44

Uncle Lou settles next to you with a jar of olives, a jar of pickled eggs, and a half full sleeve of saltine crackers.

"This place is becoming a ghost town. Pretty soon we'll see tumble sauce in here," Uncle Lou says as he munches on a fistful of crackers.

"Do you mean tumble weeds? Or tumblesault?"

"What did I say?" he asks with his eye brows raised and a look of confusion.

"You said tumble sauce, like something you pour on pasta."

"No, I mean those bushy things that roll on the ground in the Old West. Tumble salts."

Having no energy to correct the man, you continue your meal.

"Let's go outside. I want to talk and do some hunting. Kinda."