Page 103 of Sass in the Grass

“We don’t have the money for that,” True said, then corrected himself. “Not that it matters.”

“I’ll pay for the gas.”

“For what? Why would we take everyone to Denver?”

He told them quickly everything, down to the fact Jovian didn’t want them to know.

True stood slowly from behind the desk. “Chaps? He’s doing this at Chaps?”

“That’s what they said, yeah.”

“My own brother works there! Why the hell didn’t he tell me?”

“Do I have to repeat that Jovian was worried this wouldn’t work, and he didn’t want anyone to be disappointed?”

“Still! Oh, fuck it. Let’s go. Bernie, is that old bus even going to work?”

“By the time I’m done with it, it will. I’ll run and get Daryl. He’s great at fixing cars, he’s a damn mechanic. You all go get the word out.”

In front of the camp in the Mess Hall an hour later, True gave the announcement about the event and what it was about.

It was the first most of them learned that the camp was in trouble.

“We were going to tell you all, obviously. We just hoped for a miracle. Looks like we got one, in the form of Jovian Masseretti.”

A lot of them laughed, some cheered, and some looked like they couldn’t believe it. He knew all those reactions well.

“We’re all heading up to Denver, but if that isn’t your thing, you’re more than welcome to stay back here.”

There wasn’t one person who didn’t want to go.

Bernie and Daryl worked on the bus for almost three hours that afternoon, giving the others enough time to change into clubbier clothes. Cherokee changed too, three times, wanting to look his best and not remembering in the least what most wore to clubs, especially kink clubs.

He finally settled on a pair of black jeans that were less scruffy than his others and his camo muscle shirt.

Messing with his hair in his bathroom mirror, he suddenly smiled. Out of the blue, it just showed up on his face, and he knew what…or rather whom, had placed it there.

“You little shit. I love the fuck out of you.”

He got back to the camp to see everyone lining up for the bus and rushing into the parking lot to go with friends. Everyone was going. That worried him about the camp, so he called a neighbor of his from the office phone.

“Jake, hey. I’ll up my watermelon side of the next trade by three if you come and babysit the camp today and tonight. Just keep the critters and any looters out.”

“Sure! But I’ll take three watermelons and a bushel of them cukes. I’m dying to make some pickles.”

“You’re on. I have a great crop of cucumbers this year.”

After letting True know about the deal, True said, “That’s wonderful. Now, I have another favor. Bernie and I, we’re going up alone. Will you drive the bus up for us?”

“Sure! But why are you all heading up alone?”

“It’s a surprise. Now, don’t go to the club early. In fact, everyone agreed to stop and eat before we get there. You all decide where to go.”

On a bus, the drive was long. The winding roads of the mountain pass were treacherous in a big vehicle like that, but damn beautiful. There were few talking, most of them choosing to stare out the window at the views.

The high road made it possible to see for a hundred miles. The entire area was wild, mountainous, green. Cherokee looked up into the mirror when he could to see the looks on all the faces.

They stopped at a diner outside of Denver, everyone filing in the doors, excited, talking up a storm. There were just enough tables for everyone, and the waitresses were happy they’d beserving more than the few of their regulars who’d left as soon as the crowd had showed.

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