2

When they reached the big fish stall at the end of the market, a crowd had gathered to watch the fish sellers throw fish to the wrappers.

Walter raised his video camera to eye level, ready to shoot.

A large man with a bushy mustache held up a long silver-colored fish. "Somebody has to buy this fish so's I can toss it," he bellowed.

Myra tugged on her father's sleeve. "Buy a fish, Daddy."

"We can't cook it at the hotel," he said in a low voice.

"We ship anywhere," exclaimed the fish seller. He wore orange rubber pants and a matching raincoat, smeared with fishy residue.

"Where are you from, little lady?" said the fish seller to Myra.

"Hammond, Louisiana," said Myra.

The seller held up the fish. "I'll be nobody in Hammond, Louisiana, has ever seen a salmon like this!"

Myra looked at her parents. "I'll bet they haven't."