"Fuel for the boat," the boy replied, looking at his feet. "The fish aren't where they used to be. I have to go further out."
Elias would sell it, of course. That was the business. But as he wiped a thin layer of oil over the blade to keep the salt air at bay, he whispered a thank you to the steel. In Belize, nothing was ever truly gone; it just changed hands until it was needed again. belize buy and sell
The boy took the gear, a flash of relief crossing his face, and disappeared back toward the harbor. Elias looked at the axe. By tomorrow, a collector from a resort would likely offer five times what he’d paid for it, wanting a "piece of history" for a lobby wall. "Fuel for the boat," the boy replied, looking at his feet
To a tourist, the shop looked like a junk pile. To Elias, it was a library of Belizean survival. That was the business