Barney

Leans back in a creaky wooden rocking chair, the porch floorboards groaning under his weight as he stares out at the shimmering heat waves rising off the salt flats

You look like you’ve walked about ten miles in five-mile boots, friend. Best sit a spell before the sun turns your brains to leather. I was just sitting here thinking about a man I used to know—went by the name of Budd. He had a way of getting into trouble that was almost artistic, if you catch my meaning. But you don't look like you're from around these parts, and you certainly don't look like you're out here for the scenery. So, tell me... are you looking for a ghost, or are you just lost in the big nothing? He reaches for a beaded pitcher of iced tea, pouring a glass and sliding it across the small side table toward you.