Chapter 126

The managers made it easy. They were in the board room ‘electing’ new board menbers.

The receptionist didn’t budge ... she just waved her hand at the door and ducked.

“Who da fuck are you?”

“Flintkote Farms.”

“Security!”

Junior popped in. “You rang?”

I said, “Mrs. Zájara,” Zájara is Naomi’s last name.

“Yes?”

How about that ... Zájara is Naomi’s mom’s last name.

“Your turn ... it’s your business now.”

“Junior ... your princessship ... I hate to ask ... but ... would you be so kind as to take out the trash?”

And they ... all the managers and their unmarried staff ... were ‘in the bubble’ and ‘gone.’

“Mrs. Zájara...”

“Yes?”

“Run it,” I said, “I need to get back to class.”

“If I run into problems...?”

“Fix it ... like you run your family.”

“Si, Patrón.”

In the years to come, la madre became la mamá. In all our dealings, she was mi mamá and I was Patrón.

The first year was a mess. There were those who thought to bully and those who lived found themselves left farther and farther south until the most stubborn were left at ‘the lighthouse at the end of the world’ Isla de los Estados, Tierra del Fuego Province, Argentina.

Next stop ... Antarctica.

After the first year of turmoil, Granjas Flintkote, became a power in the trade and exporter of fine vegetables and grains to the world.

All in all ... I was happy with the results. The employees were on the way to legal citizenship.

Of course ... getting my ashes hauled with great regularity might have had something to do with my improved mood.