Desert Encounter
By MERZ
A traveler discovers a Valkyrie in an unexpected place


My car breaking down in the middle of nowhere wasn't the 
surprise.  It was everything that happened afterward that still 
surprises me.  The company cars are always breaking down and they 
don't choose the convenient places to do it.  This time I was 
just off the highway on a road that still could call itself 
paved, but only for a little while longer if the highway trucks 
didn't pay a call soon.  One minute I was bouncing down the road 
heading for my only appointment of the day and the next minute I 
was gliding the car to a stop on the shoulder without help of 
power steering, power brakes or anything else requiring engine 
power.  I had been on the road all week and really wanted to get 
this stop out of the way so I could head home for the weekend.  
Back at the highway I passed one of those little gas station-
grocery crossroads that dot the rural landscape.  They serve as a 
meeting place and as life support for ranches and farms that are 
even farther from the main roads.  As farms consolidate into 
bigger corporate spreads and as machinery becomes more 
specialized the cross road places are becoming scarcer too.  Just 
hanging on because the people living there haven't found anywhere 
else to go, I figured.

I left everything in the car but carried my jacket and wore my 
necktie loose.  I figured looking good might gain me something 
when I threw myself on the mercy of whomever I might find back at 
the crossroads.  The walk took a little longer than my guess, but 
I still made it by 8:00.  Unfortunately there was no pay phone 
outside I could use and the grocery wasn't open yet.  I sat on a 
bench on the porch, staring at the faded picture of the red 
winged horse on the side of the garage, and waited for some sign 
of life.  After ten minutes of sitting a little girl about eight 
or ten years old came around the corner of the building and 
spotted me.  I expected her to run off to find an adult as soon 
as I wished her a good morning, but she was in an inquisitive 
mood.  

"Whatcha doing, mister?"

"Waiting for the gas station to open.  My car broke down and I 
need some help."

"How did you get here if your car was broken?"

"I had to walk.  Maybe someone from the gas station can fix my 
car so I can drive again."

"Grandma's doing her morning exercises.  She'll help you when she 
gets done.  Have you done your morning exercises?"

"Just walking from my car.  I didn't have time for exercises 
before I left my motel this morning."

"Grandma says there's always time for exercises, just that 
sometimes there isn't time for other things.  Grandma has great 
big muscles because of her exercises.  She says she needs to keep 
herself big and strong so she can bring me up right.  We do 
exercises together so now I have muscles, too.  Do you want to 
see?"

"Sure.  If Grandma is doing exercises, is Grandpa around or 
somebody else who could help me?"

"No, Grandpa died a long time ago.  Now there's just Grandma.  
That's another reason she says she needs to have big muscles, 
because there's just her to do all the work.  Feel my muscle."

The little tike came over and flexed for me.  I was prepared to 
act impressed as I felt her arm, but didn't need to pretend.  The 
little mound was bigger and harder than I expected, and I told 
her so.  "Do you know how long it will take Grandma to be done 
with her exercises?  Could you go tell her I'd like to see her 
about my car?"

"Grandma never really gets done with exercises.  She just does 
some for a while, then she works for a while, then she does more 
exercises, sometimes men come by and she exercises with them and 
they give her money.  They don't even buy anything and they give 
her money.  Then we go to bed.  Do you have big muscles?"

"No, just regular size.  Could you go tell your grandmother I 
would like to use a telephone as soon as I can?"

"Okay.  Don't go away."  She ran off back around the corner of 
the building.

As if there was anywhere to go.  Expecting assistance soon I put 
my jacket on then waited some more.  In about ten minutes she was 
back leading a heavyset woman of medium height by the hand.  With 
her free hand the woman was mopping her face with a red 
handkerchief.  I couldn't guess her age, but I figured she must 
be younger than the lined, tan face and short straw colored hair 
suggested.  Maybe pushing fifty, a good ten years older than I.  
She wore zip-up coveralls with the sleeves rolled to her elbows 
and old tennis shoes.  I could see her forearms did look pretty 
formidable.  Heavy veins ran up the backs of the hands and across 
as much of her arms as I could see.  Her hands looked thick and 
capable. 

"I'm Martha. You've met Heather already."   The woman extended 
her hand for me to shake. "She says you have car trouble.  What 
can I do for you?"  She smiled at me with pale blue eyes that 
matched the color of her faded coveralls.

Introducing myself I took her hand and wasn't surprised that her 
grip was firm and dry.  "Well, first I need to use a phone. I'm 
missing an appointment at the co-op across the county line.  I 
need to call and let them know that I've been delayed.  Then I 
need to get my car fixed or towed."  

"That's a lot of needing.  I think we can help you out on some of 
it," she said and gave my hand an extra squeeze, hard enough to 
make me jerk to attention.   "I don't see a car.  Was that you 
drove by onto the cutoff a half hour ago?"

She released my hand and I resisted the urge to shake it to 
restore circulation.  "I suppose it must have been.  I didn't see 
any others.  The engine died a little ways down the road after I 
turned off the highway.  Now it won't turn over and won't make a 
sound when I try to start it."

"You check to see if all the electricals were still hooked up?"  
Martha folded her arms and seemed to be massaging her upper arms 
as we talked, her strong hands working steadily and her forearms 
stirring like bundled ropes.

"I opened the hood but I'm no mechanic.  I didn't see anything 
obviously wrong.  How about the phone?  I'd really like to call 
the people I was supposed to meet."

"Now there I know we can help."  She directed Heather to show me 
where the phone was inside.  The door to the store wasn't locked 
and the little girl led me behind a counter where she pointed to 
a black dial telephone. I made my call and told my story.  The 
folks at the co-op were sympathetic and seemed amused when I told 
them where I was stranded.  They said I should call if I wanted a 
couple of them to come out and rescue me from Martha, in case I 
couldn't get my car fixed right away.  I laughed off the offer 
and told them I would keep them informed of the situation.

When Heather and I went back out Martha had driven an ancient tow 
truck around to the front of the store.  She emerged from the 
adjoining garage carrying a large toolbox that she placed on the 
floor of the cab.  "I'll be back as quick as I can.  If I get any 
customers, you can either take their money or stall them until I 
get back.  Heather knows where everything is.  Heather, if you 
mind your manners and be a good girl until I get back I'll let 
you do a special exercise with me."  She gave us a wave and drove 
off.  

Heather told me the backyard was shadier than sitting on the 
porch.  It was early enough that I didn't need much shade, but I 
was restless.  I gave up my seat in the shade and followed her 
around to the back of the building, checking out the 
neighborhood.  A large metal shed and a couple smaller ones stood 
among a little vegetable garden, a child's wading pool, and the 
hulks of a couple old cars. It all looked pretty stark and dusty 
to my city eyes.  I returned to my bench.

After fifteen more minutes of idleness I heard Martha's tow truck 
returning, and saw my car following along helplessly.  Martha 
rolled to a stop in front of me and hopped out.  "Best I can 
figure you have a bad alternator, and now your battery's drained, 
too.  You have a couple choices.  The gas station twenty miles 
down the cut-off you were on might have an alternator that would 
work.  Back up the highway in town they'd have one and you could 
have a garage tow you there to get fixed up.  It'll take them a 
couple hours to drive out, a couple more to tow you in, and then 
they can start to work.  Just about any way you cut it, this day 
is about shot for you.  If I get the part I can try to get you on 
the road by nightfall, but I can't guarantee anything.   If you 
want to stay over here, I have a couple rooms above the store I 
sometimes rent out.  At least you'll be closer to the co-op if 
you can get a ride over there to do your business.  Just let me 
know what'll make you happy."

Nothing in this hot, dusty place was going to make me happy, I 
thought.  Of the various alternatives the most promising was to 
try to get my business done today rather than head back to the 
nearest small city and have to start all over again on Monday.  
Most of my work is done on my computer and I can do that just 
about anywhere.  After a little consultation with Martha I 
resolved to try doing my work by phone and keyboard right where I 
was, then drive away at the earliest opportunity and never see 
this place again.  Of course I didn't exactly phrase it that way.

Martha called the gas station twenty miles away and learned they 
did have an alternator that would fit.  They agreed to drive it 
over for her to install.  I talked with the co-op and the manager 
agreed to send the files and discs I needed with the fellow from 
the gas station.  It sounded like I would soon be in business.  
By the time I was off the phone Martha had lowered my car from 
her tow truck and with Heather's help was pushing it into the 
garage bay where she would work on it.  She received my report 
with a nod and said when the gas station guy showed up she and 
Heather would be around back and that he would know the way.  
Otherwise she'd be back soon to see to the rest of her business.  
I was welcome to sit inside or out and not to worry if any 
customers just wandered in to take what they wanted.  They always 
left their money on the counter.

She and Heather had been gone about ten minutes when I got bored 
just sitting. I was curious what the old woman was up to in the 
backyard so I wandered back to the large shed.  Standing next to 
the window I could hear Heather counting.  I looked in just as 
she got to twelve and saw Martha set down a barbell with a heavy 
thud, then give a deep breath of relief.  In the dim light I 
couldn't see what the weight had been, but I could tell that 
Martha had changed her outfit.  She had removed the coveralls and 
now was dressed in shorts and a tank top.  Only her broad 
contours were visible, but they gave the impression of wide 
shoulders tapering to a thick waist above wide hips.  

"You said we'd do a special exercise," Heather said.  "Show me 
how big your muscles are now that you finished your curls, and 
then we can do special exercises."  

"Oh, you've seen how big plenty of times.  Let's just get on and 
finish up for the morning," Martha replied.

"No, I want to see.  Are they as big as watermelons now?  I'll 
bet you can make them be that big.  You have to show me."

"I don't have to do anything I don't want. That's one of the 
reasons I do my exercises.  But okay, here they are."  

I could see Martha was kneeling down and flexing, but again the 
darkness kept me from seeing any of the details.  Heather was 
feeling Martha's arm, then pounded on her biceps.  "Bigger than 
yesterday, I think, and hard like rocks.  Someday I'll make my 
muscles just like yours, Grandma," Heather told her.  "Now what 
special exercise are we going to do?"

"We'll do piggyback pushups.  I'll do mine and you lie on my back 
and do yours at the same time.  Ready?"  I could see Martha lie 
down and Heather stretch out on her back.  As Martha began 
counting I could see they were rising and sinking in unison.  
Heather lost interest or strength at twenty, but Martha continued 
for at least ten more with Heather sprawled along her back.

"Would my mama have muscles like yours?" I heard Heather ask as 
she rode up and down on Martha's back.

"No, she was just a little thing.  She was pretty like my mama 
was, but not strong."

"I don't think that man does his exercises.  He doesn't seem very 
strong to me.  I'll bet he'd like to feel your muscles."  

Out of the mouths of babes.  I had to turn away and sneak back to 
my bench.  The muscle-fantasy center of my brain was on fire as 
my imagination painted details on the dim images I had seen.  It 
was sending alarm signals right to my crotch and I had to sit 
before my hardon got too painful.  After a couple minutes 
composing myself I got my briefcase and computer out of 
my car.  I set up on the counter in the grocery store and took 
off my necktie.  No point in being formal in a place like this.  

I had called up the files I needed to get started when a semi 
growled to a halt in front of the store.  The driver climbed down 
and stretched, looking around the place.  He spotted Martha, done 
with exercises for now, coming around the corner to investigate.  
He approached her slowly and appeared to be introducing himself.  
They spoke for a while, then she motioned for him to come into 
the backyard.  About fifteen minutes later they reappeared, 
Martha with her arm around the shoulders of the trucker as he 
slowly walked back to his rig, head down and shoulders drooping.  
He climbed into the cab, she gave him a friendly wave, and he 
drove off.  When the truck was underway Martha came into the 
store.  She went to the cash register, hit the NO SALE button and 
dropped some bills into the cash drawer.  

I looked down quickly at my figures when she glanced over at me.  
My head was spinning.  Heather had said men stopped by sometimes 
and gave Martha money but didn't buy anything.  I had just seen 
such a transaction but I was trying to avoid the obvious 
conclusion.  My God, I thought.  The woman's a prostitute and her 
granddaughter knows all about it.  What kind of life is that for 
the poor little kid?  And how many men in this corner of nowhere 
would be interested in Martha for sex when the highway can 
connect them with plenty of better looking prospects a two hour 
drive in any direction?

About ten o'clock an old lady came to take over running the store 
for the busiest six hours of the day.  The busy time saw a couple 
customers per hour. All in all I figured the woman took in about 
enough to pay her a minimum wage for her time behind the counter.  
Martha was in the garage working on some tires and other projects 
when a pickup with three teenage boys rolled up.  I watched 
through the front of the store as they piled out and hollered a 
greeting to Martha.  She came out wiping her hands on a red rag 
and gave them a smile.  They exchanged some words, shook hands 
all around, then she motioned for them to follow her around to 
the back of the building.  I changed windows so I could watch 
what she had in mind for a teenaged trio.  The window looking 
into the backyard was propped open to let in a little cross 
breeze so I could also hear the conversation.

In the dusty lot Martha walked half a dozen paces from the boys 
and scuffed out a line in the dirt.  Then she took her stand two 
feet in front of her line, one leg braced behind her, her arms 
out at her sides.  The first kid took a three point stance, then 
drove forward to crash into the woman.  I heard the impact as a 
distinct thud.  The young football player recoiled off to land in 
the dust on his butt to the hooting amusement of his two friends.  
He scrambled to his feet and the second player, a little larger 
than the first assumed the position.  His performance was a near 
identical repeat of the first boy's, although he did manage to 
force Martha back a couple of inches.  Now the third and largest 
took his turn. This kid stood well over six feet tall, broad 
across the shoulders and chest. Nature seemed to have cheated him 
out of a neck. He hunched down and began puffing and growling.  I 
certainly would not have wanted to face this kid in a dark alley 
or on a football field.

"So, how's the team shaping up, Andy?"  Martha called to him, 
smiling.  "With you graduating this year are we going to have any 
linemen to speak of?  These two little rascals won't fill your 
spot, that's for sure.  If they're still on the team next year I 
might let them try this with my granddaughter."

Andy gave a roar and charged.  Martha maintained her braced 
posture, drawing a deep breath and leaning forward just before 
the collision.  Her feet slid backwards a full foot in the sand. 
Andy continued driving into her after the initial crashing impact 
but she quickly halted his progress so he was just churning dust 
until he dropped exhausted at her feet, rubbing his shoulder. She 
was still well in front of the line she had scuffed in the dirt 
behind her.

"My my, you sure have improved young feller. That weightlifting 
the coach had you doing helped a lot, I'd say.  When you get to 
State you ought to really show those boys something.  Ten bucks 
each, gentlemen, unless you got something you want to go double 
or nothing on."  The boys exchanged embarrassed looks, then dug 
bills out of their blue jeans and handed them across to Martha.  
Without another word they walked back to their pickup, heads 
hanging, no one speaking.  Andy paused to look back at the 
smiling Martha before climbing in behind the wheel and driving 
off.

With new insight dawning I stepped out the front door as another 
pickup squealed to a stop in front of Martha.  A young man who 
looked to be maybe twenty years old hopped out.  

"Hey, Jimmy, good to see you again.  You got that alternator?"  

"Yes ma'am, and some paperwork and stuff the co-op wanted me to 
run out to a gentleman.  Say, you're looking a little peaked.  
Are you feeling all right?"  The kid was grinning as he said this 
because Martha obviously looked healthy and active even if a 
person didn't know what she had just been up to.

Martha got a shrewd smile as she listened to this.  "Now I was 
just thinking the same about you, sonny.  You want to lie down 
and rest a bit before you have to make that long drive back?  I 
wouldn't want anything to happen to a nice little lad like you.  
I don't suppose I could sell you some vitamins, maybe we could 
get a little color into your cheeks before sending you back 
home?"

"Same stakes as before?" Jimmy said, puffing out his chest to 
Martha.  

"You go first, five dollars for every one I do more than you can 
manage."  They walked off together into the garage bay, leaving 
me puzzled on the porch with Heather.

"They're going to have a chin-up contest," Heather explained as 
she came up next to me.  "Grandma always wins her contests.  Do 
you want to watch?  C'mon."  

By the time we reached the garage Jimmy was levering himself up 
and down from one of the roof beams as Martha counted, "Eleven, 
twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, fifteen and a half -- come 
on, sonny, you can do it -- sixteen."  Jimmy dropped, puffing to 
the floor.  "That's a couple better than I remember you doing 
last time.  Let's see if this old lady has anything left to match 
that."

Martha needed to stand on a large jerry can to reach the beam, 
then she started cranking off her own pull-ups.  Jimmy was 
counting.  As she neared fifteen he started questioning her form, 
whether her chin really reached the beam, and suggesting that at 
her age too much exertion could be hard on her heart.  She passed 
his total and struggled to get a few more, dropping to the floor 
after twenty.

"I must be getting old," she gasped.  "Time was I could do twice 
that and not break a sweat.  But I do remember my math and that 
means you owe me twenty bucks, youngster."

Heather nudged me and whispered, "She always does just four more.  
She can do lots more.  She just doesn't like to show off.  You 
should see her muscles!  Now he's going to want to feel her arm."

Jimmy handed over the money, then mumbled something to Martha I 
couldn't hear.  She grinned and flexed an arm at her side as he 
ran his hands over an obvious hard ball straining the worn 
fabric of her coveralls, feeling and squeezing, his eyes closed 
tight.  She flexed the arm a few times under his hands, then 
shook him off.  He took a couple deep breaths, handed her 
another bill, then got the car part out of his pickup and handed 
her that as well.  Martha thanked him and said she'd go inside 
and get him a check for it.  When she and Heather had gone into 
the grocery Jimmy looked at me a little sheepishly and said, 
"Well, she is a strong old bird, I gotta give her that.  
My daddy says she wasn't ever much of a looker, but now she's 
just an odd, old woman living way out here with her 
granddaughter.  I don't envy you if she's all the scenery you're 
going to see today."

What I'd already seen had me intrigued.  Jimmy got the files and 
the computer discs he had carried out for me and we went into the 
store.  I sorted through the material, concluding I'd be able to 
go through their files and programs from where I was.  If the car 
could be fixed today I might not be too far behind my schedule 
for getting home.  

After I thanked Jimmy and he went on his way, Martha led me to a 
little office in the back of the store where I could really 
spread out.  She told me to just make myself at home, that she'd 
be around the store or working on my car in the garage.  If I 
wanted anything in the store to eat or drink just make a note and 
we could settle up later.  I burrowed into the numbers and codes 
to see what I could learn about the co-op.  Heather dropped in 
now and then and I talked about computers and accounting some 
with her.  She seemed like a bright kid and curious about life 
beyond her little crossroad home.

About noon Martha came in.  "I got the new alternator in and I 
have the battery charging.  If it all works, you could be out of 
here this afternoon.  You're welcome to join me and Heather for 
lunch."  I gladly accepted lunch with Martha and Heather. 

We sat around a table in the small quarters they had behind the 
grocery.  After a little small talk I decided to steer things in 
the direction that interested me the most.  "Heather says you 
are quite dedicated to exercise and fitness.  It would seem 
running your various businesses and keeping up your household out 
here by yourself would keep you as fit as you would need."

Martha looked thoughtful for a moment, then looked at me 
steadily.  "It isn't about fitness, it's about being strong.  I 
grew up on a ranch not far from here, and it was a hard life.  I 
found that as I grew I got stronger and the work got easier for 
me.  From then on it seems life just got tougher and I've worked 
to be strong enough for whatever came along. My husband was 
sickly so I needed to be strong enough to carry part of his load. 
My husband died not long after my daughter was born so I had to 
be strong enough to bring her up on my own.  Now I have Heather 
and at my age it's the biggest load yet.  But I can carry it.  I 
have to, to bring her up right so she can get out of here to 
college and make her own life.  And she will, won't you honey?"

"I don't want to get out.  I want to live here and get muscles 
like you.  The people I saw in the city never had big muscles 
like you have, Grandma.  I want to look just like you do after 
you exercise.  You should see how big they are," Heather told me 
with real affection in her voice.

"Oh, hush now. You should want to grow up smart like our friend 
here.  It's important to know about computers and business."

Shortly after lunch I looked up to see a slender, middle aged man 
approach Martha at the counter.  He looked about nervously, then 
produced a thick steel spike from his pocket and laid it on the 
counter.  Martha met his gaze and the two exchanged a few words, 
whereupon the man laid two bills next to the spike.  Martha nodded, 
hefted the spike and said something more.  The man blushed to the 
roots of his hair and pulled another note from his wallet.  Martha 
produced her bandana once again and wrapped it around the steel spike.

As she looked directly into his eyes the man reached across to 
grip her bared forearms.  In a moment I saw Martha's back and 
shoulders tense, her forearms swell in the hands of the stranger.  
Then her hands began moving until the red bundle she gripped was 
bent at ninety degrees.  She smiled, unwrapped the spike and 
handed it to the man.  His hands trembled as he accepted it, 
then gripped it hard like he was trying to bend or unbend it 
himself.  As if in a trance he retreated from the store, staring 
at the bent steel in his hand.  I saw him sitting alone in his 
car out front for several minutes before he finally started the 
engine and drove off.  Martha threw me an amused grin as she 
put the bills into the cash register.  I buried my eyes in my 
spreadsheets and computer screen once more.

I made a few calls to the co-op seeking more details or 
explanations of peculiar items, and a few back to my office to 
report my progress and the outlook.  By mid afternoon it was 
clear I wouldn't be finished in time to present my findings and 
recommendations to the co-op before it closed for the night.  The 
manager surprised me by offering to come in on Saturday morning 
with his staff if I thought I could be done by then.  Since that 
would save me a long trip back I gratefully accepted.

About three o'clock the noisy clatter of motorcycles interrupted 
me.  I went to the front window to see Martha greeting two 
leather-clad bikers, one tall and broad, the other short and 
wiry.  They talked for a while, appearing to be in some 
negotiations, then separated.  While the two men walked behind 
the store Martha turned off into the garage.  She emerged with a 
steel tow chain over her shoulder.  Through the back window I saw 
her walk past the waiting men without a glance, then crouch by 
the derelict car squatting on its wheel rims.  She hooked both 
ends of the chain to the rusty bumper and held the middle out to 
her challenger.  "Here you go.  You got thirty seconds to move it 
as far as you can.  Marty can do the measuring.  Then I'll take a 
turn.  Your choice: I'll take it back the way it came or farther 
the same way.  Makes no difference to me."

The big man looked at his buddy, looked at Martha and looked at 
the junk car.  "I guess keep going the same direction, if you 
can.  Maybe it'd be easier working the same track right after 
me."  He pulled the leather jacket off his thick shoulders and 
handed it to his buddy.  Then he took the chain and draped it 
over his back and shoulders and prepared to lean into the rusting 
weight.  Martha stood aside without showing much interest.  "Say 
go, Marty, and don't forget to mind your watch.  Thirty seconds."

Marty called out and the big man threw himself forward like a dog 
hitting the end of his leash.  For a moment he strained against 
the taut chain, then the car began slowly sliding forward across 
the ground.  He gasped and strained, turning beet red as the car 
body inched forward across the sandy ground.  Finally the other 
man, Marty, called time and the biker dropped gasping to his 
knees.  

"Not bad for a first attempt.  It takes a little getting used to, 
it's such an awkward load, and that chain does cut into the 
shoulder, doesn't it?"  Martha offered a hand to the biker but he 
refused to take it and struggled to his feet unaided.  

"That must be two feet, old woman.  No way you're going to beat 
that."  His breathing was returning to normal as Marty knelt with 
a tape measure to verify he had dragged the dead weight twenty 
inches.  

Martha nodded at this information and took her place beneath the 
chain at the front of the old Ford.  "Say when, Marty."  At his 
command she leaned forward, driving her feet into the soft 
ground.  The rusting iron groaned forward and Martha turned so 
she was facing the car body, the chain wrapped across her back. 
She churned on for a few steps, then stopped and waited out the 
ten seconds until Marty called time.  She had clearly beaten the 
motorcyclist's distance in half the allotted time.  No point in 
showing off, apparently.  Marty looked at his friend who turned 
away in disgust, not bothering with the measurement that would 
only put a statistic on his defeat.  "Maybe you broke it loose 
for me," Martha called to his back as she gave Marty a sly wink.  
"If you're holding the stakes, Marty, it's time to pay up.  Fifty 
smackers worth."  She accepted the money, then turned to undo the 
tow chain as Marty jogged after his friend to their waiting 
bikes.  They left with a more subdued sounding roar.

This time when Martha came inside to stow her winnings in the 
till I approached her.  "You said you had a room you might be 
able to rent me for the night," I said to Martha.  "If it isn't 
too inconvenient I'd like to take you up on that.  That way I can 
get an early start over to the co-op and finish my business, just 
a day behind schedule."

"That's no trouble at all.  Heather will be happy for the 
company," Martha replied.  "I wondered if we might talk you into 
staying the night.  It'll just be a room with a bed above the store, 
bathroom down the hall, but I guarantee it's clean."

I confirmed arrangements for the morning with the co-op and 
finished up my work in the late afternoon.  That left me free to 
offer help around the store or elsewhere I might be useful.  
After a little coaxing I finally convinced Martha to let me prepare 
dinner for the three of us.
  
As we ate I tried turning the conversation back to Martha's 
exercises, and to their results. Each time she diverted our talk 
back to other topics, such as my work, Heather's reading, or 
current events she had read of in the newspaper and heard of on 
the radio. We finished eating and the three of us cleaned the 
dishes and tidied the kitchen together.  Then they retired to a 
back portion of the building while I made some notes in the 
office for my presentation the next day.  

I carried my suitcase upstairs to one of the little sleeping rooms 
and read for a while.  Around 9:00 I packed up my workpapers and 
took them out to my car, ready for a quick departure in the 
morning.  Heading back through the kitchen to reach the stairway 
up to my room one last time I was surprised to see Martha sitting 
alone in the dark at the table. 

"This is my favorite time of the day, with Heather tucked in and 
things quiet and cool finally.  During the summer when Heather 
isn't in school this is the only time I have to myself.  Would 
you like to sit?"

I sat opposite her and looked at her outline.  Through the gloom 
I could tell she had changed from coveralls into a bathrobe.  
"What happened to Heather's parents, if I may ask," I finally 
said to break the silence.

Martha waited a few moments before answering.  "Drugs.  Drugs and 
the city happened.  My daughter ran off right after high school 
to see the bright lights.  She took up with all the wrong sort 
and disappeared.  She quit taking care of her body, quit 
respecting herself.  When I finally tracked her down she weighed 
about as much as my leg, just a little sack of bones.  And she 
had a daughter but didn't know who the father was.  I brought 
them both back here, and I thought I had my daughter back to 
thinking about her own health for a while.  Then one morning she 
was gone again with just a letter saying she needed to get back 
to the city.  Said I shouldn't try to find her again but to take 
care of Heather.  Said she knew I could do that better than she 
could.  Heather's the best thing that's happened to me.  I don't 
know where I went wrong with my daughter, but now I have a chance 
to make it right.  Every extra cent that comes my way I put into 
a college fund for her.  She's going to get out of this wasteland 
and make something more of herself than a muscle headed freak 
like me.  I work hard at it but you've seen I have the muscle to 
handle it, haven't you?"

Caught by surprise I mumbled that I had seen how hard she worked 
and she must be fit to handle the mechanical chores her garage 
involved.

"I saw you peeping in at the window this morning, getting a good 
look.  And I saw you looking out when some of those fellas wanted 
to test me.  I know the looks you thought you were sneaking at 
me.  I've seen them before.  Mostly from the kids, like Jimmy and 
few years younger."  She paused and looked across at me. 

"Some men are interested in the strength part and other ones just 
like the muscle.  I figure you for one of the muscle ones, like Jimmy.  
I've seen city types like you.  You don't work with your hands 
so lifting things that are heavier than the next fellow can 
doesn't mean much to you.  Out here it's the other way around.  
The men like to show off what they can do, cause they don't own 
anything worth showing off.  And they like a woman with no muscle 
at all who makes them feel like they're more than they really are."  
She paused and looked out into the desert darkness.  "One hundred 
dollars.  For one hundred you can watch me take my shower.  A 
hundred more and you can help with the washing.  That's as far as 
it goes.  The store's set up to take your credit card if that's 
how you want to pay."

She led me to the bathroom upstairs near my room and away from 
the living quarters she shared with Heather.  Inside she started 
the water running and stood before me, looking directly into my 
eyes.  After a couple of moments she undid the belt of her 
bathrobe and let it drop to the floor.  I staggered back until my 
back was against the wall.  

"It's a strong body," she commented matter of factly.  "I've 
always been stronger than most people - even as kid.  Then when I 
was a little older than Heather, about when the other girls 
started their changes, I got stronger."

I had fantasized this moment all day.  Now that it had become 
reality my head was spinning.  I felt so dizzy I needed to lean 
against the wall for support.  She was broad at the shoulders and 
hips as I already knew.  Her wide chest tapered a little to a 
waist that looked thick but solid.  I hadn't expected curves or 
centerfold breasts but was still shocked by the impression of 
strength she radiated.  This was a body that could drag an 
abandoned car all day or withstand any charge from cocky 
farmboys.

"Instead of breasts - or I guess in addition since I got them 
too, I started growing muscles."  She cupped the round breasts 
that would have been impressive on a chest less thick and wide.  
She ran her hands down over the broad, flat stomach, toward the 
thick bulging thighs.  "Until I turned about 18 the muscle just 
kept building up until it's about two inches thick most 
everywhere."  She gripped her heavy upper arms and squeezed until 
her knuckles turned white but could make little impression.  
"They're harder than the muscles I've felt on most other people, 
too.  I didn't know what was happening.  I still don't, really, 
and I tried to hide what was happening to me.  My grandmother 
guessed one day and told me it had happened to her at about the 
same age.  She said she had always tried to hide it, tried not 
to let on she had the muscle of a couple grown men.  I think it 
will happen to Heather.  Like I said, she's already stronger 
than the other kids around here.  But she's going to college so 
she doesn't have to settle for the first skinny little man 
willing to marry her and so she doesn't have to end up here."

She turned and stepped into the shower.  The water ran 
over her head and cascaded down over her shoulders and chest.  I 
remained standing against the wall, across the small room from 
her, unable to move or turn away.  As she soaped her scalp I saw 
the thick muscles bunch and stir in her shoulders and back, boiling 
under the smooth surface of her pale skin.  She looked over her 
shoulder at me.  "Would you like to do my back?  I already said 
it would be all right."

I crossed the room in two wobbly steps and numbly accepted the 
soap and sponge she offered.  She faced away and I rubbed the 
sponge up and down the rolling contours of her back.  I noted the 
usual bone structure was buried beneath her flesh, not obvious 
amid the hills and valleys along her spine and the mounds covering 
her shoulders.  Holding my breath I ran my hand over her back, 
shocked by the density of the tissue I was feeling.

"Here, I'll make it wider," she offered, and spread her lats like 
a boat spreading a white sail.  She raised her arms to lift her 
short hair off her neck and I rubbed there.  She stepped back 
toward me so I could reach around to her front.  Running my hands 
up from the thick, hard bands of muscle across her abdomen I 
pulled back for an instant when I encountered the unexpected 
softness of her left breast.  I recovered and soaped her breasts, 
then moved hungrily down to her legs.  She shifted to help me 
reach her thighs, calves and feet.  

When I had explored her entire body she turned off the water and 
turned to face me once more.  "Now hand me the towel.  You were a 
gentleman so you're welcome to come again some time.  Not too 
soon.  Maybe I'll flex them for you then.  Some men like to see 
that, I guess, maybe feel them.  Yeah, come back in a couple months.  
The price will be higher, but you'll pay.  Plan on spending a day 
with Heather teaching her about computers, maybe help her with her 
arithmetic.  We'll see how it goes."

I knew I had been dismissed as she toweled herself off, taking no 
more notice of me.  I don't remember walking down the hallway to 
my bedroom and I don't remember undressing before falling asleep.  
Next morning Martha greeted me but didn't offer breakfast.  She 
ran my credit card, itemizing the alternator and adding "service" 
for the price she had set.  Heather followed me out to my car and 
wished me a good trip.  "Grandma likes you. I hope you come again 
and Grandma says she hopes so, too."  

It's been two months, the amount of time Martha specified.  I've 
counted the days.  I bought a basic computer I'll give Heather when I 
travel that way again.  And I'll bring flowers for Martha.

*	*	*