Chapter 21
Erik
There’s something different in the air in New Egypt.
Tension. Suspicion. I notice it as I walk through town.
The bank robbery has left some citizens rattled.
I suppose that’s understandable since they’re not used to crime.
A bank robbery is rare in their peaceful little world.
A peaceful little world we had to shatter, otherwise we’d be stuck here forever.
My call to the owner of the farm goes better than I expect it to.
The farm is owned by an old man named Harold.
His children moved away, his wife passed, and he wants to live closer to his grandchildren.
He needs to sell the farm to do that and he’s quite eager to do so.
He even offers to drop the price by ten percent before I get off the phone with him.
But I can’t buy the place without seeing it. As much as I would like to include Avery and my brothers, I think it’ll be less intimidating if I’m the only one who shows up. Except I can’t appear out of thin air or show up on four paws. I need transportation.
“Let me check the classified section,” I say, flipping open the newspaper.
A car dealership seems risky. A private sale would be safer.
Luckily, there are plenty of people looking to get rid of old cars.
I make a few calls, arrange to see the one that sounds the most promising, and a few minutes later, I am exchanging stolen gold for a used Chevrolet truck that has almost as much rust as paint.
I give them a fake name, Eric Smith. The last name is extremely common on this world and the first name matches the spelling of mine that is traditional here. The seller doesn’t seem to care. He signs the title, takes the gold, and hands it over.
“Pleasure doing business, Mr. Smith,” he says, holding out his hand.
“Likewise, this truck should come in handy on my farm.” I shake his hand.
Once the deal is made, I get behind the steering wheel and crank up the truck. The engine rattles. Smoke pours from the exhaust. It’s not the best truck in the world, but it’ll get me where I need to go. It should also blend in on the farm, if we end up purchasing it.
The truck makes me question if it actually will get me where I need to go when it sputters several times once I’m on the highway.
After that, it seems to be fine, but there’s still a whine in one of the tires and some rattling under the hood.
I’ll have to have a peek once I can. Maybe I can fix it up some.
I spot the farm and turn down the dirt road that leads to it. The truck backfires when I get close to the house and Harold comes running outside. It’s more hobble than run, but it looks like he’s moving faster than he normally would consider his age.
“Sorry!” I call out as I turn off the truck. “This thing needs some work.”
“Scared me half to death, son,” Harold says, putting his hand on his chest. “You Eric Smith? The guy I spoke with?”
“Yes, sir,” I answer, remembering to tip my hat to him. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“What would you like to see first?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips. “There’s ten acres for the cattle. Ten acres for the corn. Another ten for the house and the barn, but you could easily add more crops if there’s something you want to grow.”
“I guess you can show me the barn first,” I say, gesturing to it. “Then the house.”
“Alright, you got it,” Harold says, turning toward the barn.
Harold is probably in his early to mid-sixties. He’s wearing overalls and a cap with the name of the company that makes his tractors, based on what I see when I follow him to the barn.
“You get everything you see,” Harold says. “I’m not taking anything with me except my clothes and a few family heirlooms. My daughter offered to put the furniture in storage, but I’d rather just get rid of it, so you get that too.”
I listen to him, but the barn is my primary concern. It needs to hold our ship, and while it’s not the biggest transport in the Intergalactic Alliance’s fleet, it’s still big enough that it won’t fit through the barn doors. If we can get it inside, though, there should be plenty of room.
“Lots of space,” I say, looking around the barn.
“There’s a smaller one for the horses.” He gestures to one in the distance. It’s small and would never hold the ship, so I just nod.
“This should suffice.” I turn to him. “Mind showing me the house?”
“Not at all. Follow me.”
The house is pretty run down. The steps creak and dip under my weight.
The porch has seen better days. When we step inside, there’s some mustiness in the air, and I detect some mildew.
Likely from some leaks that have been neglected long enough for water to seep in.
We could afford something much better than this, but this isn’t bad for the price, especially if the furniture is included.
“How many bedrooms?” I ask.
“Five bedrooms, four bathrooms,” Harold answers. “We used to have a smaller house here, but after the third baby was born, we needed more room, so I got to work. Built this place for us. I had some help, of course, but I did most of it.”
“Impressive,” I say, since he seems proud of the accomplishment. “And you’re sure you want to sell?”
“I thought I’d die here, surrounded by my kids and grandkids,” Harold says.
“Hell, thought my wife would outlive me too. But you know what they say about assumptions. It just wasn’t Morlock’s will.
My kids like living in the city. None of them want to take over the family farm like I did when my dad passed.
Might as well make it easier for them and enjoy the time I have left. ”
“Understandable,” I say. “I’ll need to discuss this with my family, but I think this may be exactly what we’re looking for. Since you offered to take ten percent off, the price is fair.”
“Want everything you see, or should I tell my daughter that we’ll need somewhere to store a few things?” he asks.
“If we buy it, we’ll take everything,” I reply. “Anything we don’t want, we’ll dispose of it. Take anything of sentimental value, of course.”
“I plan to,” Harold says. “My kids would have my hide if I left their mother’s things behind.”
“It’ll take me a few days to get the funds together,” I lie. “But I’ll be in touch. I’ll let you know for sure tomorrow whether or not we have a deal.”
“Sounds good,” Harold says, offering his hand.
I shake his hand, say goodbye, and walk back to the truck. This farm looks like our best option. We’ll have to split the work up, and there will be plenty of it to go around, but it’ll be a much better place to live than the cave.
I drive back to the trail that leads to the cave and park as close as I can. I make the rest of the trip on four paws, stopping to check on the ship before I continue on the cave. I can smell something cooking when I get closer. Deer, which means Sigurd’s hunt must have been successful.
“Welcome back, brother,” Ivar says as I walk inside.
Sigurd and Ivar are gathered around the fire. Ivar’s cooking dinner. Our mate is passed out on our fur bed. She’s naked, and there’s enough evidence dried on her thighs for me to know that my brothers kept her busy while I was gone.
“How’s the farm?” Sigurd asks. “We moving soon?”
“I think so,” I reply. “I told the old man who owns it that it will take me a few days to get the gold together to buy it. Seemed like that would be less suspicious than plopping down a bag of it on his kitchen table.”
“I’d like to see it before we commit,” Ivar says. “I trust your judgment, but if we’re going to live there, we should get a lay of the land. Make sure there are no neighbors that will snoop around.”
“Yes, I plan to do some reconnaissance over the course of the next couple nights,” I agree. “You guys are welcome to come. It’ll go faster if there’s three of us.”
“I wouldn’t mind a run,” Sigurd growls.
Ivar pulls the deer off the fire and starts carving it up. Sigurd wakes our mate and she sits up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She gets excited when she sees me and walks over to give me a hug.
I tell them all about the farm over dinner. Everyone seems excited about it, especially Avery. I’m sure living in a cave is far worse accommodations than she was expecting when we promised her a new life on Midgard.
We’ll get home one day.
But for now, we’ll have somewhere safe to hide out until I get the ship repaired.