The yellow dirt mountains lined the distance of the flat barren ground. The sleeve of Sadie's dress fluttered in the air. Her cowboy hat and reflective sun glasses stood fixed in place. Her arms held onto the rollover bar of the Jeep that she was standing in. Her body bounced with the rhythm of bumps and the soft suspension. She was half Japanese and Caucasian. One could not tell the Japanese aspect, except for her special beauty that most interracial offspring has.
Tyra was the one gunning the Jeep down Black Butte Basin Road. The map was pinned under her thigh to keep it from flying around. Her thighs were thick from the recent military training. Her black arms held firmly onto the steering wheel. She looked a bit weird for a black person. Her mother was Japanese. They were the odd friendship of two different Japanese half-and-halves.
The maze of tire tracks and dirt roads in the desert lead them towards a lone tall man in the flat land with many ball sized dried out plants. He wore a large felt hat and trench coat. His long barreled shotgun with the orange tip was pointed straight at their Jeep. Tyra drove straight for him. The features of his face became clearer. He had a thin beard over his lip. There were plenty of furrows in his skin and Native American features on the edges. He waved a hand up into the air to signal them to stop.
"Valet -- You cannot drive any further."
Tyra got out of the car and left the keys in the ignition. Sadie climbed on her seat and on top of the roll bars. She had one foot on the roll bar over the windshield. The other foot was on the roll bar over passenger's door. Her dress was of a light fabric. The desert wind played with it and jostled it. The wind refreshed her sweat moistened skin.
"It's a sin to use door with this car."
With a cowgirl scream, she jumped off the car. The hemline of her dress lifted from mid thigh to her belly button. Her turquoise panties flashed the desert. She was amused by it and laughed. "You wild hippie," hollered Tyra. The valet was unmoved, placed their little luggage on the ground, and got into the car.
They were on their way to checkout the latest craze of the South Land: Day clubbing. Partying solely at night was no longer enough for the youngster. New venues had arrived that offered social life and fun during the day. The new day clubs had more relaxing rooms in addition to the blaring loud dance floors. The food selection was serious and varied enough to let party animals party the entire weekend in the venue. The Underground was the most famous of all. And, it was literally underground.
They had driven North of Los Angeles for 45 minutes. Somewhere off the Pearblossom Highway was a path through the desert to their current point. Ten minutes ahead was a Joshua Tree. A Joshua Tree is a yucca that looks like a tree. The tips of the branches have dozens of thick, long, triangle-shaped leaves. The leaves are lined with spikes. The hard baked dirt with a thin layer of dust had been trampled by many footsteps. The flat footsteps blended with each other, except for the deep holes that stiletto high heels had left.
When they reached the tree, the shade that it offered did not feel any cooler than the rest of the hot and bright desert. The directions to the club ended here. The entrance had to be somewhere around. Sadie put her knees together, jumped with both feet, and punched her arms into the air: "I wanna party!" Tyra carefully scanned the horizon for mounds that could hide an entrance. Then, she walked around the front area of the Joshua Tree. The area was especially flat, even for the desert.
"Ha," she screamed out. Sadie came running with excitement. There was a wooden trapdoor. The wood was old, worn, and bleached. Desert dirt covered it to make it the exact same color as the landscape. Tyra pulled the trapdoor open. A creaky old miner stairway let underground.
Down there, a few historic metal and glass lanterns lighted up the dark room. Little gas lights flickered inside of the lantern. The light reflected on the dust floating in the air. The whole room was covered with old, bleached, and battered wood: floor, walls, and ceiling. A friendly smiling woman with perfect makeup waited for them behind a counter. The counter might have served as the counter of an old grocery store, when you would still ask the grocer for your goods and he would get it for you. That was before the time of modern self service stores.
"Welcome to the Underground. May, I have your names for the reservation."
The receptionists lip moved. The lips were the color of a dark, purple, and ripe cherry. The glistened and reflected like the light reflects on a shiny new car. The white teeth and bright red tongue occasionally shimmered behind the lips as she talked. Her hands were neatly folded together until she heard the names and began typing. The computer was hidden deeply in the century old counter.
"Of course, Tyra and Sadie, this is your first time staying with us. Can I have your luggage? It will be brought to your accommodation. If you have any bathing attire, I'd be happy to place it inside of the spa locker. Anything that you put inside these bags will be put in your locker."
"Oh, and please, take off your shoes. Many of the surfaces in the club are sensitive. I will keep your shoes right here until you leave."
The two girls zipped open their luggage. They labored over shifting their items and filling the spa bags. Once in a while they paused to catch the glimpse of a taxidermy fox on the wall or a raggedy map to a gold treasure. The receptionist calmly waited for them to rifle through their underwear and personal items. She did not react at all at the dust covered shoes that were handed over the counter.
"Here are your keys. These are Chinese secret boxes. They are a neat puzzle to open. Inside, you will find a key that you can put around your ankle or wrist. It provides you with access to your locker, room, and any chargeable services. Most of our clients really enjoy the challenge of opening the secret box. If you get frustrated, the staff is ready to help you."
