From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 8, A Big Decison

 This is episode eight of the novel, From Here To 1137. 

  If you would like to purchase "From  Here to 1137," it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or 

paperback.

A Big Decision

Tom completed harvesting all the corn. He stored it in the farm’s granary. He scooped two buckets full of corn and spread it in the trough for the cattle. He then worked a whole day preparing the combine to harvest soybeans. 

Next, he planted winter wheat. That took a couple of days.

The next day, he drove into Gene Francis’s office. He explained over the phone that he had a few important matters to discuss.

Gene invited Tom into his office and offered a chair in front of his desk. Gene leaned forward and crossed his arms on his desk.

Tom could not ignore the serious look on Gene’s face. Tom sensed bad news was about to be delivered.

”How are you doing, Tom?” Gene asked with a painful smile.

“I’m doing good,” Tom said, trying to match the seriousness he saw on Gene’s face.

“Have you heard from Edgar lately?” Gene asked.

Tom leaned forward. “This isn’t about him, is it?” And added wryly, “Is he okay?”

Gene gave a relaxed grin. “I’m curious. That’s all. But actually, I have some things to share with you. After that, I want you to think. Take your time, get some advice, and go talk to people; get their advice.”

“Sure,” Tom swallowed. His heart beat heavily. He could not imagine what Gene had in mind. He was only certain of one thing: it could not be worse than the death of his mother.

Gene handed a folder to Tom. “In this folder is the complete breakdown of the farm’s finances.”

“And it doesn’t look good?” Tom said.

“No,” Gene said, “it doesn’t. I’ve talked to some farmers, bankers, and accountants. I wanted sound advice. I’ll let you do the same.”

“Gene,” Tom smiled, “I know this is hard for you, so just save yourself some grief and get me to the bottom line; is it best we sell the farm?”

“That’s an option,” Gene said. “There is a huge debt. Your mom’s treatments weren’t covered by her health insurance, and the cost is, in my opinion, astronomical. Some of the money to finance Edgar’s education was a collateralized loan. That’s the money he owes.”

“And the only collateral is the farm, right?” Tom said.

“Exactly,” Gene said. “Katy did a masterful job of juggling money to pay incoming bills. It looks as if she and your dad had some stocks that could have helped greatly, but the company went bankrupt a little more than a year ago.”

“Is there a way out besides selling?” Tom asked. 

“As trustee, I can consolidate all debts and get a loan,” Gene said. “But I might have to put up some of my own collateral. Which I am willing to do with nothing more than a handshake and a look in the eye.”

“Nah, Gene, I can’t do that. I appreciate it, and I know it’s not an empty offer. In fact, I know you well enough that you’d like to do it, but I can’t let ya.”

“It’s not charity,” Gene said. “It’s friendship.”

“I know that,” Tom said, “but I just can’t.”

“The farm, as it is, can sustain itself,” Gene said, “and meet all financial obligations. But it’s like this, a guy has to pay a thousand dollars a month for rent and utilities, and he only makes a thousand a month.”

Tom interrupted, “In other words, I’d have to eat with the cattle.”

“No,” Gene said, “there’s not enough to feed you from that either.”

“To keep the farm, I would have to take on a job,” Tom said.

“Yes,” Gene said. 

“Well,” Tom said, “I went to school and worked the farm. I guess I could find a job and work the farm.”

“What about your education, college?” Gene asked.

Tom grinned and let out a quiet laugh. “That wasn’t my dream. That was Mom’s and Dad’s. I’m a farmer. That’s as good as a lawyer.”

“Better,” Gene smiled broadly and leaned back in his chair. “You don’t know how many days I leave this office and wished I were climbing down off a tractor.”

“So what did your advisors think?” Tom asked.

“I presented the idea of you working,” Gene said. “However, you're a bad crop away from bankruptcy anyway you look at it. It’s not good. I want you so badly to keep the farm. As a friend, a good friend, as a friend of your mom and dad, and as a trustee, we should consider selling the farm.”

“Should we consider keeping it?” Tom said.

“As a friend, a good friend, as a friend of your mom and dad, as a trustee, no, that is not a good consideration,” Gene said. 

Tom smiled. “But it still is a consideration, though not good.”

Gene laughed heartily. “You are just like your dad and mom.”

“You couldn’t have said more encouraging words or tossed a better compliment my way,” Tom said. He stood. “I got some work to do. How long do I have until a decision has to be made?”

“Have a nice winter,” Gene stood. He walked around his desk and shook Tom’s hand.

“March 1st,” Tom said. “I’ll let you know then. And do I have to get a job right away?”

“Nah,” Gene said and stood, “there’s enough for you to have a good winter. Just run the farm like you normally would.”

On the way home from Gene’s office, Tom wore a wry smile on his face. “Welcome to life he said. Sometimes life kicks you in the teeth, punches you in the gut, or kicks ya square in the butt. Life, what else do you have to offer?”

From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 7, The Speech

 This is episode seven of the novel, From Here To 1137. 

  If you would like to purchase "From  Here to 1137," it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or 

paperback.

The Speech

Tom drove back to the grange. Debbie waited for him at the door.

“Hi, Debbie,” Tom said. “I saw you at the funeral, but I didn’t get a chance to greet you. I really wanted to talk to you. I wanted to thank you again for the other night.”

“You had your hands full,” Debbie said. “I knew you would eventually get to me.”

She held onto his hand. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” Tom smiled. “Don’t I look good. I mean, I'm a little worse for wear, but it’s been a tough ten days. I’m not like I was a week ago. I was a mess.”

“I’m talking about you and Edgar,” Debbie said.

“Edgar,” Tom said, “he’s fine. He really had to get back.”

She smiled. “Don’t mess with me, Thomas Randolph Bales.”

“What?” Tom said, feigning innocence. “I would never do that.”

“I heard the conversations with Gene Francis and the one you had in the car with Edgar.”

“You were eavesdropping?” Tom asked. 

“No,” Debbie said, “of course not. I was in the women’s bathroom at the funeral home. It’s next to the room you, Edgar, and Gene Francis were in. It just took me longer to tinkle than normal. I heard it all. Then I went out to get in the car. My car was next to yours and a little behind it. I was afraid of starting the motor and letting you know I was there.”

“Well,” Tom said, “honestly, I’m not feeling so good. Edgar is right, we never did have a connection. He was like a distant god to me. I didn’t know him, but I worshipped his image and what I thought he was. He was like this guy who was away in some distant land. He was smart and good-looking and talented. He was going to make a name for himself. Everybody used to ask about him. Teachers in school wouldn’t ask me how I was doing; they asked me if I had heard from Edgar lately, and how is he doing? Tell him I said, hi.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Debbie said. “I know you as well as anyone does. You’re smart. And that family picture of you on the buffet.”

“When I was eleven,” Tom said.

“Edgar was a young man in that photo,” Debbie said. “You were a boy. You are now a young man. You’ve grown into those teeth and ears, quite handsomely, I must say.”

They gazed momentarily at each other.

“Let’s get inside,” Tom said. 

“Yeah,” Debbie said, “there are folks who have yet to express their sympathies.”

A few more people were at the grange hall than at the funeral home. A table was set up that displayed photos of Katy Bales. Many of them were taken at various grange events.

Hank Somers stood in front of the display of photos. He blew into a standing microphone. “Can I have your attention?” He paused and waited for everyone’s attention. “I said about all that could have been said at the funeral home. I thought Edgar might be around to speak for the family, but Tom told me he was working on some very important cases back in New York. So we’ll just leave it at that. I know you all wanted to hear from him. There’s plenty to eat. It just started to rain, so there’s nothing to do. Stick around and enjoy each other’s company.”

“Let’s hear from Tom,” a voice said from the back of the room. Everyone turned around. It was Gene Francis.

Everyone was quiet. 

Hank lifted his head, looking for Tom. On seeing him, he said, “You wouldn’t want to say something, would you?”

Mr. Trusdale, Debbie's father, yelled out, “I sure would like him to say something.”

Others chimed in. Hank motioned for Tom to come forward.

Tom begrudgingly walked to the microphone.

“It ain’t gonna bite you, son,” Hank said and stepped away.

Tom cleared his throat. He looked at Debbie. She smiled.

“The only times I’ve talked in front of people were book reports,” Tom said nervously. “I just finished The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway.” He chuckled. “I don’t ‘spose you want me to report on it. It was pretty boring.”

Laughter waved over the room.

Tom smiled embarrassingly. 

“I guess there were two sides to Mom. At home, she shone, but here, among you folks, she sparkled. Or maybe that’s the other way around. Either way, I think you get it. When Dad died, Mom picked up the flag and charged forward. She kept the farm going. Edgar went off to college. It was just her and me. Funny, the last ten days, I thought about all our times together. It was as if every little thing she did and said was thought out well beforehand. Her words were like works of art. They painted beautiful pictures full of meaning. Each stroke blended with the last and prepared for the next.”

Tom heaved a deep breath and smiled. “Thanks for being here.”

Everyone applauded. 

The reception continued.

  Tom received many handshakes and hugs.

Gene approached Tom after a couple of ladies had talked with him.

“Nicely done,” Gene said. 

“I wish you hadn’t have done that,” Tom said. “I thought I was going to wet myself. It would have been better if Edgar were doing it.”

“Balderdash,” Gene said, “Edgar would still be talking—about himself. You were the man to do it. Edgar hardly knows your Mom, and you do. And that’s nobody’s fault but his. Believe me, your mom and I had many conversations about Edgar. By the way, what happened to Edgar?”

“I drove Edgar to a car rental,” Tom said. “He rented a car and headed to the airport.”

“I thought that wasn’t supposed to be until later on,” Gene said.

“He was really upset,” Tom said. “I’m glad he wasn’t here. He probably would have said or done something he’d regret later.”

“I doubt that,” Gene said. “You’ll have to forgive me, but I know a different side to your brother and not from your mother. She never talked badly about him, only heartbroken and perplexed.”

  Gene handed Tom an envelope. “Inside are two copies of your mom’s will. Send one to Edgar. Also, there’s some cash in there. The cash is for one purpose and one purpose only.”

“And that would be,” Tom looked side-eyed at Gene.

“The purpose is after this shindig his over, take Debbie Truesdale to a movie, and after the movie take her to the best place in town.” 

Tom hesitated and grinned.

“Tom,” Gene said, “it’s raining. You can’t pick corn in the rain.”

Tom winked. “Thanks, Gene.”

Indeed, Tom and Debbie took in a movie, went bowling, and enjoyed a meal at the best restaurant in town.

From Here To 1137 AD; Episode 6, Goodbye, Edgar

 This is episode six of the novel, From Here To 1137. 

  If you would like to purchase "From  Here to 1137," it is available on Amazon in Kindle format or 

paperback.

Goodbye, Edgar

Edgar stormed away from the funeral home without speaking to anyone.

Tom and Gene walked out of the room. Gene stopped Tom in the hallway.

“Are you okay?” Gene asked. 

“Yeah, he’ll cool down,” Tom said.

“I’ve done these types of things for years,” Gene said. “Being left out of a will; well, some folks never recover. Prepare yourself, this may be the last time you’ll see your brother.”

“I hope not,” Tom said. 

They walked back into the funeral area. The crowd began to thin out. They were heading to the grange for the meal.

Tom walked out to the car. Edgar sat in the passenger's seat.

Tom opened the door and slid in.

“Look, Edgar, we can work this all out.”

“You have nothing to do with it,” Edgar said spitefully. “Didn’t you hear? It’s all in the hands of a two-bit dime store lawyer. He can’t wait to rub it in to a Harvard lawyer.”

“Gene’s not like that,” Tom said. “He’s a good and honest man.”

“Look, Edgar,” Tom said. “I don’t want anything to come between us.”

“Oh, little Tommy Gun,” Edgar said, “you are so thick. We’ve never been together. There are seven years between us. The only thing we have in common is our genes. I have to admit, you got the good looks, but you never had a lick of sense.”

“You’re hurt,” Tom said. “I get it. I’d be hurt too.”

Edgar chuckled. “You wouldn’t be hurt. You’re incapable of being hurt. If it were you, you wouldn’t even know what happened in there. Hurt! It’s devastating! If it were you, you would just say,” Edgar mocked dullard-like, ‘Well, yup, let’s go out and pick some corn.’”

“What did you expect to happen?” Tom asked.

“I expected it would be fair,” Edgar said. 

“And that would be?” Tom asked.

“Sell the farm and split it down the middle,” Edgar said.

“But mom had other ideas,” Tom said. “And to complicate things, you owed money. I had no idea.”

“Do you have any idea what that farm is worth?” Edgar asked.

“I haven’t even thought about it,” Tom said.

“Well over a couple hundred grand,” Edgar said.

“I didn’t know that,” Tom said.

“That’s it,” Edgar said, “you know nothing.”

“I know that you owe the farm money,” Tom said.

“Have fun holding that over my head,” Edgar said.

“I’m not,” Tom said. “It just seems that you’re talking down to me. You shouldn’t. A case can be made that you owe me big time. I worked up until midnight and went to school the next day. I didn’t go to school dances. I didn’t join any clubs. I got on the bus, came home, and worked on the farm. You know what’s under your name in your school annual? Achievements, varsity sports, clubs, homecoming king. You were in everything. You know what’s under my picture? Thomas Randolph Bales. That’s it. And it’s not with the Bs. They forget me and put me at the end. And some of the profits from the farm were paying your way. I did it because I love Mom and you. I’m proud of you, Edgar.”

“Mom slapped me in the face,” Edgar said bitterly. 

“She was trying to be fair,” Tom said. “Can’t you see, you have already received your inheritance?”

“You and your sweet little naive ways,” Edgar said. “You really won Mom over. That, I have to hand it to you.”

“That’s not so,” Tom said. “I knew nothing about your arrangements for college. I knew the farm was helping you out, but I never questioned anything. I just accepted that was the way it was.”

“I’m not going to the grange,” Edgar said. “Take me into town. The nearest car rental. I’m going back to the airport by myself. I’ll see if I can catch an early flight.”

“Okay, Edgar,” Tom said. “I can do that.”

Fifteen minutes later, Tom drove the car to a stop at a car rental agency. 

Edgar slid out and got his suit bag from the backseat. 

Tom got out and spoke over the roof of the car to Edgar. “I hate for this to end this way.”

“There was never a beginning,” Edgar said. “We’ve always been apart.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Tom said. “I was hoping we could do some things together as grown brothers. You know, hunt and fish together. Come to New York and hang out.”

“Tommy Gun,” Edgar said, “you wouldn’t fit.”

Tom watched Edgar walk up to the door of the car rental. 

“Hey, Edgar!”

Edgar turned around. “What?”

“Never call me Tommy Gun again.”