Harry turned to him, still smiling and shaking his head. 'Can I help you?'
'I hope so. But I warn you in advance, I know nothing about guns.'
Harry shrugged. 'There's a law you should? Is it for someone else? For Christmas?'
'Yes, that's just right,' he said, seizing on it. 'I've got this cousin-Nick, his name is. Nick Adams. He lives in Michigan and he's got yea guns. You know. Loves to hunt, but it's more than that. It's sort of a, well, a-'
'Hobby?' Harry asked, smiling.
'Yes, that's it.' He had been about to say
IF GUNS ARE OUTLAWED, ONLY OUTLAWS WILL HAVE GUNS
He smiled at Harry and said, 'That's very true, you know.
'Sure it is,' Harry said. 'This cousin of yours . . .'
'Well, it's kind of a one-upmanship type of thing. He knows how much I like boating and I'll be damned if he didn't up and give me an Evinrude sixty-horsepower motor last Christmas. He sent it by REA express. I gave him a hunting jacket. I felt sort of like a horse's ass.'
Harry nodded sympathetically.
'Well, I got a letter from him about six weeks ago, and he sounds just like a kid with a free pass to the circus. It seems that he and about six buddies chipped in together and bought themselves a trip to this place in Mexico, sort of like a freefire zone-'
'A no-limit hunting preserve?'
'Yeah, that's it.' He chuckled a little. 'You shoot as much as you want. They stock it, you know. Deer, antelope, bear, bison. Everything.'
'Was it Boca Rio?'
'I really don't remember. I think the name was longer than that.'
Harry's eyes had gone slightly dreamy. 'That guy that just left and myself and two others went to Boca Rio in 1965. I shot a zebra. A goddam zebra! I got it mounted in my game room at home. That was the best time I ever had in my life, bar none. I envy your cousin.'
'Well, I talked it over with my wife,' he said, 'and she said go ahead. We had a very good year at the laundry. I work at the Blue Ribbon Laundry over in Western. '
'Yes, I know where that is.'
He felt that he could go on talking to Harry all day, for the rest of the year, embroidering the truth and the lies into a beautiful, gleaming tapestry. Let the world go by. Fuck the gas shortage and the high price of beef and the shaky ceasefire. Let there be talk of cousins that never were, right, Fred? Right on, Georgie.
'We got the Central Hospital account this year, as well as the mental institution, and also three new motels.'
'Is the Quality Motor Court on Franklin Avenue one of yours?'
'Yes, it is.'
'I've stayed there a couple of times,' Harry said. 'The sheets were always very clean. Funny, you never think about who washes the sheets when you stay at a motel.'
'Well, we had a good year. And so I thought, maybe I can get Nick a rifle and a pistol. I know he's always wanted a .44 Magnum, I've heard him mention that one-'
Harry brought the Magnum up and laid it carefully on top of the glass case. He picked it up. He liked the heft of it. It felt like business.
He put it back down on the glass case.
'The chambering on that-' Harry began.
He laughed and held up a hand. 'Don't sell me. I'm sold. An ignoramus always sells himself. How much ammunition should I get with that?'
Harry shrugged. 'Get him ten boxes, why don't you? He can always get more. The price on that gun is two- eighty-nine plus tax, but I'm going to give it to you for two-eighty, ammo thrown in. How's that?'
'Super,' he said, meaning it. And then, because something more seemed required, he added: 'It's a handsome piece.'
'If it's Boca Rio, he'll put it to good use.'
'Now the rifle-'
'What does he have?'
He shrugged and spread his hands. 'I'm sorry. I really don't know. Two or three shotguns, and something he calls an auto-loader-'
'Remington?' Harry asked him so quickly that he felt afraid; it was as if he had been walking in waist-deep water that had suddenly shelved off.
'I think it was. I could be wrong.'
'Remington makes the best,' Harry said, and nodded, putting him at ease again. 'How high do you want to go?'
