“That’ll keep the wood sealed against the winter rain,” he said.

He gave one firm nod and reached into a low drawer behind the counter, bringing out a plastic box of heavy structural fasteners.

“Sounds like you want those deadbolts staying locked for thirty years,” he said.

“I mean for them to stay put forever,” I said.

He carried everything to the front register, where the scanner beeped three times.

“That’ll be ninety-four dollars and twelve cents,” he said.

I took a crisp hundred-dollar bill out of my wallet and laid it flat on the glass countertop.