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Show Fair Forever 122 look puny in.comparison. I lean back against the door and cross my arms, wondering if I should tell my mom. After a minute, the man from the boat walks up the ramp, tipping his ball cap. "I'm Jack Goldman," he says, holding out his hand. "Bradley Gifford," I offer. The man's hand is large and calloused. He slips out his wallet. "Can I offer you something for your trouble?" "No thanks. It was fun," I say. Then I cringe because I sound like a kid. "Nice truck." . "You think?" The man steps back and takes an assessment. "I'm still trying to decide. They make a bigger model and I might trade up." I nod like I'm thinking the same thing, like I know all about trucks. "You'll need to adjust your seat,". I say. "I had to move it up." The man takes a quick measure with his eyes. "What were you studying back there? You looked like you were staring a hole clean through the lighthouse. Planning to ride your bike over?" "My skiff. I'm planning to row." "No kidding?" The man pushes back his cap and turns to stare across the bay. "How far is that.... three miles round trip?" "Seven miles from my house.'' He whistles. "Seven miles! How long do you figure that would take?" I shove my hands in my pockets. "Better part of a day.. I plan to rest at the light." Mr. Goldman sizes me up again. "How old are you?" I exaggerate. "Going on fifteen." |