Chapter 11

I set up the tents for the, what, fifth time? Fort Canby in Long Beach, Beverly Beach in Lincoln City, Harris Beach in Brookings. Then three in California, Van Damme, Angel Island, and San Luis. Now Mojave. Seven. Seventh time.

I had to admit this was different. The first five were all on the ocean. Then San Luis was a lake. Well, a reservoir. Now a desert. Tami was sure giving us our money's worth.

I finished with the tents just as Robbie finished setting up the boom box and a battery pack. Darlene was unpacking our camp stove and cooking supplies.

We were staying in the Hole-in-the-Wall Campground. I wondered if it was the same hole-in-the-wall that Butch Cassidy, Sundance, and those types hung out at. I could have sworn that was Wyoming or one of the Dakotas.

There were thirty-five campsites at Hole-in-the-Wall, and even though it was Monday afternoon, they were all full. Tami and the others were visiting the neighbors.

"Any idea what's on your girlfriend's devious mind?" Robbie asked as I sat down in one of the camp chairs.

"She wasn't devious until she met you, but no, I haven't. Maybe she's got the band and us signed up for American Idol."

Darlene popped the top on a Coke and handed it to me. I didn't know, but figured the temperature was in triple digits. They say the nights get cold in the desert, but I didn't see how.

"Ever thought about it?" Robbie asked as she pulled up a chair beside me.

"Thought about what?"

"Idol. Trying out."

"I've daydreamed, but not seriously. Simon would rip me up, and I think I'd go for his throat the first time Randy called me dawg."

Robbie laughed. "What about Paula?"

"She's a cheerleader, annoying but cute."

"I heard that," Darlene said as she put a plastic table cloth on the picnic table.

"Check that out," Robbie said, saving me the trouble of getting my foot out of my mouth. Tami and the girls were coming down the road toward the campsite and leading about seventy-five people of all ages.

"I think it may be time to sing for our supper," I said.

Kelly came running ahead and launched herself from about fifty feet away, sailed through the air and landed on my lap. Okay, it was about six feet but it was still an impressive leap.

Unfortunately, the chair didn't think so.

I'm not sure which hit first, my back as I went over backwards or my butt as the chair disintegrated beneath me. I do know that I had a sudden insight into what outer space was really like because there was no air in my lungs, and I couldn't seem to make any come in.

Kelly was sitting, stunned, on my lap, and the others were all standing around me looking like angels with that halo effect you get when you look at something framed in bright sunlight.

"Are you okay?

"Tony!"

"What happened?"

"Can you breathe?"

"Do you need a doctor?"

I didn't know who said what and really didn't care. I forced myself to relax and took a small sip of air, then a bigger one, then a normal one. It wasn't the first time I'd had the wind knocked out of me, but I still hate that feeling of fighting for air.

I pushed myself up on an elbow and looked at Kelly. "That's coming out of your allowance."

The concert was a success. I think it was our best yet. The acoustics helped. Hole-in-the-Wall is surrounded by volcanic rock walls. We added one song off my new CD. Robbie and I sang Olivia Newton-John's Let's Get Physical and had Kelly and Traci put on a little tumbling demonstration while we sang.