Chapter 8

The lawyer left half an hour before, but I was still sitting at the table. I guess I was really in shock; I felt numb. I only believed I had problems earlier in the week, but now I was faced with something entirely different. My future, and the future of many others had been dropped on me. I heard the lawyer speak many times, in the past, and I just now realized I had not been listening. Oh, I had listened, but none of what had been said to me actually sunk in. The two words spoken did sink in. "Sign here." Boy, did they sink in.

My mouth was dry, as were my lips, but my hands were soaked with perspiration. I walked to the refrigerator and took a can of beer and almost popped the top. I looked at the can and replaced it, taking a can of soda instead. I opened it and took a long drink, belched, and finished the can with another long pull. I tossed the can in the trash and sat at the table once again. My head was spinning out all sorts of weird ideas, but none that made any sense.

Rita was standing beside me and I hadn't heard her walk into the room. She looked at me, her face was long, and I could see the hurt in it. "I'm sorry," was all she said.

"I guess I had better call Fran," I said, not really to her but just speaking out loud.

She nodded and said, "I think you should. She needs to know."

The drive into town was a long one because I was dreading the talk Fran was going to give me. Talk hell, she was going to start lecturing me again. Our last five or six contacts were not the best either, she had been pissed at each. She had even been shouting the last time we spoke. I was hoping she had cooled down some.

As soon as she opened the door, I knew my hopes were for naught. She looked at me and turned away, walking into her small study area. "You had better get him on the phone and make an appointment to see him. You have to convince him to keep the contract. He has been Nathan's lawyer for so long and it would take months for another lawyer to review these files. Are you aware that during that period of time you could lose thousands? You are almost to the point you will lose thousands this year, to Uncle Sam. Do you realize that?" She was speaking, not to me but to the papers that lay on her desk.

"What would I say to him? What do you think he will ask?" I was asking her, only receiving a blank look in return.

"Christ Dan, you have not listened to him when he told you what you should do. You have paid no attention to me. I should be joining him; giving my thirty day notice to you." Her tone had changed from being harsh and sharp, to one being mellow, soft, pleading, almost sympathetic, with a baby-like plea.

There was a long pause and she said, "One-half of my grade is on the professor's desk. The second half is a two page summary I turn in the last day of March. I stand a chance of failing, which would almost be a certainty, if you are not maintaining the glide path I mapped in the first part of my paper. I wrote it in a way my grade will coincide with our, yours and mine, performance on that date."

Three hours later, on my way back to the farm, I realized I was hungry and had skipped lunch, the bacon, and biscuit for breakfast was my only food for the day. Food had not been on my mind. I thought of something else, the perfume Fran was wearing, was lingering in my subconscious. She had also been wearing the pink dress, my favorite, because it barely covered the essentials, and was low cut, almost exposing her twin mounds. The three times she had worn it previously was enough to maintain my erection until I was on this road, and each time I had stopped and relieved myself, with a hand job.

It had taken Fran and I six phone calls to Maxwell Gibbons', the lawyer, to agree to meet with Fran and I the following day. His secretary told us the first call he was not going to be in his office, but on the golf course. Fran was almost frantic, making the sixth call and finally securing an appointment between three and four, depending on the length of his two o'clock appointment. She was as relieved as I, hearing he would at least meet with us.

I saw Walter's truck as I pulled into the drive and as I got closer I saw him sitting in the swing. I sat in the truck a few minutes, actually composing myself, and preparing for the barrage of questions I was about to receive.

I walked into the kitchen and Rita rushed to me, two cans of beer in her hands, and said, "I'm glad you're here. Would you sit with Walter while we finish preparing supper?" She was smiling and kissed me on the cheek as I took the cans from her. "Thank you," whispering the words to me. I stopped and looked back at her before I stepped on the porch. She looked radiant. She had been dressed the same way many times, but somehow tonight she looked much different, there appeared to be a glow about her.

I enjoyed talking to Walter, he was easy to talk to and enjoyed a good laugh, even when Ida and Rita made him the brunt of a joke during the meal. Rita and I exchanged tongues half a dozen times during the evening, her last was when he opened her door and she stuck her tongue out at me, just before she seated herself, as he held the door for her. I was happy for her, she and Walter were a good match.

Nathan and Ida had retired at their normal time and Nina had followed shortly thereafter. I sat alone in the swing, consuming two beers, before I locked up and went to my room. Much later, I heard someone knocking on the door. I went downstairs, shirtless and in my jeans. I wasn't expecting Rita to return, and I had locked her out. I opened the door and she and Walter were kissing in the swing.

She pulled from him, and said to me, "I'm sorry, I didn't take my key."

"I wasn't asleep, I just went upstairs," I said. "I didn't expect you back tonight. I guess I should have asked or reminded you about your key."

"Dan, can we talk a while?" she was pointing to a chair as she spoke.

I wasn't wearing a shirt but the night was pleasant as sat facing them. I started to say something but saw the movement at the door. Nina was leaning against the door frame, looking around to see who was in the swing with her mother.

Rita spoke to her, "You can come out, honey, its Walter and I."

Nina came out, a thin gown covering her thinner night wear. She was looking for a seat and motioned for me to move over and share my chair with her. It was a good choice because we four would be facing one another.

Rita spoke, looking at Walter and then me, "I called Fran, shortly after you left her house this evening, and she told me what you and she would be doing tomorrow. You will have to forgive me, but I told Walter the situation, and he has agreed to help." She was looking at him and he was nodding.

"That is, if you want him to help. You will have to pardon me for something else, I told Walter the concerns Frank and Joe have also. As you already know, they came and spoke to me Wednesday, when we returned from Walter's trip." She was smiling when she looked at him, and a big smile was on his face also. The trip must have been good for both.

Walter spoke up, "Dan, I think I know much of the problems, or concerns, Maxwell Gibbons has, and I can help you with many of them. Of course the final decision would be yours but that will have to be after your meeting with him. I think I know much of what he will say but I don't want to second guess him so I will hold my comments till later. I just want you to know that I will help in anyway I can. Rita asked if I could help and I have agreed, but it's your decision." He was looking at Rita and she was nodding, looking at Nina and me.

"I've got to tell you however," he was now looking into the darkness before he turned back to me, "Friendship and business are two different things. We can sit on your porch and drink beer and wine, and have a good time, but when we pass those steps, its will be business. I have been here a few times, and I must be honest, I have made some conclusions. I won't speak about them now, like I said, you need your meeting with Gibbons first. If you decide you want my help, I am willing; but, I want you to understand something up front, I don't play when business is involved. Something else, you had better pack a big lunch, because," he paused and looked at Nina and Rita before looking back at me, "I'm going to eat you ass out every time I see you do something I think is stupid, idiotic, or crazy. That's nothing to what I will do if you don't do something you should have done, if you knew it needed to be done. That goes into hiring, firing, buying and selling, and a thousand other things. That's me. Take it, or leave it. It's your call."

He was looking from me to Nina and Rita, and I knew he had finished when the straight face changed to a smile and his arm slipped around Rita's waist. She was smiling as she looked up at him.

I looked at Nina and her mouth was open. I put my fingers under her chin and closed her mouth, drawing a questioning look. I looked at Rita and said, "I guess you better start packing me larger lunches."

Nina was half sitting on me and I nudged her, wanting her to stand. We were standing when Walter stood, holding his hand to me. I shook it and he said, "We'll make it." Rita stood and placed her arms around us, kissing me lightly on the cheek, while Walter got his on the lips, also lightly.

I said to them, "Goodnight," and walked to the door.

Nina was behind me, "Goodnight, Mom, Walter." She took my hand as we walked up the stairway to our rooms.

I was lying on my back, watching the shadows moving, when I saw my door open. Nina came to my bed, moved silently and quickly under the sheet, moving close to me. She stretched her head up, placing her lips on mine, and kissed me softly. She then settled comfortably, her breasts pressed against my bare chest, a leg thrown over mine, and lay silent. She was sleeping soundly in five minutes, at peace with everything.

I lay motionless for an hour, recalling the day and wondering about tomorrow. I was confused. I was lacking in so many ways. I only knew one thing for certain at the moment, that being, Nina felt so soft, comfortable, and warm, lying in my arms.

Fran was silent, as we were making the three hour trip. Construction was slowing us but the trip would be less than two hours after the road construction was completed. I had to think about that to keep my sanity. I don't know if it was good or bad, but our trip was not mentioned by Ida or Rita earlier and Nina had made one comment, in support of our mission.

It was after four when Maxwell Gibbons' door opened and he came out with a couple, both smiling and seeming very cheerful. They shook his hand and the woman hugged him, before he introduced us to the couple. Their arms were entwined around one another as they cheerfully left his office.

Fran and I were seated across from his desk as he looked at papers on his desk. My mind was on the happy couple, who had most likely been seated in these chairs just prior to Fran and I. They had left happy and I wanted, I felt, that we would leave in just the same manner. That was until Mr. Gibbons started speaking, my mind kind of started skipping at his voice.

He looked up from his desk and asked, "How much did you get for your corn this year?" He was looking straight at me.

My tone was a high pitch when I spoke, "I don't know." I looked at Fran and she glanced at the ledger in her lap.

His next question was directed at her. "Tell him how much he got for his corn, please."

Fran looked at her ledger and said, "$2.54 a bushel and the yield was 128 bushels per acre." She looked back at him.

"How many acres did you harvest?" He looked to me again. I sat motionless and he finally he looked at Fran and made a hand motion.

"They harvested 140 acres," she said looking back at him. The motion of his hand indicated he wanted more. "We banked $45,516." She said, referring to her ledger.

"When was the last piece of equipment bought and when will you need to buy more?" He was looking at me and I saw a disgusted look on his face.

I remained silent. I didn't know the answer. I wasn't expecting this line of questions. When I heard Frank and Joe mention this to Nathan I didn't pay any attention. I do remember that Frank said I needed to know however it didn't seem important enough.

I didn't know the answers to any of his questions. I didn't know the last time cotton was a dollar a pound, I didn't know the farm we rented had one price and the pasture land another. I had no knowledge of net farm income or net cash income. I heard Fran and Frank, and even Joe, talk about replacement, they hadn't called it capital replacement however. I couldn't even tell him why he saw our farm as being solvent, up until I was heading it.

He did smile at one answer, which Fran gave, naturally. He didn't even ask me, rather he directed his question to her, "What was the outlay this year?"

She was smiling when she answered, "Forty-two and a half per cent."

He was nodding and smiling, "That's typical for Nathan and Frank, everyone else seems to be averaging closer to fifty per cent. I guess that is the reason Nathan has been successful. I like that."

We had been in his office for over two hours, I noticed, glancing at the clock. The last hour had been he and Fran talking, leaving me completely out of the conversation. He even moved from behind his desk and was sitting in the chair beside Fran. I picked up on part of the conversation, that being, she wanting to get her law degree.

The telephone turned out to be a savior. It buzzed and he looked at his clock, and said, "That's my wife reminding me I promised her dinner. Would you two like to join us?"

Fran and I looked at one another, each nodding, and he answered the phone. He spoke a few moments and hung the receiver on the cradle. Standing, he said, "We can continue this over dinner," and looking down at her ledger, said, "You won't need that."

We followed him and I was surprised to find him pulling into an old building, the parking lot recently paved, but very small. The restaurant was in need of paint on the outside, but very clean inside. There were families dining, and many small children were running around the tables. The patrons seemed to ignore the children playing. It was definitely a family restaurant.

We were greeted by an attractive woman, about the same age as Maxwell Gibbons. He spoke to the young girl standing beside the hostess, who was about my age, "Marie, when you become of age I am going to marry you." She had to stand on her toes but she kissed him on the cheek, and led us to a table in the corner.

Maxwell Gibbons began to speak, in a louder than normal voice, needing to speak over a screaming child, "I brought you here for a couple of reasons. The first being it's late and you have a long ride. The second, I want you to watch the work around the register. This is a business, and the people in here are here voluntarily, they could have dined in a dozen other restaurants nearby. You are watching friendship, loyalty, and business work hand in hand. If you watch the register, you will notice that every customer, leaving here pays at the register. They are paying for a service, their meal. Some will disagree with the price, and try to negotiate with Marie. Marie knows she can do just so much and her grandmother, the authority, may step in or be asked to step in."

I hoped he was going to break this down and explain it to me because I was confused at this time. I looked at Fran and she seemed to know what he was leading up to because she was smiling and nodding her head gently.

"Marie knows what she can do and where she has to let her grandmother make the final decision. Put yourself in her place now, but you are the grandmother. The people working for you need to know they can do only so much and then you have to make the decisions past that point. Does that make sense to you, so far?" he was asking and waiting for an answer.

"Yes," I said. Still wondering where he was leading.

"The people working for you, have you told them what they can do and how far they can go? What about Fran here, have you told her what she has to do and what she can do?" Again he was asking and wanting a reply.

He said, looking directly at me, "No, you haven't. Fran doesn't know what she can do because you haven't told her. She goes just so far and waits for your guidance. The way things stand, she will be an old maid before she will make a decision. You need to tell her what her responsibilities are and let her do them. If she fails then you must, I repeat, you must intervene. Is that pretty clear? But remember, Fran is not your only employee, you have many more; each must be aware of the same, their responsibilities."

It was almost eleven when we left the restaurant. I felt low. I had been embarrassed in front of Mrs. Gibbons and Fran. Maxwell Gibbons' questions had been extreme I thought. It wasn't my fault the biggest decision I made my first sixteen years was what clothes I would wear. I didn't think it was fair of Fran to tell Mr. And Mrs. Gibbons my toughest decisions lately was who I was going to screw next. She made it worse by naming off girls, she knew of, I had "fucked", and she had been pretty accurate.

Mrs. Gibbons made me feel good when she told Fran and her husband I had that wholesome look about me. I didn't like her following comment about me. She said I looked so young, inexperienced, and cuddly, something a woman wanted to curl up beside to make her feel warm; also, I had a look that somehow brought the motherly instinct out in women.

I was really shocked when Mr. Gibbons told his wife Nathan had lost all his ability to make decisions, due to the strokes and heart attacks. He informed her, as well as me for that matter, Nathan could not drive because when he came to a stop sign he would stop, but he couldn't make the next move, that it was OK to proceed after he stopped. Stop lights were OK, because they told him to stop and go. I lived with Nathan and I wasn't aware of this.

I began to see why Nathan had been so easy going on me, and not telling me to do certain things others did. I recalled Ben being asked to move a tractor, when I could have done it. I realized Nathan had never seen me do things and therefore I wasn't asked, where it was second nature to Ben.

I spent the next week reading Nathan's ledgers. Mr. Gibbons had told me I should read them as Nathan wrote in them every day. The only break I took was on Sunday, the day following our trip to see Mr. Gibbons, and Susan had made my visit worthwhile, as she promised. The following morning she delivered a beautiful baby girl. Eddie and Valerie called before dawn, giving us the news.

The first three days I read the ledgers they were just words. I guess I was slow and protected, because the fourth day Mark, who was like a shadow, made a comment which made me realize there was something to the books.

We had started reading. "This is stupid reading these books, the same thing is in every book. I don't see how rain, snow, hot, or dry, this on Tuesday or that on Friday, is helping us," he said with disgust, tossing the book on the table, and walking out of the room.

I was making notes on a pad when Nina came for me at supper time. She was looking over my shoulder at my notes and pulled me from them to eat. After supper I went back to my room and she followed. I had to explain what I was doing and she began helping. It was after midnight when she held the paper up for me to look at. Nathan had made excellent entries in his ledgers because we had listed the day he put the first seed in the ground, both for cotton and for corn. The ledger also included when the harvest started, was finished, and acreage harvested and the yield. His ledgers dated back before he took control of this farm, however the last two years were very brief, and the entries were sporadic.

The following morning I was groggy and felt lousy. I decided to skip school and go to Fran's. I carried the ledgers and the notes Nina and I had made, expecting her to be excited about them. Not so, she was excited about what she had been doing. She had been tracking auctions. She had a map, with marks scattered on it, with dates and times beside each mark. She had the marks numbered with a corresponding sheet containing a like number. She showed me how to see what was being auctioned by checking the number on the map against the sheet. It was pretty simple after she explained it.

She was looking at the map and said there were two auctions that day, she wanted to attend. I said she was crazy, because it was raining and it turned off cold that morning. She kept on begging, reminding me of Mr. Gibbons comments and I finally agreed.

We drove seventy miles, it raining all the way, and we walked two miles, between lots auctioned. It was my first auction and it was a little exciting, however it was nothing to cheer about. The second auction was underway when we arrived, and there were very few people in attendance. There was a small tractor and the auctioneer was becoming desperate, trying to get a bid. Fran kept elbowing me and telling me to bid. I finally raised my hand when he said four hundred. He didn't say anything except, 'sold'. I remember half a dozen men shaking their heads and a couple was laughing. I heard a comment about it not running. They were right, it didn't run. It was small enough to get on the back of the truck and it was towed to a loading ramp where it took eight men and another tractor to load it for me.

It turned out to be a good day however, because Fran and I laughed all the way back to the farm. We stopped at a restaurant, on the way, and were laughing so hard the waitress was sent over to ask us to please keep the noise down. This just caused us to laugh more and we were finally asked to leave. The waitress was glaring at us when I paid our bill.

The closer we got to the farm, the more I wanted to hide the small tractor in the barn, not telling of its purchase. I think Fran had the same thoughts because our laughter slowly stopped. The last ten miles was very quiet.

We were in the drive, leading to the house, when I saw Frank's truck parked in back. My heart almost stopped. I looked over at Fran and she didn't look too good either.

Our worries were short lived because Frank told us we made an excellent deal. Frank dumped some gas in the tank, hooked jumper cables to the battery, and it started. You can imagine the looks on Fran's and my face when it started. I don't know who had the bigger smile. Somehow, the cold rain wasn't important any longer and we unloaded the tractor, which unloaded much easier, not requiring manual labor, as had to be used when it was loaded.

I think the positive attitude Frank had was instrumental in me leaning to Fran's side when she said she wanted to go to another auction the following day. We finally talked Frank into going, the major selling point actually being it was supposed to be raining and he couldn't do too much outside.

We, Frank and I, we knocking on Fran's door at five-thirty, our pre-arranged meeting time. Fran had over slept and came to the door in a robe and rollers in her hair. Frank said we had a long drive and told her she could stay at home and make the next trip. We walked back to the truck and Fran was there before we had the truck started. She was carrying her clothing, still wearing the robe.

She made me turn the mirror and received promises from us that we wouldn't peep as she changed in the back of the truck. I did manage to get one quick glimpse of a breast, as she placed it in her bra, getting slapped on the back of the head good for it. It was worth it. She removed the curlers as we made fun of her while driving.

When we arrived at the auction site, Frank, and Fran, who had climbed over the seat to join us, had a list of the items we needed already marked. We walked through the items for two hours and Frank wrote a price value beside each piece of equipment he looked at. There were many people at the auction and we were outbid on the dozen items Frank had marked. I was kind of down on the trip home but Frank was high. He explained the way the auction was run and the reason the prices were high, the main reason being the items were for smaller and weekend farmers and that made up the bulk of the crowd.

When we returned to Fran's we went inside and looked at her map, discussing the next auction. Fran and I were going to a small auction the following Friday and on Saturday Frank would accompany us on a huge auction. It was a sheriff's sale and there were pages upon pages of items to be auctioned.

Frank read the requirements for bidding and said we needed a letter of credit from the bank, or cash. He suggested I get a letter of credit. Frank pointed out we would have to forgo the auction on Friday because that was the only time to view the items to be auctioned. We would need to remain overnight for the actual auction on Saturday morning, after looking over the equipment to be auctioned on Friday.

I went to the bank Monday and asked for the letter, explaining what I needed it for. I almost fell out of the chair when the loan manager asked if five-hundred thousand was adequate. I didn't realize Nathan's credit was that well established. I was shaking the entire drive to the farm.

Walter came over that evening for supper. I was glad to see him. He had been out of town a week and it was our first meeting since Fran and I saw Mr. Gibbons. I was happy for Rita also, she had been anxious all afternoon.

After supper I quickly learned Walter meant what he said when he was discussing business. I offered him a beer and he refused, telling me it wasn't time for a beer. He ran Rita from the kitchen and sat across the table from me.

He first asked me for a summary of what I had done over the past week. His facial expression told me he was pretty pleased at what Fran and I had accomplished so far. I covered our charts we had made, so far, and he was also happy about those.

When I was finished, he started his questions, in the same way Maxwell Gibbons had, only he was asking about people. My answers about the people working for Nathan, actually myself, were answered in exactly the same way, that being "I don't know". This didn't make him happy. Not one bit.

He wanted to know about pay, numbers on payroll, projected raises, last raises, taxes, and social security. Each of my answers was the same. We were in the kitchen over an hour when he finally said he would take that beer. I felt a weight lift from my shoulders as I pulled two cans from the refrigerator.

It was a cool night, but when we went outside, Rita and Nina were sitting the swing. Rita took my beer and said, "Thank you," as she drank from it.

Nina and I sat with them and joined in the discussion for half an hour. When we, Nina and I, went inside I got the old 'tongue' from Rita. I was happy for her, and I liked Walter.

I went to my room and pulled the ledgers out. I had them spread over the bed but I didn't remember too much in them about people and payroll. I was looking through the ledgers when Nina came in. She sat on the bed, dressed in a thin robe, over baby doll pajamas. She was looking good and sexy, but my better judgement said I should keep looking for the people questions Walter was asking about. We went through the last seven years ledgers and found almost nothing on people. It was late, and everyone else was in bed, when Nina crawled into my bed. She moved close to me, and within minutes she was sleeping.

During breakfast, the following morning I asked Ida, "Where does Nathan keep the records about the payroll?"

She looked at me kind of funny and answered, "Fran has all the pay records. She has been keeping those, you should know that."

I looked at Nina after she kicked me under the table.

I knew she kept them but after the arduous questions from Walter I didn't think about her. My mind naturally went to the farm ledgers.

I came from school at lunch and Rita asked, "Would go to the drug store for me." I gave her a skeptical look and she started laughing and said, "No, not for that, I bought my own napkins, Mr. Smart Alec. Nathan has a prescription needing filled."

I guess I had that coming, and started laughing at myself. "Sure," I said. I need to stop by Fran's anyway."

I stopped by Fran's, hoping she would be home and not in college, but I was out of luck. I drove on to the pharmacy. I dropped the prescription off and was drinking a soda when Jenna came in. She walked past me, to the pharmacist, and gave him a prescription. They were talking quietly, however they could have spoken in their usual voice, and I couldn't have heard them, the distance being what it was.

Jenna came over and sat down, "Want a soda?" I asked.

"Please," she said. "What are you doing in town this afternoon?"

"Getting a prescription filled for my uncle, and you?" I wondered why she wasn't in school.

She was blushing when she said, "I had a doctors appointment and left school early."

"Is everything all right, I see you have a prescription being filled?" She didn't look ill, however all illnesses didn't show, and I was concerned, her being a friend and all.