We were driving down a narrow road flanked on both sides by heavy trees. Goodie reached under his seat and pulled out a can of beer. Are you sure about that, I asked. He cracked the can open. The truck hit a pothole and some beer spilled onto Goodie's lap. Shit, he said, you want one? I shrugged and held out my hand. Wait till you see this place, Goodie said, it's nice, lots of land, no one around for miles. He reached back under his seat, found a beer, and gave it to me. My friend, he said, is a cool guy, letting us stay up there, you're gonna like him.