Chapter 17

“You seem to know camping,” I say.

“That I do.”

“A city boy?”

He laughs. “City boys take vacations. Earl took us camping a week every summer. I can fish, too.”

“Spare me.”

He gathers large stones to make a fire pit, has me collect wood, and soon we’re roasting hot dogs. He’s brought mustard, buns, and potato salad.

“What else is in there?” I ask, pointing to one of the coolers.

“Wine, nicely chilled. It’s for later.

Over dinner, I tell him his choice of food was ideal. “Ballpark fare.”

“What else?”

We stuff ourselves and have one beer each, saving up for wine. The day begins to fade, cooling as we picnic on the sleeping bag.

“Almost nice enough to sleep under the stars,” Tommy notes.

“You think?” I hadn’t considered it, but like the sound. “Long as you don’t take off on me again.”

“We zip the two sleeping bags together and get naked under the stars.”

“And if a bear comes calling?”

“There’s the tent.”