“Negatory.”

“You know you’re in the salt-water section, right Jim?” I said. “’Cause that watch you’re wearing ain’t a diver.”

Jim grimaced, glancing down at the hunk of scrap-metal on his wrist. “The guy said it was.”

“The guy was lying. The humidity in my bathroom would rust out that hunk of pig iron.”

“So now you’re a watch expert?”

“Always have been, Jim.”

He put his hand in his pocket, concealing the watch, and scrunched his face. “Anyways, we’re in the early stages of the trip. Just plannin’.”

“Does the plan involve spending any money in here?”

Jim looked at me with something that resembled sanctimony. “Yeah. I am,” he said. “You finish that Alpha-male Boom Train?”

I snorted. “Alpha-Boom-Train, Jim.” I reached over and grabbed the custom fly, held it up for him to see.

His eyes brightened and he zombie-shuffled toward the front, hands scrounging in his pockets. “How much?”

“Thirty-five.”

His face went redder than a crested macaque’s ass.²⁷ “Thirty!”

“Jiiiiiim,” I said, drawing the word out. “I said thirty-five.”

“No way I’m paying that.”

“I’ll sell you a box of sparkle worms from the kids rack for six instead if you want to be a cheap-ass. I thought you wanted to catch big boy fish.”

“What’d Winston pay?”

“A million dollars. This one is thirty-five.”

That put him over. Face red and puffed with anger, he headed for the door. “You got a lot of G-D nerve, kid.”

“Did you just say ‘G-D’? I think we found the alpha male.”

He was gone.

Truth was, I could sell the fly online for a whole lot more than thirty-five bucks. It was brilliant and beautifully crafted. It was just that out here in the middle of nowhere folks were cheap – even the fly fishermen, who’d take out a second mortgage if they thought it would get them a few more strikes. Didn’t matter what you were selling. If they could get a reasonable facsimile made of Styrofoam and asbestos at the dollar place, you’d lose the sale. I’d sell it online for real money later. I wrapped it in a baggie and shoved it into a pocket.

The door kicked open. Patton. I glanced at my watch. Eleven a.m. He was up early.

“Ahoy, matey!”

“It’s nearly lunchtime,” I said. “Did you bring me a snack?”

“Hey, slow down bromine, I just got here.” He grinned and looked around. “What was your question?”

“Did. You. Bring. Me. A. Snack?”

“Oh, no. Sorry. Aunt Lisa and I were baked all morning. We went deep in this marathon Simon sesh and – hey are those real shark teeth?” He flicked one of the cheesy necklaces Owner Jim insisted on offering for sale.

“No.”

“Aw.”

“Take one. It’s yours.”

“Really?” he said, slipping one from the display, legitimately happier than I’d ever seen him.

“No one else has ever bought one. You’ll be a trendsetter.”

He threw it on, considered his reflection.

“So, look,” I said. “I’m going out to Susank tonight.”