15 for 15 Contest --- Closed

Russell Marquardt fought floods, tornadoes, and an earthquake and came out even—which in the small farm business meant victory. Through it all, he raised three sons and sent them all to college, losing one to war. He also brought two beautiful daughters into the world and saw them reach success in family and career. His wife and he had lived through the leanest of times, surviving an entire winter on oatmeal and eggs and another on even sparser rations.

They had won through it all. Nothing could beat the Marquardts, until a bug the size of Russell’s fingernail waged war on them.

He noticed the yellowing on the wheat early in the season. He found some winged aphids on some plants, and he sprayed the fields a few days later, but the virus had spread—yellow dwarf.

The Marquardt farm lived on the edge of ruin since Marquardt could remember. Sure, there were some bad years, but a low yield just meant a few less extravagances that year. With the big business farms chomping at the heels of the small farms like hellhounds, the yellow dwarf virus was likely an end of days for Russell’s acreage.

As he studied the blackened tops of some plants at the edge of the fields, Louise came up behind him and hugged him.

“It’s bad, ain’t it Russ?”

“It’s over, Lou. We’re gonna have to sell.” Russell’s eyes glossed over. Louise had never seen such pain on the toughest man she’d ever met. “Better call them corporate vultures. We got no choice.”

Louise squeezed him tighter and forced a smile. “It’s a good deal, Russ. We can retire on what they give us.”

“I wanted to leave it to the children.”

“They don’t want it or need it, Russ. They ain’t farmers like their old-fashioned folks. They got good lives. They don’t need the headaches of a little farm.”

*

They didn’t send one man to topple the Marquardts’ pride. They sent a team of executives who likely had no idea what the difference was between a bushel and a bale of hay. They all had suits worth more than Russell’s pickup and silk ties that could be sold for ten of his best Sunday outfits.

“I’m glad to see you’ve finally decided to sell to us, Mr. Marquardt. It’s a wise decision.”

“I ain’t got much choice. Some rare aphids got loose and only affected my farm. Damndest thing, that.”

A look passed between the suits that gave Russell an uncomfortable feeling.

“So you got Yellow Dwarf Virus. We heard the news. We are sorry to hear that. It will destroy the year’s harvest we understand.”
“I couldn’t stop it. That’s why we are here. I’m ready to take your offer.”

The head suit showed brilliant white teeth. “You realize that the offer will be considerably lower, don’t you, Sir?”