I had my usual reaction to riding in a motor vehicle out in the countryside; I spaced out. For some reason I would carefully look at the passing countryside to such an extent that I would block out pretty much everything else. So I actually jumped when Jamie put her hand on my shoulder.

"Whoa, didn't mean to startle you," she said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, no problem," I answered. "Sorry for spacing out on you like that."

"I was going to offer you a penny for your thoughts but that would be a pretty lowball offer."

"I don't think my thoughts are worth all that much," I said.

"Now, don't be like that-"

"No, she's right," Bill said, interrupting Jamie. "Strictly speaking from a monetary viewpoint, her opinion isn't worth much money. Neither is yours or mine. Law of supply and demand. Everyone has an opinion and most people are happy to share theirs free of charge. So, effectively there is a glut of opinions on the market. The end result is that the opinion and thoughts of the average person is worth zero."

"Okay, what about Warren Buffett?"

"In what way is Warren Buffett an average person?" Bill asked Jamie. "If one of us happened to be a billionaire investor then yes, I would say our opinion would be worth a considerable amount of money. But I don't see any billionaire investors in this vehicle. Do you?"

Jamie folded her arms across her chest, which had the effect of emphasizing her cleavage, and turned her head to the side in a display of mock indignation. "Huh, well, I know what I think your opinion is worth! Anyway, Ronnie, just to prove Mr. Genius here wrong I'm gonna pay you five bucks for your thoughts."

"That proves me wrong, how?" Bill said. "This is just you being stupid with your money."

"Shows how much you know," Jamie retorted. "Market forces are often driven by stupidity. If I'm willing to pay five bucks then her thoughts are worth five bucks at the very minimum. In this case I am the market and the market is willing to pay five bucks." She stuck her tongue out at him. "So there."

Ranalea laughed. "She's got you on that one, Bill."

"Now, Ronnie, about those thoughts of yours," Jamie said.

I knew she was making a joke but I wanted no part of her argument with Bill. "I forgot."

"You what?"

"I forgot," I repeated. "Your argument with Bill, well, I got distracted and totally forgot what I was thinking about."

"This certainly has been a marvellous conversation," Bill said, "but as it happens, we're here."

'Here' was a long dirt driveway that led to a large white two story farmhouse. In the yard in front of the house a number of tables had been set up. Mostly the tables seemed to be covered with the usual junk and knick knacks you typically find at yard and garage sales.

Finally Bill reached the end of the driveway and parked the truck. After getting out I stopped to stretch, I hadn't realized how cramped I had gotten from sitting in the back.

"Sure is nice to get out and stretch a little bit," Jamie said as she stood next me, also taking the opportunity to stretch out a bit. "Well, c'mon, since I just saved five bucks by not paying you five bucks I might as well spend it on something."

I looked over the items being offered. As I had surmised mostly the kind of things typically found as such sales. Small kitchen appliances; a blender, a coffee grinder, an electric carving knife and a very old percolator, a massive stainless steel affair with the glass bulb on top which looked like it would serve thirty to fifty cups of coffee.

Another table held a number of tools. I spotted several hammers, a cordless drill, a hand held rotary saw, a level and a small basket full of measuring tapes.

Of course one of the tables held the tableware that's required to be present at any yard/garage sale. Plates, pots and pans, silverware and glasses and mugs were all present in abundance. Since I had just moved in and hadn't brought a lot of tableware from home I decided that it would be a good chance to buy what I needed. The plastic tableware was both more sturdy than glass or stoneware and also cheaper.

However, I also found a 'left-handed' stoneware coffee mug. When held in one's left hand one could read the inscription of "A lefty in a right-handed world." When holding the mug in one's right hand the inscription read, "Left-handed mug! Use other hand."

"So you're a lefty, huh?" Jamie said.

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah," I said, still considering the mug.

"And here I am, thinking I'm so damn observant but I didn't didn't even notice that about you," she said.

"It's not a big deal," I said with a shrug. "I don't advertise it or anything."

"You should get it," she said.

"Huh? Oh, you mean the mug." I turned it around and over, inspecting it. "Guess it looks solid enough. Don't know if I really want it though. Seems like a vanity mug. I mean, who cares what my dominant hand is?"

"You're overthinking it," Jamie said. "It's just a fun little mug. Buying it isn't going turn you into Narcissus."

I made my decision. "Yeah, you're right. I'm being silly."

By this time someone came out of the farmhouse. An older gentleman who certainly looked like he was a farmer. He wore faded blue denim overalls and heavy leather works boots along with a baseball cap sporting the John Deere logo on the bill. "G'day. Busy day today, before you I've had several others stop by."

"Hope they didn't get anything too good," Bill said.

"Well, one fella bought himself some speakers and another bought my wife's old Singer sewing machine."

"Nothing I'm in the market for," Bill said, smiling. "Now, if you had a log splitter...."

"Do have," the farmer said. "Ain't sellin' though."

"Hey, Bill, check out what I found," Ranalea said, holding up a large wall clock.

"It appears to be a-" he made a show of closely inspecting it, "yes, I'm sure of it. This is a clock. Of sorts."

"Of course it's a clock, you dummy, what else would it be? Anyway, isn't it great?"

"I think the word you actually want is 'hideous'."

"What? No. It is most certainly not hideous." She made a direct appeal to Jamie and I. "C'mon girls, this is cool right."

"What about it is cool?" Bill demanded. "It looks like one of Salvador Dali's melted clocks."

"Well, duh! That's the whole idea!"

"It's a dumb idea," Bill said. "Dali was a gimmick painter. Melted clocks for fuck's sake. Who would even care except for the fact that people are too stupid to know better."

"Well, by those standards Picasso was a gimmick painter as well," Ranalea said.

"Picasso was a gimmick painter!" Bill retorted. "He couldn't paint a real painting to save his life so he had to invent cubism."

"You people are sure passionate about art," the farmer observed.

Jamie shook her head. "Mostly they're just passionate about arguing."

***

“So where next?” Bill asked when we got back on the road.

“You promised us lunch at The Pit,” Jamie reminded him.

Bill made a show of looking at the dashboard clock. “You’re hungry already?”

“Starving,” Jamie said. “Now c’mon, don’t deny a girl her daily allotment of thick juicy meat.” She turned to me and winked while licking her lips in a manner meant to be humorously lascivious.

“Can’t you ever act like a normal human being?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bill sighed the sigh of those fated to a lifetime of longsuffering. “Do you even think about how you affect those around you? Did you even bother to consider that you might be making Ronnie really uncomfortable?”

Jamie laughed in response. “What? My over-the-top sexual vamp act? Nah, she’s pretty immune.”

Ranalea cleared her throat. “You know, it’s pretty damn rude to talk about Ronnie like she’s not even here.” She twisted around her seat to look at me. “I apologize for these two. They’re good people but not always the smartest or particularly polite.”

“Oh no, not a problem,” I said as I waved off the apology. “Anyway, I’m not really bothered by...well, I’m not bothered by… it.”

Ranalea chuckled. “You might not be but Jamie sure is. Very bothered in a hot and bothered sort of way.”

“Ranalea,” Bill said, his voice soft but full of warning.

She took the hint. “Sorry, Jamie, I was out of line. Still, you shouldn’t tease people like that.”

“I’m sorry too,” Jamie said, her voice suddenly quiet. “I didn’t mean anything bad by it, Ronnie.”

I reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s fine. I know you were just having fun. I’m not upset or offended.”

“What they say is true afterall; friendship is magic,” Bill said.

I made a face. What an awful joke.

Jamie apparently had some mind-reading skills of her own. “From that sour look of yours I take it you are not a big fan?”

“What? Of My Little Pony? Of course not! Why?”

“Did you ever watch it?”

Watch a dumb kids show? As if. “Hell no. Why would I?”

“Well, why wouldn’t you?”

“Cause it’s a silly kids’ show.”

“So you won’t watch any silly kids’ shows, is that it?”

I considered the question. I had to admit my answer was bullshit. I watched Spongebob and that was the epitome of silly kids’ shows.

“Okay, you got me on that one,” I admitted. “I guess it’s too girly. Plus, talking ponies? Anyway, why do you even care? There’s no way you watch-”

“Heh, I knew you’d say that,” Jamie said. “But you’re wrong.”

I stared at her in disbelief. Of all the people I knew Jamie seemed like the one person who would absolutely despise such a silly girls’ cartoon. “You? Really?”

“It’s a fun show,” she said. “It’s corny as hell and a lot of kiddy grade morality tales about friendship, doing the right the thing and having tolerance and love for people who are different. But there’s a lot of good humor too.”

Was she trying to convert me into a MLP fan? I wasn’t thrilled by the idea. Something similar had happened a few years earlier when my friends were into Adventure Time and after watching a few episodes I told them I didn’t see the appeal. The humor seemed trite and forced, as if sheer random events were somehow funny. It seemed likie a cartoon designed to appeal to six year olds, not teenagers in high school.

My friends didn’t take my offered opinion with very much grace. In hindsight I should have kept my opinions to myself.

I was spared the necessity of pondering the question when Bill announced, “Okay, enough talk about sparkly donkeys. Lunch time.”

The Pit turned out to be a building built to look like a huge red barn complete with a towering brick silo. The parking lot was huge and while it wasn’t packed full it was certainly far from empty.

“We’re in luck today,” Bill said as he parked the truck. “We could actually find a spot without a problem.”

“This place is really popular huh?”

“You have no idea,” Jamie told me. “The food here is fucking awesome. Man, I can’t wait to wrap my lips around some nice thick juicy meat.”

Ranalea sighed. “Jamie, you’re doing it again.”

“Ah, sorry-”

“If you’re worried about me, it’s fine,” I said. “Jamie shouldn’t have to change how she acts just because I’m around.”

“It’s not like that exactly,” Jamie said. “They’re more worried about a repeat of something that happened in the past.”

“Can we not get into it right now?” Bill asked. “That’s a pretty long story and one you should discuss without an audience.”

Jamie nodded her acknowledgement. “You’re right. Ronnie, if you want to know I’ll tell you about it later.”

“It’s not really any of my business,” I said, shaking my head. “I mean, it sounds like this is something personal so I don’t want to stick my nose into your personal affairs.”

“I know what you’re say but I don’t mind if you know. I mean, it’s not a big secret or anything.”

Before I could respond Bill jumped in. “Hey, less talking and more walking.”

“You’re right,” Jamie said. “Sorry for running my mouth when I’m the one who insisted on having lunch now.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the restaurant. “C’mon, let’s eat!”

Inside I found out the reason for the name. The entire floor of the restaurant  was set into a big hole. Rows of barbeque pits ran the length of the building.

The place was bustling but our luck held and we were shown to a free barbeque pit. Each pit was flanked by at least two long picnic style tables. With just the four of us we didn’t even need half of a single table. 

Despite there only being the four of us both Jamie and Bill insisted on ordering a half ham. Luckily sanity, in the form of Ranalea, won out and instead we ordered a quarter ham. That was still about three pounds of meat. Not to mention a full baked potato per person as well as boiled cabbage and sauted carrots. It was like having a full-size Thanksgiving dinner.

“Isn’t this great!” Jamie said gleefully just before jamming a chunk of ham the size of my fist into her mouth.

I looked over at Ranalea and Bill. Like Jamie, Bill was demolishing the quarter ham with gusto. In stark contrast Ranalea was carefully cutting her share into small, neat squares before popping them into her mouth. She methodically chewed each piece before moving onto the next. Even eating she was extremely pretty. Even refined, something I found surprising. The coffee swilling, cigarette smoking Ranalea wasn’t someone I would think of as refined but watching her eat it was like I was seeing a completely different Ranalea.

Jamie was still Jamie though. Part of Jamie’s appeal was her extreme enthusiasm and seemingly boundless energy. Whatever she was eating at any given moment she made it look like she was eating the most delicious thing in the entire universe.

Jamie pointed her fork at the half of the baked potato I hadn’t eaten yet. “You gonna eat that?”

I was bemused by her apparently infinite appetite. “Help yourself.”

She stabbed the remainder of my baked potato. “Don’t mind if I do!” The baked potato was quickly followed by the boiled cabbage I hadn’t gotten around to finishing off. She wrinkled her nose at the carrots, refusing to eat any at all.

When we were finally finished she inspected my face, a bit too closely for comfort and I backed away. “Something wrong?”

“Just got a little smudge,” she replied as she tore open a wet towelette packet. I didn’t move when she dabbed at the corner of my mouth. Her own face looked as if a bottle of barbeque sauce had exploded all over it. “There we are, all taken care.”

“Now I’ve seen everything,” Bill said.

Jamie glared at Bill. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There’s a relavent quote from the Bible,” Ranalea said. “It goes like this; ‘Before plucking the mote from thy brother’s eye first remove the plank from thine own eye.’ Go to the bathroom and take a look in the mirror.”

“Huh?”

“Just go look,” Ranalea urged.

Jamie rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever.”

“That girl is a real handful,” Bill observed once Jamie was gone.

“She’s a nice girl though,” Ranalea said. “She means well.”

“Doesn’t stop her from being a pain in the ass,” Bill retorted. “I feel a bit bad for you, Ronnie. I have a feeling she’s going to up your ass all the time. If she gets annoying just tell her to fuck off.”

I shook my head. “She’s not annoying at all. I actually really like her.”

“You really like who?” Jamie asked from behind me.

“You,” I replied.

Jamie responded by wrapping me in a giant hug from behind. “Awww, that’s so sweet! I really like you too!”

***

The rest of the day was endless garage sales and flea markets. While the old man from the first yard sale seemed immune to Ranalea's and Jamie's charms on obvious display that wasn't true for the other males we ran into during our garage sale expedition. Men seemed unable to keep from staring every time Jamie bent over to pick something off the ground, which was often. For her part, Ranalea didn't need to make any effort at all. Her obvious nakedness under her thin dress was enough.

It was well into the afternoon when I found it: a painting that even Bill approved of. We were at a flea market and out of boredom I was looking over the black velvet paintings that are so common at flea markets. There were enough black velvet Elvises to furnish ten Gracelands. Plus a goodly assortment of black velvet James Deans, several black velvet Marilyn Monroes and a few black velvet Native Americans in full head dress.

Hidden in plain sight was a gem. Or at least a gem to me. First, it wasn't a black velvet painting but actual canvas. Second, it wasn't quite like anything I had seen before. The scene was set in the woods along a narrow creek. The scene itself was unremarkable, one of any number of nature scenes. But the central figure was breathtaking. Standing next to a tree was what appeared to be a naked wood nymph. Clearly she wasn't human with the earthy wood tone of her skin. Her hair was an artful tangle of green. While I was no expert on the magical creatures of the Verboten Woud I was pretty sure that she was a wood nymph. A dryad. Or at least the artist's idea of what a dryad should look like.

From the viewpoint of artist, and of course anyone looking at the painting later, she was at an angle, as if looking off into the distance. Indeed, she had an unmistakable look of longing. I couldn't help but wonder exactly what she was longing for.

A sticker on the frame listed the price at fifty dollars. A little pricey for something that wouldn't be functional beyond filling up blank wall space but not unreasonable nor was it beyond what I was willing to pay. For some reason I decided that I really wanted the painting.

Unfortunately, the person responsible for selling the paintings was staring at Jamie with such obvious lust that it was pretty clear he had gone far beyond merely undressing her with his eyes. Not that he had very far to go seeing as how she was already half naked to begin with.

She was also bent over, picking an imaginary bit of something off the ground, which gave him a great view of her ass. I couldn't blame him for staring, it was a very nice ass. However, at that moment her ass was preventing me from buying something I wanted.

I cleared my throat, loudly. There was absolutely no reaction, Jamie's admirer didn't so much as blink or take his eyes off Jamie's ass. I cleared my throat again, only louder. Again, no reaction. Finally, I gave up. "Jamie, stop showing your ass to everyone in eyesight! I want to buy this picture and I can't do that if this guy has his eyeballs jammed up your asscrack."

The man visibly snapped back to himself. "Huh? Shit, sorry about that. Um, which one are you interested in?"

I pointed to the painting in question. "This one with the wood nymph."

Jamie stood back up and came over to take a look at the painting. "Ronnie, you really want this thing? Why?"

Her tone seemed to suggest that I was an idiot and I immediately felt defensive. "I don't know why exactly, I just like it. I mean, it's a dryad, right? So the setting must be in the Verboten Woud. Or at least near the Verboten Woud. Since we live right next to it...."

"Yeah, well, I live right downstairs from the Ghost Lady and I still don't feel the need to cover my walls with creepy chicks. But your money, your choice."

"The artist claimed that the girl in the picture is real. He happened to see her on the edge of the Verboten Woud and painted the scene from memory. I asked him where this event took place, you know, allegedly, and he said right on the edge of Golden Glow."

Jamie and I shared a look. "So, did you ever check it out?" she asked.  "That's pretty close to here after all."

He shook his head. "Nope, never cared enough. Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. Who really cares?"

I found that I cared for some reason. "So, about the painting...."

"Oh yeah, sorry about rambling," he said. "Like the sticker says, fifty bucks and it's yours."

"Fifty? Don't you think that's a bit steep?" Jamie said.

"No, I really don't," he retorted. "If anything, it's a bit cheap."

"But you could give us a bit of a discount," she insisted.

"What for exactly?"

She bent down in front of him, giving him an excellent view of her breasts. "Oh, I can think of a couple of reasons."

"I appreciate the view, lady, but I'm not going to reduce the price just because you're flashing your tits at me. "I've already seen them for free. Now, if you're interested in some sort of exchange I think we can work something out." He made a circle out the forefinger and thumb of one hand while sticking the other forefinger through the circle.

Jamie stood back up, shooting him a venomous look of disgust. "What? Ewwww, no way."

"Thanks, Jamie," I said dryly. "That was such a big help." I pulled my wallet from my pocket and counted out fifty dollars and handed it over.

"Thank you kindly," he said, counting the money before pocketing it. "A real pleasure doing business." Jamie and I watched as he quickly and efficiently wrapped the painting in brown paper before sliding into a sturdy cardboard box. "Here you are, ma'am, one painting to go. I'd ask if you want fries with that but I think working at McDonald's is probably a couple of steps up from selling shitty black velvet Elvises at a hole-in-the-wall flea market."

"That's probably true," Jamie replied. "At McDonald's you get the fringe benefit of spitting in people's Big Macs." She picked up one end of the box containing the painting. "C'mon, Ronnie let's get this thing back to Bill's truck.

I picked the other end up and together we carried the painting across the grounds of the flea market to the parking lot. At one time the lot had been paved but in the years since the tarmac had eroded to the point where it was no more than loose rubble.

When we found Bill's truck we also found Bill and Ranalea putting what looked like a really old lamp into the bed of his truck. "So, you guys found something too, huh?" Bill said as he began tying the lamp down in the truck bed.

"This thing is Ronnie's," Jamie answered. "I had nothing to do with it other than helping her bring it to the truck."

"From the size and shape I'd say you bought a painting," Ranalea observed.

"Not one of those awful Velvises I hope," Bill said.

"Nope, an even dumber naked wood nymph," Jamie said. "Say, Ronnie, if you're so hot to hang a naked chick on your wall you could have just asked me for a photo. I'd give you a really sexy pose and everything."

"What, with your fist jammed up your vagina?" Ranalea said. "You do know that there's a difference between crass and sexy, don't you?"

"Why the hell do I bring you two along on these trips?" Bill asked. "Next time I'm going to take Ronnie and leave you two at home."

"You better keep your grubby paws off my Ronnie," Jamie said, giving Bill a scowl.

Bill frantically waved his hands in denial. "Well, I don't mean I want to do anything to her. It's just that she’s less annoying than you two."

"So she's still annoying, just not as much as Ranalea or I," Jamie said smirking.

"No, she's not annoying at all," Bill said. "I just mean that Rana and you are."

"So, I'm annoying, am I," Ranalea said, her voice dripping with a sweetness that was obviously faked. "Well, I'll remember that tonight. Perhaps I'll have a headache or have to wash my hair or somesuch."

"That would be great," Jamie said. "Then I wouldn't have to hear you two."