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A dog of indeterminate origins crouched at his side, showing his teeth.

The sliding doors groaned mightily as Rory pushed them with a casual finger. He had always been stronger than he looked. The cool, dusty darkness inside the shed came into view. Then the shapes of large mechanical objects with wheels.

"The saddest sight on earth is a military junkyard. Unless you have the maddest mechanical skills in Arizona."

"I have no idea what I'm looking at," DeLorean said.

"When the Anti-Christ comes, this is my Anti-Armageddon." Rory gazed in rapture at the metal thing in the dark shed.

"That's all very nice, Rory. You asked me what I wanted. I came here to see Lenna, not the barrel of your big old Sharps rifle. I came to see you about trading you my minivan for a home on wheels. This...this is like some metal building on wheels."

"And you can't have it, anyway. What you want is more along the lines of an old camper, I'm guessing, but unless you tell me what arm of the law you be runnin' from, I'm not aiding and abetting you."

A pity he had such blue, blue eyes, like they'd absorbed the cloudless Arizona sky. And that he didn't have rotten teeth after all, but such straight, even teeth, and a little hint of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth upward, and that boyish gleam in his gaze. He was full of the devil, that Rory.

"Looks like I could tell on you more than you will ever find to tell on me," DeLorean said, casting her gaze around the crazy assortment of wheels, engines, and hollow metal bodies elevated on hydraulic frames. A graveyard of cars and military vehicles past, a frightening future of moving objects from the mind of a mad man.

"Here's the deal," she said. "I married a manipulative male chauvinist pig, and honored my vows for forty years." She pulled off her baseball cap. "These railroad-track scars are going down some, but not enough to keep me from remembering what Dwayne did the last time he ever got a chance to lose his temper with me."

Rory stared for a while, and it seemed the shadows of his thoughts moved in the blue of his eyes the way sharks moved in the aquarium.

"What the hell happened to your hair?"

"That's the first thing you notice?" she shouted. "Sheesh."

Five Minutes Flew By

I still haven't worked my way to Rory calling DeLorean a cow, criticizing her diet, and showing her his yoga tricks for anger management.

He called her a cow,

a heifer with a shaved head (like he knew why she'd done it!), and she fled the big metal shed, stumbling into the desert, with the dog huffing and sniffing after her. That odd dog of indeterminate origins. He-she-it was big but the tail wagged so she wasn't afraid. She held out her hand, fingers curled under, for him-her-it to sniff. The dog sat, and the tail thumped on the sand.

"Show me the way home," she said softly, almost as a prayer, not so much to the dog but to whatever spirit animated those big, shining, dark eyes, the spirit that moved that prying nurse Sandy to pressure her about leaving Dwayne, the spirit that made something devilishly cute gleam in Rory's wicked blue eyes.

The dog rose swiftly to all fours, wagged at her, then turned tail and loped off, stopping to look back over at her, and DeLorean shrugged. Why not take orders from a dog? Taking 'em from Dwayne hadn't gotten her anywhere but the hospital, and there but for the grace of God, the nut house.

Following the dog, she stopped to squint a strange figure balanced on the top of a rock.

It couldn't be. It was.

Rory, shirtless, upside down, all his weight centered over one wrist, his legs extending impossibly through the air.

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And later he'll explain his desert guru philosophy
But for now, my first five minutes passed, then my second five minutes, and then I lost track entirely (as usual), and it's all because of @goat-girlz that I'm pushing myself to accomplish more in a few minutes and few words.

Could be it just ain't gonna happen with me.

This is an ongoing freewrite,

inspired in part by @Felt.buzz and his clever series using the daily prompts. This began with a woman on the run who sneaked into the kitchen of some bachelor roommates, cleaned up, cooked dinner, and hoped to ingratiate herself and get an invitation to stay for a while.

Part One: She Came in through the Kitchen Window - Day 577: 5 Minute Freewrite: Monday - Prompt: window

Part Two: "You Little Tart" - Day 585: 5 Minute Freewrite: Tuesday - Prompt: tart

Part Three: Day 588: 5 Minute Freewrite: Friday - Prompt: rodeo
https://steemit.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/day-588-5-minute-freewrite-friday-prompt-rodeo

Part Four: Mom's Cousin Lenna the Tart - Part 3 or 4 -Day 591: 5 Minute Freewrite: Monday - Prompt: Rule

Part Five: Mom's Cousin Lenna the Lunatic

Part Six: Mom's Cousin Lenna, Part Six-ish - Day 595: 5 Minute Freewrite: Friday - Prompt: trot

Part Seven: Batter My Heart - Mom's Cousin Lenna, Part 7 - Day 598 :5 Minute Freewrite: Monday - Prompt: Batter

Part Eight: Mom's cousin Lenna + Rory, Part 8, Day 599: 5 Minute Freewrite: Tuesday - Prompt: yoga

Part Nine: [Mom's Cousin Lenna, Part 9 - Day 602: 5 Minute Freewrite: Prompt: show me the way home]

Check Out The @FreeWriteHouse Prompt Of The Day By @MarianneWest

• Look For The 5-Min #FreeWrite Daily Prompt On @MarianneWest’s Blog

Day 602: 5 Minute Freewrite: Friday - Prompt: show me the way home