.

“You go wash …” the last word is incomprehensible to me except that it is the same sound as the word ‘clothing,’ but with a different tone. I don’t know this word.

I concentrate on the tone for the word ‘clothing’ and say it again loudly.

I open my eyes, and he looks amused.

“Go now, Water woman. Wash the clothing.”