Mayhem stood at the megaphone, trumpet in hand, sounding the morning wake-up call. He loved the job, even if no one else did. When he finished, Curtis took over on the camp’s amplifier.
“Attention Campers. If you’re going on the horseback riding trip, please meet us at the Arapahoe corral in five minutes.”
The campers quickly grabbed their belongings from their cabins and, in no time, were mounted on their assigned horses and riding out, with Curtis and Cheri leading the way.
“Beautiful day for a ride, everyone. Let’s make sure we stay together,” Curtis reminded.
“When are we going to be there?” Stephanie asked with a complaining child’s tone.
“You can still see the camp behind us, Stephanie. It’s going to be awhile. Try to enjoy the ride itself,” Cheri suggested.
“Allan, how’s your horse?” Yvette asked, looking back to see if she held Allan’s gaze, but Mayhem was watching.
“Allan, I’m talking to you!” Yvette insisted as she slowed down to confront him. But Mayhem got in her way by cutting her off.
“Why do I have the feeling, Mayhem, that this is your doing?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Mayhem responded.
Allan yelled up to Yvette, “It’s not Mayhem’s fault. I lost a bet. He doesn’t want me to talk to you anymore.”
“A bet? You made a bet over me? How dare you!”
“Who?” Allan asked.
“Both of you!” Yvette yelled back.
“What is going on back there?” Curtis asked. “Don’t make me pull over.”
In the front of the pack, Demarco vied for Cheri’s attention, “Those boys are so immature. Don’t you think Cheri?”
“Well, I do need a mature man in my life,” Cheri entertained his suggestion.
Demarco smiled and gloated in Stephanie's direction.
Cheri continued, “… though preferably a man with a driver’s license and a job.”
Demarco’s smile fell from his face.
Cheri yelled to the group, “Everyone, let’s trot!”
Allan and Yvette had just reconnected with a smile when Mayhem, determined to interfere, slapped Allan’s horse in the ass. The horse bolted like Seabiscuit up the trail, and Allan, with no control, quickly found himself far ahead of the group.
“Mayhem!” Curtis snapped, galloping off to catch up with Allan, who had vanished.
“Sorry!” Mayhem yelled from behind.
Allan’s horse veered off the main road, charging through narrow, wooded paths. Allan grew anxious, unsure how to return or be found. Finally, the horse stopped in an open field to graze on an endless supply of green grass. He was, however, relieved that they were no longer racing through the woods.
“Ronin, we are lost. I’m not supposed to let you eat, but its better than you killing me.”
Allan grabbed his canteen, burning his hand on the hot metal container. He took a swig of the now warm water. He jumped at a sharp, screeching cry that, to his imagination, was a cross between a hawk and a pterodactyl, and it scared the hell out of him.
“Ronin, we need to find out way back.”
He kicked the horse, but he didn’t move until all of the grass was eaten. Allan then heard another noise.
“Come on damn it!
“Allan!”
Curtis appeared from the woods. “Are you okay?”
“I am happy to see you, but let’s get out of there! Where am I?”
Curtis responded, “We’ll meet the others at the hilltop. We’ll be setting up for the night.”
Later, at the base of the hill, Curtis and Allan approached and joined the others, creating a makeshift corral, a series of ropes circling trees to contain the horses. Allan watched the others already carrying tents, sleeping bags, and wood up the hill.
Curtis dismounted his horse and then helped Allan.
“Welcome back, Allan,” said Cheri, “Look for Smitty at the top of the hill. You two are sharing a tent together.”
Allan stood horrified at the idea, “Do I have to?”
“Yes,” Cheri insisted, “everyone else already paired off.”
Allan walked up the hill, wondering how his smelly tent-mate was going to work out. He passed Yvette and Stephanie setting up their tent, then saw Smitty struggling on his own to install their tent.
“There you are! I need your help! Have you put together a tent before?” Smitty asked.
“No.”
Allan glanced at Demarco, “Do you want to trade places, Demarco, and share with Smelly?”
“No way!” Demarco yelled.
“Good luck, Allan!” Mayhem laughed.
“You son of a bitch!” Allan leaped towards Mayhem, knocking him down and starting to swing, as Mayhem blocked his face nonchalantly. But Allan did manage to connect with Mayhem several times with little impact.
“Allan! Stop!” Curtis yelled.
“Sorry, I didn’t know the horse was going to do that. Really,” Mayhem admitted to Allan.
“Mayhem, you knew this was coming. Though frankly, I didn’t know Allan that it in him,” Demarco laughed.
“Allan, enough!” Yvette yelled.
Curtis pulled Allan off Mayhem.
“All bets are off, Mayhem,” Allan declared, looking at Yvette for approval.