minutes later he heard the familiar creaks in the floorboards while walking to the kitchen. He was fumbling with the rusted clasps on his overalls, when he caught the smell of coffee brewing. Rounding the corner, the wearied farmer stopped and watched his wife needing two hands to lift the heavy iron skillet. Her arthritis was likely bothering her again, although she would never admit to it. It was all he needed to see to make up his mind.
“Things have changed Mary. Things have changed.”
“Good morning sweetheart. What’s changed?”
“Everything seems to me. Seems the whole damn world has changed.”
It took her but a moment to understand.
“You’re thinking of selling that parcel of land to those people again, aren’t you?”
“No, not exactly. What I’m thinking of doing is selling them the whole damn farm.”
“Thomas, you’re not serious!”
“Damn right I’m serious. Mary, look, I’ve thought it over and over. The kids don’t want this farm, never did. And I’m getting too old to handle it. They’re offering twice what the place is worth, so we could retire with plenty of money.”
“But Tom, this farm has been in your family for over a hundred years.”
He just shrugged.
“And what about the talk I’ve heard?” Mary asked.
“What talk?”
“You know very well what talk. Most folks around here think these people are just a front for foreign investors, and they don’t like that.”
“That’s bunk,” Tom said, waving his hand at the air. “These people don’t represent any foreigners. They’re with a company called Universal Biotech. It’s American owned like Coca Cola, or General Motors, even on the stock exchange.”
“Well, even if that’s right, it’s just that, we’ve been here for so long. What would we do?”
“I don’t exactly know. But whatever it is, we’d damn sure have the money for it. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Mary pushed the bacon around in the pan and noticed the broken handle on her spatula. It seemed to have some significance that she didn’t want to acknowledge, so she turned her attention to the view from the window over the sink.
“Why do they want to buy our farm anyway?”
“The man says they do research. Says there’s big money in new kinds of farming. Crossing genes from one plant to another, stuff like that. They need land to practice on, that’s all.”
As Mary Wheeler turned the bacon over in the pan, she wondered what it would be like to no longer live here. She had spent her whole adult life here. Her and Tom had raised their kids here, in this house, on this farm. Still, the thought of an easier lifestyle was inwardly appealing. Her husband had nearly worked himself out on this place. Tom had been a good provider for her and the kids. He was a good man. Maybe he deserved more. Maybe she did too.
She poured him a cup of coffee. Turning to hand it to him, she saw the man she had loved for all these years, struggle with a stiff back, trying to lace up his work boots. That was the moment her mind was also made up.
“Tom, I think you’re right,” she blurted out. “I think we should.”
When her husband picked up his head, and his eyes met hers, he had a grin on his sixty-six-year old face the likes of which she hadn’t seen in years. Not exactly, however, for the reason she expected.
Leaning on the kitchen table, Wheeler stood up, his smile getting even bigger.
“The goddam fools think they’re gonna grow pineapples in Minnesota!”
“ We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.”
Anais Nin
6
When Jason got to his office, he found Bob Schimmel sitting in his chair, waiting for him. He was more than a little surprised. He noticed the coffee pot was already half empty.
“Good morning boss. Up a bit early today, I see.”
“Jason, sit down. We need to talk.”
“Sure thing. Um, have I done something wrong?”
“No, that’s not why I’m here. I want to talk about the gene-splicing project you’ve been working on. I read the report Friday, and again Saturday morning and, quite frankly, I’m having a hard time believing what I see here.” Schimmel picked the folder up from the desk and placed it in front of Jason. Jason looked back rather dumfounded.
“It’s not really gene-splicing boss, but, uh what seems to be the problem?”
“Well, maybe I’m making some wrong assumptions here, but according to what I read in this report, you seem to be making claims that are, shall we say, a bit more than remarkable? I mean, you’re talking about taking almost any characteristic of any plant and combining it with any other. You’re saying, at least I think you’re saying, that it’s possible to grow apples, and oranges, in the desert. Not in soil mind you, sand. Orchards in the sand? And with yields which far exceed anything done conventionally, without fertilizer! Am I getting the gist of this right?”
“Pretty much,” Jason responded casually. “But we’re not talking about combining characteristics. We’re talking about understanding how nature gave a particular characteristic to one plant, and then engineering another to have it. And doing it naturally, the same way nature did. There’s no gene splicing involved.” Schimmel was quiet for a moment.
“OK. I think I understand that. Continue.”
“It isn’t just orchards in the sand, as you put it. It’s much more than that. It’s soybeans, and corn, and wheat in the sand. It’s tropical fruit in colder climates. It’s insect resistant crops, that don’t need fertilizers. The techniques we’ve come up with over the past few months have given us the ability to customize plants at will. We can take warm weather plants, and make them totally resistant to cold, and vice versa. We can engineer strains of wheat, that will hold water like cactus. We can...What we can do is, more or less, plant anything anywhere from here on in.”
Jason looked up at Schimmel and smiled.
“Think of it, boss, Death Valley, bread basket of the world. All without the catch-22s of standard genetic engineering.”
Schimmel found it interesting how Jason kept using the word we.
“Catch 22s?” the big man asked.
“You know, people having to choose between starving on the one hand, vs genetically modified food that might cause new allergies. Or plants resistant to insects, that kill friendly insect larvae, along with the destructive ones.”
Jason couldn’t understand
