Chapter 26

Reginald got a call from a Charles Carlsson, who said he was the local enthusiast for native biology, and had been contacted by a Colony official.

“I understand you had submitted a query about the pseudo-grass in your field,” he said after introducing himself. “What is your problem, exactly?”

Reg described the puzzle about growing speed and conditions, and Carlsson expressed interest.

“Any chance you could reserve a small section for me to examine over a period, so I can find what is going on? It might be a natural mutation, or some constituent in the soil that is affecting the plants.”

“No objection from me, sir, but the land will shortly be passed over to a quarry company, so they will need to be consulted about a small nature reserve.”

“Do you mind clearing it with them, and telling them that I am happy to discuss it with them?”

Reginald agreed, and sent an email to the quarry company, specifying that a small corner of a field well away from the initial quarry site was what was envisaged.

He had a reply shooting back almost at once, from the quarry firm’s lawyers, querying this. He referred them to Charles Carlsson, who could explain everything and reassure them that this would not affect the quarry company’s business. He was thanked for this additional information, and it was left at that.

He was glad to get back to his children, as the latest sounds indicated a need for some replacement of wet or soiled nappies. He was starting to get used to this aspect of fatherhood. The occasional whiff of ammonia or whatever came with the pee, was just something to be prepared for. An open window helped clear the air.

At dinner that evening, Reginald recounted that conversation with Carlsson and how it had led to an experiment in a corner of this land grant. He went on, “I have marked the reserved patch of land with a fence and a sign, so that you and everyone else can see and appreciate that it must be left alone for the next few months; not that I expected any of you to want to go marching through it!”

Erika asked, “What about the rest of that field?”

“I have to plough it again, to kill off the pseudo-grass that is growing there; and any other field that has the same growth. It appears to be places where seeds have been lying dormant for a long time. The ploughing has brought them to the surface, and the rain has started the germination. The expert is assuming the seeds have been in the ground since the last time a wildfire went through here.”

Erika frowned. “How often do we get wildfires in this part of the planet? I am beginning to worry, if that is common.”

Reginald shrugged. “I have absolutely no idea, Erika. Based on the amount of forestry and other long-term growth, I suspect that is roughly once a generation or so; unless the trees are evolutionary prepared for wildfires.”

He paused, then went on.

“That is a thought. I should phone Carlsson back and ask him if local forests resist fire. If they do, the bark may get scorched, and living leaves destroyed, but the tree itself can resume growing once the fire has gone through. Deep roots will help to keep moisture coming up into the tree. I know some trees on Earth can regenerate from little more than stumps in the ground. That is the basis for the old system of pollarding.”

“I read about fire-resistance in trees. Mostly deciduous trees, I think, as they have more water in their trunk and branches. Trees with fleshy leaves, too, and those whose lowest branches are not found near the ground. Their height gives some protection from fire at ground level. The trees most at risk from fire are the resinous ones, unless they have very thick bark.”

“That sounds very probable, Erika. Thank you. I should ask Carlsson if the local trees fit that description.”

Before he sat down with his ladies for dinner, he had done so, with Carlsson promising to confirm or deny the supposed tree resistance to fire thesis, but commenting, “That would make sense to me, but I would like to get data to support the notion.”

Reg asked, concerned. “Does the Colony have the capacity to collect such data on a large scale?”

Carlsson responded, “We don’t need a large dataset; just one or two examples of each tree species should be enough to give us an overview of the facts. I can check on where there have been forest fires in recent years, and ask people to check for regrowth of the damaged trees.”

“Very well, that sounds like a reasonable approach to take. What did you specialise in at university, may I ask?”

“I did a BSc in Environmental Science, a few years back. I heard about this place and asked around carefully until I found someone who could tell me how to put my name forward for emigrating. I was soon contacted by the Colony people who were looking for suitably qualified people to document the ecology of Rehome, so I am on the scientific staff nowadays, ready to deal with awkward questions from farmers like yourself, who are puzzled by something they observe. Nine times out of ten, I don’t have the answer and have to research it myself, but I enjoy the investigations.

Talking about farmers, I asked a few of our earlier immigrant farmers about this ‘grass’, and they said they allow it up to a week’s growth then plough it in as a green manure. It doesn’t come back. So my earlier advice has been supported.”

Reginald closed the call and told Frances what was happening, so that she could pass it round the rest of the family. In return, she told him that the girls would be watching an online service from the main Church in the Colony.

“There is a marriage service for several families all at the one time, and it is online as well. We fancied joining in online, see who they are, and whether the service was the same as ours when Sandra joined us.”

“Fine, Frances. How many people involved?”

“Three husbands, and seven wives in total, all around the age of twenty. They all migrated to Rehome in the last few months, and are in the first flush of embarking on polygamy. Wait until each husband has to look after the babies, just like you have to at times!”

Reg insisted, “I have no bother with that now, Frances; as long as I don’t have to do it every day!”

“Thank God we girls don’t have to look after our young ones every day either. Sharing that duty makes it so much easier. Oh, and we girls are all going to dress up as if we were going to be at the church in person. We can’t be there, for various reasons, so this is the next best thing. You can admire us all in our new dresses.”

“I would prefer admiring all of you in your new underwear,” he complained.

“Well, if you appear when we call for you, you can watch us getting dressed, from the bare skin onwards, you sneaky-minded boy!”

“I’ll enjoy that,” Reg admitted. “I like seeing each of you naked, and particularly so when you are pregnant.”

“That’s just Sandra for now, but Jessica is doing her best to get pregnant again, as I am sure you will have experienced her enthusiasm.”

“What about Sidra and Elizabeth? Don’t they need to be at the Pharmacy with Fiona for the opening day?”

“They do, but they can all wear their new clothes and look good in the shop, then take a break to watch while the church service is on their phones. Fiona doesn’t expect the shop to be terribly busy on the first day, so John, Jane and Debbie can hold the fort while the others watch the service.”

Reg’s phone demanded his attention again, so he answered it. It was Charles Carlsson.

“Reginald, I wonder if you can send me a picture of the experimental patch today, so that I have a starting image to compare with all future examinations of the patch?”

“Sure, Mr Carlsson. That should be no bother. I’ll get it done while there is still good light for it.”

He apologised to the ladies for rushing off again, instead of checking the babies again. “Carlsson wants an image of the patch as a starting point, so I must do it now while the light is good.”

Frances offered, “Okay, provided you take care of the children while we are watching the marriage service online tomorrow.”

Reg shrugged. “That sounds fair to me, Frances my love.”

The Farm Pharmacy first day of business was busier than any of them expected. The press story had spurred people to think about buying potions and creams for their minor ailments, now that there was a source for such medications. Everything from stings to scrapes and bruises, pimples and rashes, now had a chance of being cured without recourse to a busy doctor.

As the time for the church service came around there was still a queue at the counter, so Fiona told the youngsters, “Sorry, girls, but work comes first. I’ll ask Frances if the service can be recorded for us to watch later.”

Both girls looked disappointed, but remained excited by their duties in the shop. They both nodded, then got on with dealing with customers. Fiona made a quick call to Frances, outlining the problem, and asked if it could be recorded.

Frances replied, “The church site says it can be accessed for 24 hours afterwards, so you three can watch it this evening. Sorry, I should have told you that.”

The minute each teen was free, Fiona gave them the update, and they all got back to work. Later in the day, as pressure reduced, John gave Fiona important information.

“Boss, we are running low on a few common remedies. One or two customers told us we were cheaper than the big stores that include medications, so they were buying extras for use in the future. Should we up the prices tomorrow?”

Fiona stared at him in dismay before telling him, “John, we stick to our prices, as long as we are making a profit, albeit less than the big stores. Our target is to increase our sales and build up our customer base, not try for bigger profits at this time. When we get time, we can spy on our competitors and note what their prices are. We aim to maintain a price differential to our benefit.

Sometimes it is simply the brand name that causes a product to be more costly. We can offer a cheaper brand, or a generic version of the drug, and inform our customers that the product’s active ingredients are identical to that of the brand name version, so that they can get a good deal by buying our products instead.”

“Got you, boss. Can you still get an order off to your father, for a resupply of the items I have listed on my phone as getting low? I’ll leave it to you to discuss with him what is available for over-the-counter sales. My professional stock is still holding up, and should be fine for a week or two, if you want to tell him that.”

“Right, John. That seems fine to me. Copy your list to my phone, and I’ll speak with Daddy as soon as he and I are both free. He’ll be cheered that we are so busy already.”

John had to put up the ‘closed’ sign on the door to prevent any more customers coming in after closing time. The last member of the public left at five minutes past closing time, and they all heaved a sigh of relief.

John was unrepentant as he told them, “That was great, ladies, but we are not finished yet. Now we have to total up the cash and the digital payments, to make sure it matches with stock reduction numbers, and then either now, or tomorrow before opening, we have to restock the shelves from our reserve stock still in boxes at the back of the shop. Which do you ladies want to work to? Getting it done now is better, I can tell you, as any discrepancies will have to be sorted out. You don’t want to open in the morning with problems left unclarified.”

Jane pointed out, “But sometimes a discrepancy is due to shoplifting, and that happens mostly when you are busy, like today.”

“Jane, you may not have been aware of it, but every time you swiped the bar code for the item sold, it also cleared it from the inventory. An item leaving the store without being cleared from inventory causes an alarm to go off. You didn’t hear any alarm today, did you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“So we had no attempted shoplifting today, and so there should be no discrepancy due to shoplifting, Right?”

“Yes, John. Sorry, John.”

There was a sparkle in her eyes, for she and John both knew this altercation was part of shop training for the teenagers. She was well aware of the security system built into the selling process.

Fiona said to them all, “Now when we get home, we can watch the marriage ceremony at the Church of Rehome, and see how others have done it. John, for future information, you should watch it too. I suspect Jane and Debbie are going to watch it on their own phones ... unless all three of you decide to watch it together. It can be quite instructive, I assure you.”

John blinked and said, “What can be instructive? Getting married?”

“Yes, because marriage, Rehome-style, is very different from what happens on Earth. Believe me, I know about this from personal experience.”

Debbie jumped into this discussion.

“That sounds a great idea, Fiona! What do you think, John? Want to watch it with us ... me and Jane?”

“Uh, I suppose so, if you girls think it a good plan.”

“Great! Where do you want us to watch it, John? Here or your place?”
“My place?”

He intended it to sound hesitant, but the ladies took it as a suggestion.

“Fine. Then let’s do that, John.” said Jane. “Nice idea, Debbie.”

The others left the three staff to make these arrangements, while they themselves headed for home. Elizabeth waited a little while, then asked as they neared the rail station, “Mum Fiona, am I wrong or were Jane and Debbie coming on to John?”

Fiona laughed delightedly.

“Spot on, Elizabeth. Your observation is accurate. These two fancy themselves as John’s future wives, so this was stage one of the campaign. The poor man won’t know what hit him.”

“Oh. I thought it looked that way. What would you say if I started to flirt with a man?”

Fiona looked intently at Elizabeth.

“Hmm ... I keep forgetting you girls are growing into womanhood. I suppose that forgetfulness comes from being settled with Reg as my man; I haven’t noticed our own girls becoming lovely women. I can tell you, girls, that you both look gorgeous in your new dresses. The customers treated you as older than your years, because of your classy clothing. Did you notice, or were you too busy?”

Sidra giggled, saying, “Once I noticed a male customer eyeing me, but as the man never tried anything objectionable, I let it pass. Do you really think I was being ogled as a desirable woman, Mum Fiona?”

“Most definitely, Sidra. I am sure you have observed that your middle-eastern colouring made no difference. The population here is multi-ethnic, so we have no racist attitudes to contend with. If anyone did act in a racist way, it would be a case of, “If you don’t like the people here, you can go home instead.”

Sidra beamed.

“I like that,” she agreed. “Even in England, some of the locals made rude remarks to me or my Mum at times. She told me to let it pass, as it was a sign of ignorance on their part. ‘Pity them for not knowing much about the human race,’ she said. ‘We Christians come in all colours of skin, and shapes of face; and Muslims do also. Be proud, my daughter.’

She was right, wasn’t she?”

“Most definitely right, Sidra. The colour of your skin, or the shape of your eyes, or whatever variation you have, is merely a reflection of where your part of the human race developed. Internally, we are all much the same. Reg was never much interested in whether you looked like him or not, just whether he liked you as a person. Your Mum benefited from that, Sidra.

I once read an autobiography by a black television presenter of a craft show, and he told how he grew up in a poor part of London where everyone was poor, and the colour of your skin didn’t matter a damn to anyone else around you when he was young. It was only when he went to secondary school that he encountered boys from a better-off all-white neighbourhood. The treated him like shit for being black, not because he was poor, just for being black; and the white teachers ignored the racist bullying which really shocked him. He took to learning how to fight all the bullies, and quickly got a reputation as a fighter, but didn’t do well academically as he had undiagnosed dyslexia and so never learned to read in his youth. He was clever but couldn’t show it in exams, as he couldn’t read the questions!

So you see, everyone is different, and we should never be nasty to people if they are different, unless they act nasty out of choice. Life is all about choices.”