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Summary
“What’s your name?”
Gale’s tongue is as numb as the rest of him, “Buck.”
A flash of white teeth, grin crooked, incisor a little popped out, “Well how ‘bout that. They call me Bucky.”
“How about that,” Gale agrees.
Bucky examines Gale. He’s got a shrewd gaze. Clever, problem-solving eyes. Smart enough Gale doesn’t like him.
“What do I owe you?”
“Two dollars,” Gale says automatically, before he can say something different like, 'I didn’t give you anything.'