The shoebox Johnny gives to Jason is the island’s only export, Swan Silver, what they’re cooking upstairs at the Psychedelicatessen, a hybrid of AK-47 and White Widow. Hydroponic, organic, anti-inflammatory, and, apparently, better than Sudoku for the early signs of Alzheimer’s. I did a spit-take when they first told me it fetches twenty dollars a gram. But then they let me try it.

They keep the growing discreet, a concession to the Swans who feel antsy about the whole thing. Nobody really expects a bunch of sweet old-timers to get raided, but the world they’ve made for themselves is too precious to expose to the whims of cops. So they keep the operation small. Only a few plants, but it’s enough to make sure that even when a market blip drains someone’s pension, or a member of someone’s family needs to get buried back in the Bad Place, everyone has what they need. Jason collects the stock, sells it on the mainland, and brings back the proceeds. This cash fills up Swan Bank every month, and the money there is free. No questions asked. That is, if you’re old enough.

Johnny draws a half-cup gulp of his coffee and drawls, “Right, you bad little tadpole. What’ve you got for us this fine summer’s day?”

Jason pulls a good-size Tupperware container out of his backpack. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something you can handle, Grandpa.”

“Can I box his ears now?” Suzie asks me.

Until she says that I thought everyone had forgotten that I was there. And since when do I make decisions about Jason’s ears? Maybe it’s because we’ve been doing this for a while, and the past few times they’ve seen Jason I’ve always been with him. The moment starts to feel like a totally weird double date, but I don’t not like it.

“Be my guest—saves me having to do it.” When you have no idea what to say, and out of nowhere comes a little one-liner that makes everyone laugh, God should congratulate you. Not that it was even funny, really, but Suzie Q laughs her big-smile laugh and Johnny nudges Jason. It’s been ages since I’ve felt this relaxed.

“’Atta girl.”

But Johnny really just wants Jason to open up the box and get down to business. “Did you get any more of those nice Ecuadorian shrooms in?”

“Didn’t manage it, but I’ve got some High Hawaiians I think you’ll like even better.” He pushes some baggies and brown plastic bottles aside and pulls out a brown paper bag. Johnny opens it quickly with his big, callused fingers and takes a whiff. His eyebrows do a little dance in time with his laugh.

“Boy, I think you’re onto something with that!”