Monday morning at eight o’clock, Topher gingerly approached cabin 8 of the Paul Bunyan Hotel and knocked on the door with his good hand. His whole right side was sore from carrying Cash out of the warehouse the night before. Luckily, the actor had regained consciousness once he had some fresh air, and had blamed the episode on low blood sugar. The others were so relieved he hadn’t dropped dead that they didn’t question him, but privately they had their doubts.
“Hey, Cash? Are you awake?” Topher said. “We’re ready to go when you are.”
When they arrived at the Paul Bunyan Hotel after the concert, Topher and his friends decided to give Cash one of the two cabins they’d reserved all to himself. After hearing the demonic noises he made in his sleep, no one wanted to bunk with the actor.
“Cash, can you hear me?” Topher said, and knocked again. “Are you even in there?”
The door opened a crack and Topher saw that Cash was still in a hotel bathrobe. The actor shielded his eyes from the sunlight like a vampire and moaned. He cradled a small trash can like it was a newborn baby.
“Good morning, Cash!” Topher said cheerfully.
Just the sound of his voice was agonizing for the actor.
“Sorry, I slept in.” He groaned. “Is it time to leave already?”
“Yeah, but there’s no rush,” Topher said. “We’re spending the whole day at the Mark Twain National Forest, so we can leave whenever you’re ready.”
“About that,” Cash said. “Look, I woke up with a terrible headache. I feel like someone’s hammering a pickax into my skull. I’m not sure hiking through the wilderness is a good idea.”
“Can we get you some aspirin or anything?”
“No, I just gotta sleep it off. You guys should go ahead without me. I don’t want to hold you back, so I’ll just meet you in Oklahoma City tonight.”
“Cash, that’s like a six-hour drive,” Topher said.
“It’s fine—I’ll call a car,” Cash said. “Don’t worry, I’m not ditching you. I’ll see you guys later at the Vacation Suites.”
Cash quickly slammed the door and Topher heard him vomiting behind it. The situation clearly wasn’t up for discussion, so Topher returned to his friends in the car.
“Well?” Joey asked from the driver’s seat. “Where is he?”
“The dude’s hungover as fuck,” Topher informed them. “He wants us to go on without him and meet us in Oklahoma City later tonight.”
“What?” Mo said. “That’s insane! Why don’t we just leave the forest early and come back for him?”
“It wasn’t exactly up for debate,” Topher said. “He’s in really bad shape.”
Joey shook his head. “Low blood sugar my ass,” he said. “That’s what he gets for mixing medication with alcohol. And it’s probably why he’s developing a bad reputation in Hollywood—he’s got to be more careful.”
“Hopefully last night will be a wake-up call for him, then,” Sam said. “How’s your shoulder, Topher? Any better?”
“It feels like I’ve been drawn and quartered, but I’ll be okay to hike today,” Topher said. “I gotta say, passing-out incident aside, I had a lot of fun last night.”
Everyone in the car smiled, completely in agreement.
“Oh my God, soooo much fun!” Mo said. “Definitely in my top ten favorite nights of all time—who am I kidding, top five. I know I had issues at first, but having Cash around might be kind of nice.”
“It was a blast!” Sam said. “I haven’t danced like that since I was a kid, and even then it wasn’t as fun.”
“Who knew Sam could move like that?” Joey said. “And who knew Topher could move at all?”
They laughed at him and playfully pushed his good shoulder.
“It was special,” Topher said, then glanced at Sam when he wasn’t looking. “Really special.”
With Joey at the wheel, the station wagon left the enormous statues of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox behind and ventured farther into Missouri. At the four hundred and thirtieth mile of their journey, they arrived at the Mark Twain National Forest. The gang changed into comfortable shoes and selected a hiking trail from the options on a large map posted at the ranger’s station.
The sights and sounds of the forest were beautiful, the smells were transcendent, but all anyone could think about was the night before. They relived every moment of their night with Rosemary’s Abortion, from sneaking past the bouncer to cutting loose on the dance floor, and even picking Cash up off the dance floor. It had been a day of frustrations but a night of firsts, and they would cherish it forever.
None of them had cell service as they hiked through the forest, which was a good exercise for a group of millennials. They enjoyed spending a few hours disconnected from the rest of the world—or at least that’s what they said while checking for service every hundred feet. Only when their trail wound downhill to a small stream did the first bars of reception appear. Suddenly, everyone’s phones started going off like winning slot machines.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Sam said. “I hope something bad didn’t happen.”
They checked their phones and found that their in-boxes were filled with hundreds of Google Alerts. Mo read the subject of the first one and screamed.