The Farm
I‘m tired…and I hurt. Everything hurts. If I could, I would, just find a hole and curl up.
I have known radio communications since my Navy years, long ago. Complex and finicky electronics, big old vacuum tubes, personal units, heavy, low battery power, short life time.
Now, this little device, two by four inches, less than a half inch thick, does things I never dreamed of when I was doing electronics.
It also vibrates in my shirt pocket and it tickles.
“Hello?”
My long time friend and attorney, James Eversole, ‘slim Jim’,
“I’d like a French Dip today, how about you?”
“Half hour, right.”
“You are building a non profit religious institution to be called, “The Church of Man”, large enough to service a thousand pilgrims and land enough to feed them.”
“They bought that?”
They wouldn’t care if you were building a Brothel, as long as the license fees are paid and everything is in order. They just want to go right by the book and collect as much bribery as they can. Don’t you get that yet?”
“Yes, Jim, I get it. Something like the doctor coming and saying, ‘yep, it’s cancer…’ you knew it already, that just confirms it.”
“I think you’re wrong Jack, it’s just like it always has been, everything is corrupt, everyone lies and cheats; samo, samo.”
“You are a cynic, Sir James, but you do good work.”
“You pay me good money. Ever gonna tell me what you are really doing out there?”
“No. How about the electrical and plumbing inspections?”
“Like I told you, ten grand each, the permits are in the big envelope. Don’t put them up until you actually start wiring, okay?”
“Heh, I ain’t that big a dummy, at least I hope not. Let’s eat and see if that waitress has panty lines.”
It was a good lunch, I thought, as I wheeled my vintage Chevy Blazer towards home, such as it is.
Seven thousand acres, plus. Five years of legal research, finding owners and estates; paying back taxes, greasing palms for school district taxes, country road taxes, land use and environmental hoops to jump through.
Four hundred and twenty thousand dollars to date, but this was the final check and paper work.
Now I could go full bore and hope I am not too late.
For the last month, not missing a day, I picked up Ramos at the corner of fifth and Elsworth. He carried the same silver lunch pail.
His lunches had more variety after the hundred dollars a day I paid him started adding up.
Ramos usually napped for the half hour drive from town out to the site; not this morning.
“Senor Jack, I feel I am taking your money but accomplish nothing?”
“Yeah, I can understand you feeling that way. But no more. Today is the day I have been waiting for.”
“Senor?”
“We have completed the survey of the foundation; the slope of the land and the soil type. It has all been approved and accepted; now we can build.”
“Build, Senor, build what?”
“Two weeks ago you told me you could find at least ten good men to work with us, did yoou find them?”
