Harry knew that the opportunity to spend a few restful moments with a beautiful bombshell like Daphne were going to be few and far between, so with further ado, he grabbed a fluffy white towel from the silver rack on the wall, grabbed some flip-flops, and produced a small silver key from his wallet. There was a small door in the opposite corner of the suite – not much bigger than a door for a hall closet – and Harry stuck the key in the latch and turned it counterclockwise. Click!

The room behind the door was dark. Thankfully, Harry's Muggle upbringing kicked in as his hand instinctively searched for a light switch. He didn't find anything on the wall to the left of the door, so he then ran his hand up and down the wall perpendicular to the door, on the right. A-ha, thought Harry, as he felt the unmistakable hard plastic flip-switch, and turned it upwards. "Let there be light," Harry murmured with a big smirk on his face.

The room was small – not much bigger than their bathroom, and the hot tub itself wasn't very big – probably large enough to fit three adults comfortably. There were a couple of wicker chairs and a rack for towels. There was also a bucket of ice on a table in the corner, with a couple of glass bottles of Coca-Cola in it.

Harry then looked at Daphne with a sheepish expression. "I've never been in a hot tub before, Daphne," he confessed. "D'you know how they work?"

Daphne rolled her eyes and sighed at Harry. "You're the one raised by Muggles, Harry… between the two of us, I would have imagined you would be the one to know how to work this device."

Harry shrugged. "I've also had a very deprived childhood, Daphne… I'm not a worldly person by any stretch… and I'm not ashamed to say it… you're smarter than I am."

Daphne shook her head as she climbed up the wooden step stool to turn on the hot water. "I don't think it's that hard, Harry," she said as she inspected the tub to make sure that was clean and in working order. She noticed an LCD panel on the edge of the tub. Although she was not familiar with Muggle technology, she was astute enough to put two and two together. "The recommended temperature for a hot tub is thirty eight degrees Celcius," she said mostly to herself, "but why is the minimum temperature on this panel eighty five? That's near boiling!"

Harry chuckled. "Americans are a little weird. They know what the metric system is, but it's not as common as imperial." He paused for a moment, remembering the conversion formula. "So if thirty eight degrees Celcius is the recommended temperature, that's right around one hundred degrees Fahrenheit."

Daphne's face glowed. "Oh, thank you, Harry," she squealed. She punched in the corresponding temperature in Fahrenheit, enabled both jets, and hit the Start button and let the tub fill up. The jets turned off by themselves several minutes later, and Daphne then carefully entered the hot tub. "Ahhhhh," she sighed as she eased herself into the warm water. After she had a moment to get settled in, Harry then joined her in the tub.

Daphne couldn't help but see some scars on Harry's back as he entered the tub. "Omigosh," she whispered with concern. "A personal question, Harry," she asked with trepidation as he turned around to face her from the other side of the tub.

"What's up, Daphne?" asked Harry.

"Those marks on your back," she said, sniffling a bit. "Were those caused by your… Muggle relatives?"

The tears forming in her eyes did not go unnoticed by Harry, who merely smiled at her. "It's a long story," he said in a gentle tone. He took a deep breath and sighed – the hot water did feel good on his tense muscles, he thought. "I can tell you a bit more about my past another time, but for now, I just want to enjoy the moment with you."

Daphne nodded, a tear tricking down her cheek. "Okay, Harry," she whispered. "I just want you to know that behind the sass and snark, there's a girl that truly, deeply cares about you... and she has for quite some time. If you're not comfortable talking about it now, I understand."

"I promise I'll tell you sometime," Harry said reassuringly. "And I also care about you… but we need to find Kellen as quickly as possible, and I need you to stay focused. My scars should be the least of your worries right now."

"You're right," sighed Daphne. "We probably won't get another moment like this for a good while, so like you said, let's enjoy it."

After they got out of the tub, the children showered and changed into their night clothes. Daphne was still getting used to Muggle devices such as blow dryers and television remotes – Harry could barely contain his laughter watching his poor friend struggle.

"So, how are we going to find Kellen?" Daphne asked. "He's somewhere on the Navajo reservation in Arizona… but that could be anywhere!"

"Arizona is larger than all of Great Britain, so it won't be easy… we may need to purchase a petrol-powered vehicle to get us there… not a car, but maybe a miniature motorcycle," suggested Harry.

"Where are we going to find one of those?" asked Daphne.

"I don't know off the top of my head," replied Harry. "I s'pose I can ask the receptionist tomorrow when we check out? I don't think they're particularly expensive, probably a few hundred dollars or so," he surmised.

"A miniature motorcycle?" Daphne asked. "It sounds like it would barely hold one person, let alone three!"

"They call them miniature due to the size of their engines," explained Harry. "They're usually good for holding two people."

"And what about Kellen?" asked Daphne. "Do they come with sidecars?"

"I guess we'll have to get two then," Harry replied with a note of defeat in his voice. "They aren't made like the one Sirius had – so sidecars are definitely not an option."

Daphne gave Harry a look, like she still wasn't fully convinced. "And you're sure they're not ridiculously expensive?"

"They're not nearly as expensive as a four-door sedan, or even a full-sized motorcycle," Harry answered confidently. "You don't have to buy them from an authorized dealership; they can be found at some larger hardware stores if memory serves. The smaller ones are probably a few hundred dollars at the most."

"Oh-kay," Daphne sighed. "And if this doesn't work, then what?"

"We walk," Harry said with a straight face. Daphne was not amused with this response.

The next morning, the two friends got dressed into comfortable Muggle-type clothes again, and after getting packed up, they went downstairs to the lobby for a bite for breakfast. Harry settled on a bowl of cereal and a warm muffin with some milk; Daphne had an apple danish and some strawberry yogurt along with a cup of hot tea. After that, it was time to check out.

"I hope you enjoyed your stay last night," the receptionist said as Daphne handed her the room key.

"We did, thank you," Harry replied gratefully. "Oh, by the way, is there a hardware store or something of the like around here? We'd like to purchase a small-engine motorcycle."

The receptionist smiled. "Yes, as a matter of fact. There's actually a place called Romo Farm and Ranch back on the main drag. They not only sell tools and machinery, but they also sell western-style clothing that I'd actually encourage you to check out. I guarantee you'll be better protected from the elements in a poncho and cowboy boots than a t-shirt and sneakers! If you'd like, I'll even call a cab for you to pick you up and take you over there. They should be over here in about twenty minutes, I'd imagine."

"Perfect, thanks," murmured Daphne. She then turned and whispered to Harry. "I don't know if we have enough American currency to cover all this…"

Harry rubbed his chin in thought, and figured Daphne had a point. "'Scuse me," he said to the receptionist. "We may need to convert more of our Pound Sterling into dollars – is there a bank near that store by any chance?"

The receptionist smiled again. "Yes, as a matter of fact, there should be a Great Southwestern Bank branch about a block from Romo Farm and Ranch. It should be large enough to convert your pounds into dollars."

The two friends then plopped into a couple of oaken chairs near the front of the lobby. It wasn't a particularly long wait – about fifteen minutes later, someone entered the lobby and asked for the Fesler party. It was a different man than yesterday – but thankfully, he seemed to be perfectly fluent in English as he had no trouble understanding Harry.

Daphne handed the driver another twenty-dollar bill as he dropped them off at the Great Southwestern Bank branch that the receptionist told them about. As the entered the foyer, an armed security guard motioned the children over before they could enter the main lobby. "As a formality, your bags will need to stay out here until your transactions are complete. It's for your protection as much as it is for the bank's," he said. Harry and Daphne didn't argue – they handed the guard their bags, who stuck them on a shelf above his head on the wall behind him. "Thank you," the guard said. "I'll make sure nothing happens to them."

It was quite a large bank, as it had two floors and about a dozen tellers. Harry and Daphne didn't have to wait long to be helped, as a pleasant lady of about forty greeted them. "Hello, you two," she purred in her light Spanish dialect. "Do you have an account with us?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm afraid not. We're from the United Kingdom," he explained. He dug into his pocket and produced his wallet and got out seven hundred fifty pounds – exactly half of what he was carrying. "I'd like to convert this into dollars, please." He handed the wad of notes to the teller, who took the pile of money and told Harry and Daphne to wait a moment.

A couple of minutes later, she returned with a stack of American bills. "Okay, at the exchange rate of $1.68 per pound, that would net you $1,260," the teller explained. "However, there is a small service fee for this exchange, so the actual amount you'd receive would be $1,241.10. Does that work for you?"

"Yes please," said Harry.

"Very good," Harry said as he accepted the stack of dollar bills from the teller. He put the dollars in his wallet as discreetly as he could, and returned with Daphne to the foyer to get their bags from the security guard, who carefully got them down and handed them to their rightful owners.

Next stop, Romo's Farm and Ranch. Harry and Daphne didn't have far to walk, thankfully – it was less than five minutes away on foot. When they entered the store, they were taken aback at how huge it was. One section of the store was dedicated to livestock and pet feet, another section of the store had tools and other implements that one would expect to find on a farm or a ranch, and yet another section – perhaps the largest of all – was dedicated to clothing and footwear.

"Do you want to split up, or stick together?" asked Harry. "I know you're probably more interested in looking at clothes than machinery."

"We're sticking together, Harry," Daphne said with conviction. "After all, I'm going to have to drive that blasted device you call a motorbike, so I want to make sure it's comfortable first." Harry couldn't disagree with her rationale, so they made their way toward the machinery section. They knew they were getting close when they spotted some gasoline-powered lawn mowers, and in the back corner of the store, they finally found what they were looking for. A couple of dune buggies, a golf cart, and a handful of motorbike models.

The smallest one was fairly inexpensive - $349.99 for an 80CC engine. Despite his modest five-foot-seven frame - the same height as Daphne - Harry found the bike to be too short even for him. It might have been fun to ride as a first or second year student, he thought. He then saw a larger, silver model – the bright chrome certainly caught his eye. The wheels were thinner – it was a 125CC trail bike with that had a second set of footrests, and even a hinged seat with a little bit of storage space. Probably not enough to store a duffel bag, but it could come in handy regardless, he thought. He carefully read the specifications. It had a 300 pound load limit – he hoped it would be enough to hold him, Daphne, and two bags.

"Erm, Daphne?" Harry asked in a whisper. "I have a very, very personal question I need to ask you…"

This can't be good, Daphne thought to herself. She sighed. "Okay, Harry, what is it?" she whispered back.

"I need to know how much you weigh – these things have a rated load limit and I don't really want to find out its breaking point. It says it can hold up to 300 pounds – passengers and cargo together. By myself, I take up about half that, I think."

Daphne rolled her eyes, and sighed. "I would say that's none of your business, Potter, but since there's a valid reason behind it… I'm about eight and a half stone."

Harry did the mental calculation in his head… roughly one hundred twenty imperial pounds, he figured. And Kellen was far larger than either of them – he was a full six feet tall, and probably in the neighborhood of a hundred seventy five pounds. So it would have to be two bikes.

Harry nodded at Daphne. "Okay. I think we should be good… Kellen may have to use some bungee cords and tie at least one of our bags down to save at least a little weight… with that being said, would you like to have a seat on this bike and see how it feels?"

"Don't mind if I do," giggled Daphne as she daintily took her seat on the trail bike. "Oh Harry, I think I can get used to this! Now, how much are these?"

"They're a bit pricier than the smallest one… $579.99," he said. "I just hope they have two of them in stock!"

"That'll wipe most – if not all – of your dollars out," Daphne surmised. "Since you're kind enough to get the transportation, I'll get the clothes and other necessities. I doubt they'd cost that much."

Harry hailed a sales associate to see if the store had another one of the silver trail bikes in stock. The associate told them to wait there, as she went in the back room to check the availability. Five minutes later, she returned to where Harry and Daphne waited, and informed them that they had one silver one and one blue one in stock. Harry politely requested to have both of them reserved as he planned to purchase them that day. The associate promised Harry that they would be held until he was ready to check out.

Harry and Daphne then made their way to the clothing section, where they got some new ponchos, wide-brimmed hats, pants, and cowboy boots. "Standard issue wizard wear," Harry said with a big goofy grin on his face as he exited the changing room in his new outfit.

"If it's good enough for Kellen," mused Daphne.

They got some additional socks and undergarments for good measure, and the two friends then brainstormed to think of any additional items that they might need for their search for Kellen. Harry suggested canteens, bungie cords, and non-perishable foods, such as jerky and MRE meals; Daphne thought of soaps, sleeping bags, and matches.

When it was time to pay for everything, it was nearly sixteen hundred dollars. Harry was able to put the smaller items in the hidden compartments underneath the seats. He then lay the duffel bags down on the backs of the seats, using the small metal racks on the backs to help keep them propped up, and then placed the sleeping bags on top of the duffel bags. He then used the bungie cords to tie them down securely. After they had paid and walked their new bikes out of the store, Harry showed Daphne how to turn on her bike via kickstarter, and demonstrated how to shift gears by using one handle, and how the other handle served as the accelerator. There were two clamp brakes underneath the handlebars.

"I thought you were deprived, Harry," Daphne said in a somewhat shocked voice. "You seem to know what you're doing with one of these."

Harry shook his head. "I never actually used one, but I sure saw my cousin Dudley on one more times than I care to remember." He then looked at the fuel meter – both of them were nearly on E. "Okay, Daph. We need to find some petrol for these… from what I gather, they don't hold a lot of fuel, but they can go a pretty good distance without filling up. We'll start off slow until you're comfortable going faster… now the don't go all that fast, but it's better than walking!"

Thankfully, gas stations in Gallup were a dime a dozen, and even better, fuel was inexpensive. The trail bikes only held three gallons, but they could go about a hundred miles or so in between fillups.

"Once we get out of Gallup, we need to fill up every time we see a gas station because it could be a good distance to the next one… we may need to stay off the beaten path because we're not trying to attract attention. Besides, Kellen himself is probably off the beaten path," Harry suggested.