The line rang a few times, interrupted by a click, followed by several seconds of silence.
Finally, came a greeting. "Do you need a voice?!" it barked.
"Er ... hello?" I said.
"What do you want?"
I had called looking for the creator of an unusual garden called Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
"I'm calling for Gus Brethauer ...?"
"Who is this?" the voice barked.
"Um ... Is this Gus?"
"Who is this?" it barked again.
Once I explained myself, the voice cooled. I was now speaking to a much friendlier man who told me I had found who I was looking for and that I should come on by.
Upon arrival, I honked like I was instructed to do and out came Gus. He was wearing deck shoes and a pith helmet, and eating an ice cream.
"So, you're writing a book? Sounds like a good idea if you follow through with it."
He spoke with an articulation that reminded me unmistakably of Brak from "Space Ghost Coast to Coast."
I learned of Gus's childhood, his military career and his hernia, as well as a brief history of the land I was standing on. And all this before we even got to the garden. It was an interview that would break the record previously held by Orville Mickens of the Frontier Relics Museum.
Gus used to give tours of the place, but now discourages visitors, partly due to his health. He still remembers the routine, though, evident in the rehearsed patter into which he would frequently shift. "I suffer illusions, all kinds of illusions and fantasies here," he began, setting up the premise. "I'm under the impression that I'm a maintenance man at a flying-saucer rest stop."
At first, the garden appeared to consist primarily of cactus and unusual rock specimens, but Gus's premise started to become clear as we ventured further in. Well, clearer. There was a makeshift solar system, the occasional alien, a flying saucer and what appeared to be a teleportation chamber. But there was also a temple of doom, a dinosaur, a castle and a haunted house. It was perhaps the most bizarre amalgamation I've ever seen. Perhaps the largest, too; the garden path was a half mile long.
Gus was unable to complete the tour, forced off his feet by the hernia, but he allowed me to complete it on my own. Every time I emerged into the sun, however, I was reminded that in yesterday's haste, I once again had neglected my sunblock. Just as the last burn began to turn brown, I had inadvertently added a second coat of red. My skin stung slightly with the slap of each photon. I, too, was compelled to cut things short.
So, further south I went, back to Tucson.
Incidentally, I stopped in Eloy along the way at something reportedly named Family Fun World. It appeared to be some kind of unfinished and abandoned theme park, though I have yet to get the details. If you know anything about it, please send me an e-mail.
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