"Sure," you say.
He leans back into the cabin, grabs a can, and tosses one to you and one to Addy. As he leans back to grab a third for himself, you dump part of the can out into the water behind you while coughing to cover the sound. Addy takes your lead and does the same.
"Don't tell anyone I'm offering drinks to minors," Barry warns. "Berlin's already got it out for me because of my dad and, eh, some other stuff, she doesn't need another reason."
"She really butted heads with your dad, huh?" you ask, trying to sound at least a little sympathetic. "What was that about?"
"Not important," he says. "Anyway, my old man doesn't like it when I talk about him with folks."
You're about to ask him why not when the implication of what he just said hits you.
"He didn't like it? Or he currently doesn't like it?" you ask.
Barry shrugs. "Well, both. But especially now."
Addy leans forward. "You know this how?"
"I talk to him when the fog comes in," he states, matter of factly. "You're here because people like talking about weird stuff that happens in the fog, yeah? They're all so scared, they never hang around outside in it long enough to see what actually happens. Sure, some people end up dead, but I get to talk to my dad so it isn't all bad."
"You don't think it could just be somebody playing a trick on you?" Addy asks. "Someone trying to impersonate him to get to you?"
"I know what my old man looks like and what his voice sounds like," Barry snarls.
You honestly can't tell if he's telling the truth, or at least thinks he's telling the truth. This could be a long joke, or if he is the target of some complicated prank, he may simply not realize it.