Page 104 of Sass in the Grass

Cherokee also threatened everyone with full-pack ten-mile hikes if they didn’t tip well.

The darkness outside once they left the diner only made the entrance to the city more satisfying. The lights twinkling on the horizon once they came over the little hill before it. He felt his stomach doing flips and the butterflies taking flight just knowing he was about to see Jovian.

Plastered to windows on both sides, the campers that came from rural towns were fascinated with all the life the city held long after the times when their small towns were shut down for the evening.

Cars of every shape and color driving close by, the tall buildings they passed lit like it was Christmas. The sounds, as well, from the open windows, horns honking, music blaring from different vehicles, and once they got off the five-lane highway that ran through the city, and turned to smaller areas, there were voices that could be heard from cars.

Loud laughter, an argument, they passed all of it. Cherokee knew then why he loved the mountains.

“Hey, Coach, how close are we?”

“My GPS says two miles.”

Kathy came up next to her boyfriend and said, “Why? Are you anxious?”

“Sure! I got out of survival camp tonight. I’m ready to celebrate. Oh, sorry, Coach.”

Kathy laughed and dragged him to the back and Cherokee laughed, too. He wasn’t sorry a bit.

The club came into view, a five-story brick building set off by itself amongst industrial companies and warehouses. It was the perfect place for such a club. The atmosphere before a personever arrived got them in the right mood. Iron, steel, wood, the strong materials that people constantly strived to become.

The parking lot was packed, and it was early, only eight thirty. If Cherokee remembered, clubs never got hopping before ten at night, but there they were, an hour and a half earlier than that, and already, there were people lined up to get into the doors.

Cherokee stood and announced, “Okay, everyone, I know this is a club. It’s not the woods, but you’re all still my responsibility. Buddy up! If that buddy is a romantic partner, fine, but take a friend or two and do not separate from them tonight! I’m not kidding, I will make you hike so much your feet with fall off, or swim for hours, if you can’t hike.”

They laughed and agreed, so he felt better about letting a bunch of small-town people into a big city club. He couldn’t even imagine what their impressions would be.

He waited until everyone was off the bus, and he checked to assure no one was sleeping. After locking the doors, he headed in behind the others and waited for at least fifteen minutes before the line moved enough for him to get through the doors.

The two in front of him told their names, and that they weren’t members, so they got an orange wristband. He understood that was the way the club was keeping track, so when it was his turn, he told the big, gorgeous African American bouncer, “Cherokee Dixon, not a member.”

He jumped when he heard the name and leafed through some papers under the computer monitor in front of him. “Dixon, yeah, I got this memo thing.”

He pulled it out and looked at the paper, then at him and said, “You’re VIP tonight, sir.”

“VIP? I’ve never even been here.”

“I got orders from Gary and the drag queens.”

“Drag…” he thought about it then realized that was the big mystery. “Clit and Final?”

“Yeah, them. Love their shows, man, damn!”

He got his white wristband and was told he could go anywhere in the club, but the major attractions were on the fourth floor, one everyone, including non-members, was welcome.

Heading with the crowd, he made it to the elevators, keeping his eyes peeled for Jovian, but another big, gorgeous African American man came running over to him, and stopped him before he could get on one of them.

“Hey, Cherokee, right?”

“Right,” he said, and then recognized him as True’s brother. “Gary.”

“Yeah, yeah, I met you that couple times when True and Bern first got involved with the camp. Come over here, and let me holler at you.”

They went to one of the few free tables, off in a corner of the room, and Gary called over a waiter, a cute, red-haired guy of around twenty-five. “Get me a special and Cherokee?”

“Water, thanks.”

“Good to keep hydrated.” He stared at Cherokee with a smile and said, “So, you’re the one.”

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