“You never know. There’s lots of good wholesome farm boys out there.”
“I guess.” I smirk. “We do need a vet.”
“That’s the spirit.” She links her arm through mine, and we begin to walk to the house. “Or a diesel mechanic would come in handy. Those damn tractors are high maintenance.”
I giggle. “True.”
“A fencer would be great,” she adds.
I laugh. I imagine bringing some poor unsuspecting man home and my father making him build fences for days.
“Let’s go buy you some date dresses.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” I act offended.
We both look down at my tight jeans, checked shirt, and steel-capped boots covered in cow doo. “I’m the epitome of high fashion, Mom.” I put my hands on my hips and do a little sashay.
She widens her eyes. “Not really Spanish, though, are they?”
CHRISTOPHER
“And this is it, the BlackWolf Nomad.” The salesman smiles proudly. “The bees’ knees of backpacks.”
I stare at the huge oversize backpack.
“Thank you, we’ll let you know if we need any help with it,” Elliot replies.
The salesman walks off, and I unzip the pack. “Zipper works well.”
“I don’t see how anyone could possibly walk around with that shit on their backs,” Elliot whispers. “What would it weigh when filled? Like, twenty kilograms?”
“Probably.”
“See if there’s one with wheels?”
“I don’t want to look like a wimp, wheeling my bag when everyone else is carrying theirs.”
“Everyone else is an idiot.”
“I don’t want to stand out.”
Elliot chuckles as he stares at the bag. “Trust me, a bag is the least of your stand-out issues.”
I go to another bag and pick it up. I start to go through all the little compartments. In the bottom there’s a little tray. I take it out and hold it up as I look at it. “What’s this for?”
“Hmm.” Elliot takes it from me and turns it over as he looks at it. “A dish?”
“Bit shallow for a dish. Wouldn’t be much of a breakfast, would it?”
The salesman walks back over. “That’s the toilet.”
I stare at him as my brain misfires. “The what?”
“That’s the pan.” He shrugs. “You know, for when you need to take a shit in the woods.”
Elliot throws the pan back onto the bag as if it burned his fingers. “He’s going backpacking, not feral.”
The salesman laughs. “You two haven’t been backpacking before, have you?”
Elliot and I glance at each other but remain silent.
“If you’re stuck in a crowded place and you can’t find a bathroom, go in this pan and empty it when you can. It’s easy as.”
I frown as I stare at this feral animal. “Nothing about that sounds easy as.”
“What? You think he’s going to put it back in his bag dirty?” Elliot snaps, horrified.
The salesman shrugs happily. “It’s an option.”
“That I won’t be taking,” I mutter dryly as I walk away from this animal.