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JIM EASED DOWN THE STAIRS and turned down Main Street, towards Johnson’s Bait. The fishing equipment was located in the back, groceries in front. He saw what he was looking for ? knee-high rubber boots. He picked up a pair. Mr. Johnson asked him if he could help.
“Yes, sir. I need a pair of boots. How do you tell the size?”
“Turn the boots upside down, the size is printed on the instep. What size do you need?”
“Nine and a half or ten.”
“These only come in even numbers, so you’ll need a ten.”
“Do these come in boxes?”
“These come just like you see them, tied together” — Mr. Johnson said.
Jim found a pair of size eleven and set them aside. He then saw a pair of all rubber-fishing waders. They were the kind with no boots, really just rubber socks. You would need to wear tennis shoes to prevent them from getting holes from rocks.
“How much are these gumboots?”
“Son, I hate to see you waste your money. Any briar you hit going into the creek will put holes in them. That’s my last pair. I won’t let that salesman bring any more in here. If you really want them, how about an even $7.00?”
“I’ll take ‘em.”
“What else can I get you?”
“Do you have a compass?”
“No, why do you need a compass?”
“To keep me from getting lost! I’m new to these mountains.”
“Everyone knows if you get lost in these mountains just walk downhill until you find a stream and follow it until it comes to a road.”
“I’ll remember that, but I’d feel better with a compass. Used one when I was a Boy Scout.”
“Well, the only place in town to find one would be Lovell’s 5 & 10 or Mull Department Store. Mull’s sells Boy Scout uniforms and equipment. Only scouts use compasses around here.”
Jim paid for his equipment and left, thanking Mr. Johnson for his advice.
By the time he had walked back to town, Lovell’s and the department store were closed and he decided to pick up the other items during lunch on Friday ?so far, so good.
The next day when he was making the coffee run for Mike he called Billy Bob to check on his rifle. The same secretary answered and before she could ask the question: “I need to talk to Billy Bob about hunting.”
“I’ll put you through.”
He identified himself when Billy Bob answered and asked if he had visited Kurt.
“Yeah. I’ve got your toy in the trunk of my car.”
“Great! Would you mind keeping it for me for a while?”
“No problem. Why don’t we go out Saturday and zero the scope?”
“That would be wonderful. I can meet you at the jail around 1:30 p.m. I need to buy some ammo. Where can I get 30-06 shells?”
“Western Auto, directly across from McKinney’s Café. If you’d like, I can pick up a box for you.”
“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”
“I’m going there in a few minutes to get more ammo for my .243 anyway.”
“Thanks. Would you get me a box of 180 grams 30-06?”
“Wow! Going top of the line, huh?”
“I hear deer are really hard to kill and I want a bullet that’ll knock ‘em down.”
“Well, 180 grams will do that all right, but with your light rifle it’s going to kick like hell” —Billy Bob said with some self-confidence.
“See you Saturday afternoon at 1:30” — Jim said. “Have a good one.”
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