Chapter Eleven
Ty
The store looked deserted, but that’s the way I always remembered it being. Dad always used to mutter, asking how Bo could stay in business when it was so quiet here. The big thing I remembered from the store was Bo’s fondness for country music—the cornier and peppier the better. He’d blast it so loud that I wondered the man was going deaf. Sure enough, as I stepped through the door of the store, the country music was playing away.
One thing I’d worried about was that looters might have come to the store and wiped it out before I’d gotten here. But apparently I shouldn’t have worried because the stores were still stocked. This was a place where you could find almost anything—from live bait, to baby chicks, to to old-fashioned candy and soft drinks. The wooden floor sag
