‘The difference between the two main parties has never been this great and the chasm that separates their world view never that deep. What’s going to happen next week, after the US election?’ I asked Camp who ambled in, deposited his coat over the chair and took a load off his feet. Must be tiring standing on your feet all day long I thought.

            ‘No matter who wins it will be chaos. If Trump wins, the groan of defeat will be heard all over the world. If Harris somehow squeaks in, the thumping and yelling, the lies and the shouts of anger from the MAGA crowd will be deafening.’

            ‘You think there will be violence? Will the defeated take up arms, smash their way into the news and TV screens into our homes?’

            ‘Well, the Trump crowd will not go quietly into the night. They will cry foul with their chief cheerleader the loudest. With Harris, she will be magnanimous, knowing there will be another day and she will have another chance in four years. What scares me is that windsock J.D. Vance, one cheeseburger and one heartbeat away from the presidency, should Trump somehow win this crazy contest.’

            ‘I’m almost afraid to watch,’ I said. ‘Maybe we’ll just tune in to another episode of ‘Murder in a small Town’, the L.R. Wright TV series that was filmed here last year. It shows up Gibsons just like it is and we like the main characters.’

            ‘Yeah, I haven’t had a chance to watch. Puts our little town on the map. Should be good for tourism. I could sure use more customers at the store.’

            We both looked out at the grey, blustery water for a beat.

            ‘I have a confession to make,’ I said, hoping that Camp would be easy on me.