“I mean, he didn’t get so much as a nibble from a bream,” Moody swore. “Not a nibble. I swear we could of put in a order for a shark and he would of caught it.”

“That’s about the truth,” Peavo said. “I know one thing, I’d pay up front to see it again.”

“Me and you both, and at double the price,” Moody added. “If you boys think Littleberry Davis can fish, you don’t know nothing. Littleberry don’t know how to bait a hook if you put him up against Noah Locke, and don’t get me wrong, I like Littleberry. Nothing against him. He just can’t fish with that boy.”

“Well, he’s itching to find out,” a man said. “I seen him early this morning.” The man made a snickering laugh. “He acted like he didn’t believe a word about all the talk he’s been hearing. Said Peavo and Moody would lie about the coming of Jesus, if they thought it would make a nickel for them.”

“He’s scared, that’s all,” Peavo said happily. “He’s just plain scared. I guarantee you one thing, come Saturday, Littleberry might as well give his sign-up money straight to Noah. Fact of the matter, same goes with everybody here. I’ll lay down even money right now that Noah wins the take-home prize by five pounds.” He paused, looked at Moody, then added, “Shoot, make it ten.”

“That’s a lot of fish,” one of the men said.

“He could of throwed back that much yesterday if he’d fished another ten minutes,” Peavo vowed.

“Goda’mighty, Peavo, nobody’s that good,” the man said. “Know what that sounds like? Sounds like that story old John Cassidy told about that catfish he caught over on the Chatuge. Remember that? Said it was so big he had to tie it off on a tree and go home and get his mule to pull it in.”

And the crowd laughed, remembering old John Cassidy’s tale, and they settled on the porch and porch steps of the store, drinking their cola drinks, talking, their merry noise wrapping around the store, making its way up the ladder to Noah. It was the kind of sound Noah liked and he half-wished he was sitting among the men and boys to hear close-up the tales they were telling. It would be uncomfortable, though, since much of the talk would be about him, and most of what was being said would be colored by Peavo and Moody trying to outdo one another.