Cassandra and April had changed for dinner. It was a tradition on Brendan and Joe's crew to have a "gown plant" one day every season. On Gown Plant day, everyone had to wear dresses while working. Most people hit the charity shops at the start of the season and bought the most flamboyant outfit they could find. Cassandra was wearing a canola yellow prom dress with a white petticoat. She had a garland of plastic white and red roses in her hair. April wore a turquoise sheath dress and a Greek fisherman's cap. Both wore thick woollen tights and rubber boots as a consolation to the weather.
The dining tent had a whiteboard that hung above the lunch table. It displayed how many days were left in the contract, how many trees had been planted to date, the day's menu, and anything else the foremen or cooks needed to pass on to the planters. Cassandra had erased all the messages and had written in large letters, "Please note that Fancy Dress is required for tonight's Dinner." She had decorated it with drawings of hearts and flowers and martini glasses.
There were about 40 planters in total in the camp. About half of these were in the dining tent and most of these had got the gown-plant spirit. Matt wore nothing but an orange boob-tube, a kilt, and rubber boots. Paul hadn't brought anything for gown plant day. He had improvised by making himself a skirt out of streamers of blue and red flagging tape. He sat on a kitchen box near the lunch table. Kathy knelt on the box beside him. She applied lipstick carefully to Paul's lips. She wore the same ladybug miniskirt she always wore planting but had spruced herself up by wearing Amber's best bra outside of a tight flesh-coloured tee shirt. The effect was striking, at least from a distance.
The need to concentrate on fashion meant that that there was an abnormally long line for the shower and a much shorter line than normal for dinner. April had put a number of cartons of juice out on the lunch table for mixer. Matt stood next to Paul and Kathy. He ate lasagne from a plastic plate and had a battered flask of rye whiskey wedged in his boob-tube.
"Can I have some of that?" asked Paul.
"Sure, what's your pleasure?" said Matt. He picked up one of the cartons. "Rye and orange juice? Rye and apple juice? Rye and cranberry?"
"I'll have a rye and apple," said Paul. "Make it a double."
"Coming right up," said Matt. He put his plate down, and pulled the flask out of his top. He poured a glug of rye into a mug and filled it up with apple juice. "Wise choice, but don't ignore the cranberry juice. Rye and cranberry juice is nowhere near as terrible as you might imagine."
Kathy put the top back on her lipstick and stuck it back in the Duke's of Hazzard lunch box she used for her toiletries. "Personally," said Kathy. "I think I'll stick with beer."
Both Matt and Paul shook their heads. "Beer is just not efficient for camp life," said Paul.
"It's too bulky," said Matt.
"Exactly," said Paul. "It's only about 5% alcohol. You want hard liquor. Rye or Vodka or Rum. Something that you can mix with anything."
"This rule," said Matt, "is vital if you're ever on a helicopter job. You're only allowed so much luggage by weight in this company. You have to make it count."
"All I know is that I'd rather have a beer than a rye and cranberry juice," said Kathy.
"Don't knock it until you've tried it," said Matt. "I promise - elixir of the Gods." To prove the point he poured himself a rye and cranberry juice and took a drink. "Perfection," he said. He stuffed the flask back in the boob-tube.
"Isn't that cold?" asked Kathy.
"Absolutely fucking freezing," said Matt. "But you of all people should know you've got to suffer to look beautiful."
"I don't suffer," she said. "I just am beautiful."
"That you are," he said. "That bra looks great. If I had breasts like yours I wouldn't need to stuff my top with cold metal things."
Joe drove up to the camp. He could hear the music from the dining tent over the noise of the engine. Alistair and Cameron finished the rest of their beer in the truck. When he was done, Alistair reached over and crushed his empty beer can around the steering wheel.
"For luck," he said. He and Cameron got out of the truck and walked to the dryshack.
Joe stayed in the truck and peeled the beer can off the steering wheel. He rolled the window down and tossed it behind him into the bed of the truck. He rolled the window up again. He checked the mirror. No sign of Brendan and Lucy yet. He crossed his arms and leaned his head back against the seat. There was no point in getting out of the truck until he knew they'd got back to camp safely.
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