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“You’re Emma’s friend, right?” he asked, balling up the wrapper and putting it back in his pocket.

“Maddy,” I grumbled. I was slightly annoyed that my penis quest was being interrupted.

“I thought so. Doug.” He peered around like he was checking that I was alone. “Where you going?” he asked.

“Uh, nowhere. Walking,” I said impatiently. “Where are you going? You have a pig.”

He looked at the animal. “Yeah, it’s getting cold. Time to retire him for the winter.”

“Retire him from what?”

He pulled his face back like he couldn’t believe what I just asked. “This is Kevin Bacon,” he said like I should know who this is.

“So?”

“He’s the town mascot.”

“Never heard of him.”

“You’ve never heard—” He put his hands on his hips and looked around like there might be someone to be indignant with him. “Daniel didn’t mention him?”

“No,” I said, dryly. “It never came up.”

He stared at me. “This pig is a celebrity.”

“Riiiiight,” I said, feigning interest. “Look, I gotta go. I’m looking for dick graffiti. Nice seeing you.”

I started walking again.

“Have you seen Dick Rock?” he called.

I stopped and turned. “There’s a Dick Rock?”

“Yeah, wanna see it? I can take you.”

He nodded toward what looked like an overgrown game trail that vanished into the tree line.

“In there,” I deadpanned.

“Yeah. It’s cool.”

“And who sponsored this message? The deer ticks?”

He pulled a can of OFF! from his jacket pocket and waggled it at me. “I have deet.”

“Of course you do.”

I didn’t move to take his can, or his offer.

“It’s the best dick in Wakan,” he said. “Dick art,” he corrected.

“Ha.”

Frankly I’d be interested in checking out either. It had been waaay too long.

Doug waited for my reply.

I didn’t know this guy.