Looking up from the instructions, the guy said, “You’d think after all the shit I seen and done over the years, I’d be able to outsmart a fucking tent. You ever set one of these up?”

“I have. Just get one of the poles extended and locked in, and we’ll start working it through the sleeves.”

The father, a short, fit-looking man, said, “Roger that. I just gotta find them first.”

“They’re in the parachute-looking pouch there about a foot and a half long.”

Hank pointed, and the dad’s eyes lit up. “Ah, I see. If it was a snake, it woulda’ bit me.” Untying the pouch, he handed one of the little bundles of wands to Hank, who shook it loose and watched the elastic shock cord pull the wands together into a single tent pole. Hunter and the guy’s son spread the tent out on the ground and staked down the corners while Hank and the father assembled the other two fiberglass poles. The father said to Hank, “Thanks for walking over.”

Hank told him, “Don’t mention it.”

As Hank worked a pole through the sleeves from one side of the tent to the other, he told the father, “We’ll do this with all of them. They’ll cross over the top, create a frame of support—surprisingly strong, even in a windstorm.”

“Makes sense,” the dad replied. “Did something similar years ago in boot camp. But we was a company of soldiers. Had less complications to worry about—just the DI, really.”

Hank said, “Sorry to interrupt your camping. Never introduced myself.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Hank, and this is my son, Hunter.”

The father smiled, shook his hand. “I encourage the interruption. Name’s Sid, and this is my boy, Travis. I really appreciate the gesture. My dad never did anything with me when I’s growing up, and I thought I should start taking Travis camping and fishing. Get him out of the house. Thought it’d be good for both of us. I work so damn much, ain’t enough hours in the day.”

“I hear that. Nothing wrong with exposing your boy to the outdoors. Better late than never is what I say. Let’s get the other poles in, and you’ll be set.”

As they threaded the other two tent poles through their sleeves, Hank said, “So you from around the area?”

“Yeah, I’m a car mechanic down at Kitterman’s garage. You?”

“Sales. I’m on the road all week, travel all over the country. I try to get some time in with Hunter when I can.”

“That’s good. So, a real outdoorsman, I’m guessing?”

“Not as much as I’d like, but mostly, yeah. My father owns a farm not far from here. You ever hunt?”