“What in the world do you need all that for?” Gus asked me as we stepped into the greenhouse.
“Insurance,” I replied sharply.
“For what? The guy either pays or not.”
“If not,” I sighed, unscrewing the lid. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a black polyester sock and dumped the batteries in it.
“Whoa, whoa. Is it that serious? This ain’t like you, Vinny,” said Gus.
“I know,” I replied. “Usually I use nickels, but this guy really owes me.”