The Farm
Page 25
“Good day, gentlemen,” Mr. Whyte says, addressing the new recruits. “I am Mr. Whyte. I am the owner of this farm, and I take great pride in it. I expect you to do the same.” He pauses and I imagine him curling his upper lip, the thick, dark mustache rising up into his nose the way it did when I first saw him. “This man to my right is Mr. Green. And the man to my left is…”
“I’m Larry.”
I close my eyes and can literally see Larry waving to the group, and Mr. Whyte shaking his head right now.
Mr. Whyte continues. “In the past, we’ve done things a certain way.” He pauses. “But no more. Things are about to change.”
“We’re going to do things differently,” Larry restates.
Another awkward pause.
I wish I were there.
“What the hell is this place?” a voice calls out from the line. “What’s going on?”
“All of your questions will be answered in time, I promise. But for now, I leave you in the care of my farmhands. I expect you to treat them with respect, and they will do the same in turn.”
Larry pulls the device from his pocket just enough for a tilted image of Mr. Whyte to come into view. The landowner folds his hands behind his back and inclines a courteous nod to the line.
“Welcome to the farm.”
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