The first night was most certainly the worst. After a ten minute magic show which involved Simon being forced to pull a rope of handkerchiefs from his coat, break an egg into his hat, and pretend to decapitate his thumb (he really wasn't sure how that one fooled his Ghost), Perform This Way had shot off like a rocket. Leaving Simon alone. Of course actually sleeping was no better, as they all shared a single tent, and Simon had to utilize his trusted politeness strategy of scrunching up his body to occupy as little room as possible. It was not comfortable, and it was also awkward, as Simon was typically the sort of fella to not even give someone a pat on the back without asking if it was alright first. Going from that to sleeping in a tent during the cold of a desert night with three other people was like whiplash.
Of course, Simon had to adjust quick. He wanted to win the race to exorcise his scary ghost, and use the rest of the money to settle down somewhere quiet. And despite being terrified, he certainly wasn't lazy. Simon knew the only way to get what you wanted was to work towards that goal. So here he was, working. It was day three now, Perform This Way had returned yesterday and informed Simon that Donny was safe. When asked where he was, Perform This Way explained that Simon never told him to bring him back. It figured that he would get the Ghost that operated via extremely specific word choice.
But while Donny's confirmed survival and the group gradually warming up to each other (and being less intimidating overall) were both massive reliefs to Simon, he couldn't bring himself to speak up this particular morning. It was a silly reason, Simon knew. But something was eating at him real bad. The whole area felt too darn familiar. The desert itself was already putting him on edge, but now that it was getting rockier and rockier he couldn't help but compare it to that horrid place he got lost in a few years back. Where Cecilia had saved his bacon, but the stress and trauma were so much he quit his job on the spot. The event that got him haunted in the first place, no doubt by one of the ghosts that perished in that desert.
Of course, Simon knew that the place he had nearly died in was a totally different desert, after all, they didn't just up and move across country. But that didn't prevent him from noticing similarities. Similarities that caused him to act extra cautious, and those actions were certainly causing annoyance towards everyone else. Simon had been going on about making sure everyone stayed extra hydrated and ensuring their horses were well-rested all day. He didn't mean to be so overbearing, but Simon really did not want these fellas to experience what was basically a do-si-do with heat death. It wasn't the type of dance you oughta do at any sort of get together.
He was drawn out of his thoughts by Jules stopping her singing, quite honestly the singing was welcome background noise, it helped distract Simon from his thoughts, but his brain was apparently quick to adapt, since he had managed to get distracted from being distracted and ended up getting nervous anyway. Regardless, he paused to let Jules' words sink in. They were lost? THEY WERE LOST IN A SCARY DESERT!?
"HHHHHHHHOooowie! It sure is mighty hot out. D'you think it's hotter than yesterday? It's all startin' ta blend together for me." Simon was midway through his scream of fear when he managed to transfer that energy into an incredibly mundane statement. His sweat was half from the heat, and half from fear. The panicked 'friendly' look on his face failed to hide his concern. If they were lost in a desert, then it was Simon's worst day ever all over again.
Of course, in his panic, Simon failed to acknowledge that Jules was merely questioning if they were lost. It wasn't that they were absolutely, most definitely lost.