As they neared the Walnut Grove bascule bridge, the span was lifted open, and traffic needed to wait for a tall-mast pleasure boat to sail through. When they finally crossed, the ominous loud hum the tires made on the grated steel floor brought another memory that leaped out of her past; a sound all but forgotten, was familiar again.
Pickups and four-by-fours parked on the shoulders of the levee and partially blocked the lanes. That was allowed and expected on the narrow roads, even for tourists. They found a place to squeeze in and climbed out.
“Remember these guys?” Pierce gestured toward a shop.
A large sign in the middle of the storefront said:
Rasay Bros.
Rasay Bros.Bait & Tackle
Breakfast & Boats
“This shop used to belong to….” Sara was about to trail off into one of her memor
