temple tastes it , and it tastes good , it tastes like what the desert would taste like if places had flavors , and they do-and she eats it up and most of maury 's too since he is reluctant to do anything but explore the textures of the place with his fingers , paint peeling from fiberglass clown faces , splintered wooden platforms , rust caked on gears and wheels , colorful plastic flags whip-snapping in the hot wind .