Rootin' Down The Highway - 8. New York JFK Airport

“Wanna go over to Starbucks and get something to drink, mate?” Buck had been a constant by my side during the weeks in America. Over the past few days he, and to a degree the Furballs, had been especially attentive towards me. Something was up, I wasn’t sure what, but I had a long flight back to Oz to figure it out. In the meantime, I needed caffeine in my system!

“Sure, Brett. Hey, Furballs, want some tea or coffee?”

“Nah, nothing for me.”

“Nope, I’m fine.”

“I’m okay also, Buck. Thanks for asking.”

I looked back at the Furballs as Buck and I walked into the shop, and saw them with their heads close together talking to each other. Those boys were definitely up to no good. I loved them to death, but sometimes it was like running around with schoolboys. As we walked back to the waiting lounge, I noticed all three looking at us, deviously smiling. Yup they were all up to something.

“Okay, what are you guys up to? You better not be planning to embarrass us in public again.” I was suspicious as hell of them, and since Buck was the one walking with me to the coffee shop, he was the right one to interrogate.

“Brett! Such mistrust in your mates. Is that any way to think of us?” Buck looked at me with a sneaky smile and puppy dog eyes as he spoke up in defense of his band mates.

“Bloody right it is. It seems you’re in on whatever mischief they’re up to. I don’t like being the odd man out, so you better start talking. What’s up?”

“Funny you should put it that way. Odd… man… out… That’s exactly what the four of us discussed, and what we want to talk to you about.” There was now warmth in Buck’s voice. The teasing tone was entirely gone. “We’ve enjoyed how you’ve taken care of us during this trip. I think it would be great to have you around all the time, and the Furballs agree. We’d like to offer you the opportunity to be our manager on a permanent basis.”