Page 51 of Reckless

“We’re about to cross into a different time zone. South Dakota is on mountain time in the west and Eastern time in the east of the state. So right now,” she looks at the clock on the dashboard. “It’s just gone three. It’ll be after five when we stop at Chamberlain in about twenty minutes.”

“I never knew that.” I shake my head. “That’s wild. We’re losing two whole hours.”

“We can get a longer sleep,” she smiles.

“Or we can use the extra hours for other activities.”

“You never stop,” she sighs.

“Nope. You’ll find that out later.”

“Oh my God, stop it,” she laughs. “Besides, you’re about to learn all about the darker side of RV travel.”

“What does that mean?”

“We have to dump our waste and fill back up on water supplies. Did you think the water for the shower and everything else just appears magically?”

My nose wrinkles. “Uh, honestly, I never thought about it.”

“Well, if you want to learn to drive the RV, you gotta learn how to take care of it.”

“You just don’t want to deal with the filthy stuff.”

“It’s good for you to learn these things. Can’t have you being a pampered rock star all the time.”

“Har, har,” I roll my eyes. “Bring it on. I can handle that.”

While Krista checks us in at the campsite when we arrive, I climb out and take everything in. This place is really nice, not like any of the other campsites we’ve stopped at. It’s right on the Missouri River. There are tons of trees around that give it an element of privacy between the different camping areas. RVs are away from the tents and there are several cabins.

I see signs to a shower block and gift shop, and along the river are a couple of large pontoons and kayaks. There are even people hanging out in the water, swimming, and playing. It’s busy with a lot of kids running around, but I don’t feel uneasy. It’s not the kind of place I’d expect Krista to stop, given she’s traveling on her own.

The fun begins when she takes me outside and opens up the compartments underneath the RV. There are tanks that have been collecting all our waste. Grey for water and black for the toilet. Luckily, it’s fairly straightforward to dispose of them at the dumping station, and Krista shows me how to reinsert everything.

Then she makes me man the hose, filling up the fresh-water tank which is fine by me. The weather is great and everyone around is enjoying themselves. For a while, I watch some kids with water pistols having a fight, ducking and hiding amongst the trees and bushes as they try to soak each other.

I don’t remember the last time I was that carefree. The smell of other people’s dinner make my stomach rumble. Once I’m sure the water tank is topped off, I disconnect the hose and seal everything up, then I go back inside.

Krista is on her laptop, but when she sees I’m done, she heads to the driver’s seat and drives us over to the RV site where we set up. I’m pleased to see there is a row of trees between our door side and the next parking bay.

We make fajitas together. There isn’t a lot of talk, but I keep accidentally on purpose bumping into her. She elbows me a few times. It’s not a kind of foreplay I’m used to, and not the way I usually behave around beautiful women, but it’s fun.

We set up on the small area of grass at the side of the RV to enjoy the weather and food, and I tell her about Paul’s plans to go to San Francisco to work on his solo album.

“Is that something you would ever do? Go solo?”

I shake my head. “Being part of Reckless Soul is all I ever want to do. I mean, never say never,” I add, sitting back and spreading my legs wide, getting comfortable. “Everything going on notwithstanding, I love being in the band. I can’t imagine making music without the other three. We’re family.”

“Do you worry Paul might like it and not want to come back?”

“That’d be his choice. I can’t influence it, but I don’t think he’d walk away. At least I hope not.”

Krista suggests a walk along the riverbank after dinner. It’s a nice night, and even though we pass people on the walk, no one gawks or whispers or tries to follow us. We reach a dock where there is a pontoon boat tied up. Another is out on the water, lights and music coming from it. They’re not being loud, but they’re having fun.

For a moment, I picture what it would be like if the band and the people who hang around us were out there. It wouldn’t be that sedate, that’s for sure. I enjoyed the parties, being around friends and the people I consider family.

It's hard to think about how bad things got, or that it was only a few days ago I walked out of a party and into the wilds of Montana.

I glance at Krista. For the first time in a long time, maybe even my entire life, I’m speechless. The sun is going down, but there is a streetlamp behind her, casting a halo around her. The whole thing makes her hair look like fire.

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