Page 82 of Grumpy Bear

“I can walk up—”

He cut me off. “I’ll be right there.”

I wandered inside the property. I dropped my backpack and case at a shady bench by the creek, content to sit and watch the water for a bit. The high-pitched sawing of insects in the tall grass was louder than I’d noticed before. I always forgot when I’d been away from the country how loud the insects were in broad daylight as well as at night. There were a few cars at the RV park, and a golf cart at the pool complex, but not another soul in sight. The campground was nearly deserted compared to the day Austin and I had arrived. Or any day I’d been here. It was kinda nice.

Coleman said the quiet got old in the winter when you couldn’t go anywhere else. He compared the cicadas and crickets to tinnitus of the brain, but after the Atlanta traffic and being around those manic TV people, the lull was pure relief.

It had been a long trip, motivated by this profound urgency to get back, and now that I was here… I was safe but exhausted. All the worrying about the decisions I had made and then unmade. The fear that there were some that couldn’t be reversed.

I was apprehensive but hopeful. Coleman had said I didn’t need to be with him to stay here if I wanted. I hoped that offer still stood.

Jim came tearing down the hill in his golf cart, Karen Walker regal and bored at his side. He was wearing enormous sunglasses that made him look like a bumble bee and some kind of… Was that a caftan? The deep V-neck exposed a pelt of black chest hair and a strand of beads.

He lumbered out, crushing me against him in a patchouli-scented hug. “Yes, it’s a caftan,” he said, reading my mind. “We’re extra casual when nobody’s around.”

I smiled. “More casual than nudity?”

“Isn’t it insane I get more judgmental comments about a caftan than I would a glitter jockstrap?” He laughed his big laugh and flapped his arms. “Well, anyway, hey! Love that Dolly tee. What the hell are you doing here? How was the audition?”

I blinked slowly. “I quit.”

“What? No.” He pushed his sunglasses up on his head. “Why?”

I shook my head helplessly. “It wasn’t where I wanted to be.”

Jim tilted his head. “Or who you wanted to be with?”

“I missed you guys.”

“Come on, hop in. No point in standing in the sun. We’ll talk on the way. Move over, Karen. Bitch, I said move! Just scooch her out of the way.”

I put my stuff behind the seat and hefted a disgruntled Karen Walker onto my lap. I was shocked she let me cuddle her. She licked my hand.

“How the hell did you get here?”

“Greyhound to Canton. Then I took a taxi the rest of the way.”

“Oh, honey. That must have cost a fortune.”

“Well, thanks to the money you gave me, I had enough.”

“I didn’t give you that money, you earned it. And I’m glad you showed up because I shortchanged you fifty bucks. Final tips count was better than I predicted.”

Jim drove the rest of the way up the hill without saying much. I could sense him watching me as I gazed out at the trees. The trees. I exhaled and smiled.

“Hardly anybody’s ever around here on a Monday. As soon as we clean up from the weekend everybody usually scatters into town for a hot minute.” He paused. “Sawyer’s not here either.”

I didn’t try to hide my disappointment. “When do you expect him back?”

“Did you not hear from him while you were down there?”

“No. My phone’s still off. Should I have?” Maybe he’d tried to reach me. I should’ve checked my email.

“And Brad McAfee didn’t mention anything about… him showing up?”

Someone’s gifting you a guitar “Oh, fuck. Was he bringing me the Hummingbird?”

Jim winced. “Honey, I hate to ruin the surprise, but since it’s obviously not going to happen… Sawyer drove to Atlanta with a brand-new guitar for you.”