Page 63 of Grumpy Bear

Jim nodded, all grave and serious. “It’s very powerful. But I could only find one box of pencils, so you’ll have to share and then pass it on to somebody else when you’re done with it, okay?”

“Will do.”

Jim tactfully left us alone.

Luke leaned away from me to scribble something, shielding the paper on his knee with his free hand like the smart kid in class during a pop quiz.

“It’s not like I can see what you’re writing in the dark. You can’t even see what you’re writing.” He shushed me and kept writing. “How in the hell are you getting that many words on there?”

He handed me the pencil and sanctimoniously folded the scrap about seventy times until it was a quarter of the size of a postage stamp.

I was buying time. I didn’t know what to write. Hell, I could think of about a million things I needed to let go of, a thousand and one burdens, five years’ worth of negativity and loneliness. Was it Wayne I needed to let go or the anger I felt toward him for leaving me to carry on his dream? My bad attitude, my pessimism, my guilt? Rules? How the fuck was I supposed to fit all that on a fortune cookie note?

Luke rose with a groan, stretching and stifling a yawn. “You done?”

“Wait a second. So, could we write a wish instead? Something we want in the future instead of something we don’t want in the past? That’s the kind of shit Jim’s always harping on about.”

“I think you do wishes on those giant paper lanterns. Do you really want to take the chance of burning a wish?”

I groaned. “I’m taking over the bonfire ritual next time.” I scrawled the past—it was simply the opposite of my wishes for the future—and wadded it up like a spit ball. I held out my hand for his. “Let’s go burn the fucking past.”

26

Sawyer

Right as we were leaving, as we crossed into the light from the fire, a small blond guy with a preppy haircut and gym muscles approached us with a big grin, his hand out to Luke.

“Oh.” Luke handed him the pencil, assuming that was what he wanted. “Here you go.”

The guy automatically took it and looked at his palm in surprise. “Um. Thank you.”

“Sure. No problem.” Luke smiled at him and started to turn away, but the guy stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Hey! Great set tonight.”

“Thanks. I appreciate you saying so. It was fun.”

“You have a killer voice. Reminds me of Sam Palladio. Have you ever heard of him? He was on that show Nashville?”

“Yeah. I know who he is. That’s a huge compliment.”

“Your original songs were great too.” The guy eyed me warily.

Probably because I was giving him my signature scowl. I offered him a handshake. “I don’t think we’ve met. Coleman Sawyer. I’m the owner of the campground.” I squeezed his hand a little firmer than was necessary.

“Oh, hey. Excellent. Brad McAfee. A friend of mine works here. Trey Cordero?”

Luke and I exchanged a look.

“Trey’s working for the weekend.” I wanted that clarified. I’m sure Trey was hoping he’d get to stay on for the season, but if anyone was sticking around, I wanted it to be Luke.

“Yeah. He’s been telling me about this place. It does not disappoint. I want to bring my partner up next time.” He tacked that last part on at the end, clearly for my benefit, before turning his attention back to Luke. “I didn’t catch your last name…”

“Cody. Luke Cody.”

“That’s a rock star name, man.” Brad grinned at me for support. “Isn’t that totally a rock star name?”

I grunted, pleased that every time he looked at me his shit-eating grin died a little bit.