bookstore

Although we only had a limited amount of money, Carl bought an antique ratchet set at the estate auction we went to. I think he paid sixteen dollars for it, and though it was pretty cool, I didn't really understand why he was using some of our last monetary resources on an antique ratchet and sockets in a wooden box. He already had the requisite tools for a long trip in a Beetle with a recently rebuilt engine. But it was his portion of our pooled resources, so I couldn't complain, much.
A while after the auction, we went up Bayfield to check it out. I had a vague memory of Bayfield from a visit in the early seventies when I was very young. I remembered standing with some other people waiting for the Madeline Island ferry. I wanted to go to the place where the ferry left from and see if it seemed familiar. We figured we could find a campground in the area and stick around for a day or two and explore the area.
On the way up to Bayfield, we stopped in Washburn, which was an appealing little town. We stopped at a bookstore there. It was run by a pretty cool guy with a beard. I remember seeing a book having to do with Paavo Nurmi, and that may have been where I bought a coffee stained first edition of Gore Vidal's Duluth, which I later sent to Jörg.
We were talking with the owner about our stay in northern Wisconsin, and Carl got around to talking about the auction we had attended and what we had bought. Mr. Bookstore seemed quite interested when the antique ratchet set was mentioned. Carl asked if he wanted to see it because it was probably still out in the car. Mr. Bookstore did want to see it, so Carl went out to the car, and found it was indeed still in the car, and brought it in to the bookstore. Mr. Bookstore was very impressed, and looked at it for a long time. He put a socket on the ratchet and spun it around.
He asked, "How much did you pay for it?"
Carl told him, and Mr. Bookstore said, "I'll give you thirty for it."
Carl said, "I'll give it to you for forty."
Mr. Bookstore replied, "Okay."
Carl's sixteen dollar auction investment had turned to forty dollars. After leaving the bookstore, we went to a restaurant near the shore of Lake Superior and had some imported beer.
When we got to Bayfield, we went to the place where the ferrry left from, but it didn't seem familiar. I realized I might have been remembering waiting for the ferry on the Madeline Island side. Or the ferry landing may have been moved, or changed significantly in the two decades since I had been there.