by Ali Parker
I grabbed my binder from the shelf and began to look through my experiments for the day.
“So if you aren’t up for man hunting, will you at least be my wing man this weekend at the bar? You know I hate going alone,” she begged.
“Fine. I’ll go,” I said.
“Yes! That’s the spirit,” she said.
I laughed and buttoned my lab coat, ready to get started. I felt a chill run through me as I always did when I was about to start my work in the lab. This was where I truly belonged. It was my passion and I knew that must be true if I’d been willing to return to Safety, Texas for it.
After visiting the town during the summers every other year to stay with my father, I had not been back since I was thirteen. That seemed like ages ago.
“So what exactly do you do in here?” Jenna asked, coming to my side.
“I’m very glad that you asked,” I said with a smile. She rolled her eyes at me.
“See these petri dishes here. I’m growing various kinds of fungi that attack plants. Whole crops can be lost to them. These little things could cost billions of dollars and more than that it can cause produce prices to soar. It’s a very fine line to walk,” I said, feeling myself getting excited.
“Billions of dollars? These little things,” she said looking over my shoulder.
“Oh yeah absolutely. But it’s more than just that. In third world countries, crop loss leads to famine and starvation, so this is all very important,” I said proudly.
“Wow, I didn’t realize what you did was so complex. I should visit you more often,” Jenna said.
“Miss Dryer,” a male voice interrupted from the doorway.
“Hello Mr. Phillips. Jenna, this is my senior advisor, Mr. Phillips. He oversees my research,” I said, introducing the two.
“Nice to meet you,” Jenna said.
Mr. Phillips barely acknowledged her as he walked in. “I need to speak with you about a project—in private.”
“That’s my cue. I’ll call you later Madison,” Jenna grabbed her bag from the bench and walked out.
“What is it?” I asked.
It was then that I noticed a large brown paper bag in his hand. He opened it and pulled out another bag, a clear plastic gallon sized zip lock bag.
“A specimen?” I asked, looking at the wheat inside as he handed it to me.
“Yes, but this is not part of our regular research. This was brought in by the Sheriff,” he said.
“Sheriff? What? Why?” I was completely confused, though intrigued.
“It seems that someone has been intentionally ruining crops all over the county.”
“No—why would anyone do such a thing?” I said, looking at the wheat a little closer through the plastic film.
“The same reason people do anything—money.”
“That is just awful. The plants don’t deserve this!” I said growing angry.
“Look into it. See if you can see what it is. I don’t know if it has been sprayed with a chemical, or a root chemical in the soil. It could be microscopic mites for all we know. Just look at everything possible and do it in the quarantine room,” he said.
“Yes sir. Crime and crops? You can count on me! I’ll do it!” I said that in way that came out geekier than it should have.
“You really need to get out more,” Mr. Phillips commented as he walked out.
I watched as he left. “Great, first Jenna, and now my advisor. They both think I’m a total social loser,” I sighed.
But the insult only fazed me for a moment. Quickly, I picked up the bag with excitement. “Alright little guy. Let’s see what is making you sick.”
3
Tanner
“What secrets are you hiding?” I whispered, as I looked over a stalk of corn shooting out from the ground in front of me. The leaves were wilting and turning brown. After spending all Monday looking over the crops, I still had no answers.
By Monday afternoon I had decided the best course of action was to immediately cut down a large swath of corn. We took down about thirty rows separating the sick corn from the good corn, like a firebreak. I could only hope this would slow the spread down.
But today I was doing more than just looking at the corn. I was walking along the road on the outside of the crops. I was looking for tire marks, gum wrappers, anything that the crop assassin could have left behind.
Clop. Clop. The sound drew my attention.
“I had to take them for a run! They were antsy as if they had fire ants in their pants!” Abi said, riding Sunshine, the yellow mare toward me. Behind her, Thunder, the white stallion, followed.
“That makes three of us! I’m anxious as well,” I said. She stopped in front of me.
“Get on. Let’s take them for a run in the pastures. Get some of that angst out of you,” she said.
“Alright,” I said. “Hello Thunder,” I rubbed his head while Abi untied his reins from her horn. She handed them to me and I mounted him.
We slowly crossed the road to the pastures that sat opposite our crop fields.
“Any leads on what’s going on?” she asked.
“No, not yet. But I’m thinking it’s not any sort of mites or bugs cause there’s no sign that the crops are being eaten away,” I said.
“Well that’s good news. It’s harder to stop an infestation,” she said.
“Yes, that is true. But at least with an infestation you know what you are dealing with. This is something deeper. A virus probably.” I trailed off thinking, wishing I had access to the lab I worked in at college. That was what those labs were used for and it helped to have the proper equipment for this type of analysis. But father wasn’t one to think a lab was a necessary part of a farm.
“Whatever it is, I need to stop it. We can’t go without a corn yield this year after last year’s drought. That would be two hits in a row,” I said.
“I know you’ll figure it out, Tanner. You always do,” Abi said.
“Thanks Abi.”
“I mean, you are kind of a nerd, and that’s what nerds do,” she said, teasing me.
I gave her a look. “But do nerds win horse races?” I spurred Thunder and he bolted.
“Not fair! That’s a head start!” she shouted, as she moved Sunshine into a gallop. It felt good to dart across the pasture. Thunder was running hard.
“Woohoo!” I shouted, feeling the exhilaration of the great beast underneath me. I could tell that Thunder was just as anxious to burn off some energy. I turned over my shoulder to see Abi leaning low on Sunshine as she was right on my heels. Abi was a mean horse rider. It was her responsibility on the farm to oversee the horses. It had always been her passion. She went from a little girl wanting a pony to an extremely smart woman that knew a lot about horses, did a few barrel racing competitions, and was contemplating the veterinary sciences. But she still couldn’t beat her brothers in a horse race—but then again, we always cheated.
I got to the end of the pasture and pulled the reins. Thunder let out an exhilarated huff, he too was feeling satisfied.
“You boys are always cheating” Abi said, stopping behind me.
I just grinned at her. “Thanks for that. It was just what I needed. You were right about Thunder, he needed it, too.”
“I’m always right when it comes to the animals—brothers on the other hand, not so much,” she laughed.
“Let’s get them back to the barn and get them some water, and by them I mean me,” I said.
We turned the horses and started a slow pace back toward the main complex of the farm. The buildings included the main house, an old white Victorian with a wrap-around porch, the large red barn, two massive silos, and a few small cottages for farmhands to stay when we needed extra hands. Just beyond those buildings were the stables, corrals, hog pens, chicken coops and more. It was a vast network that took each of us hours to maintain, but we all loved it.
“Off on a joy ride while we work our asses off?” Dylan said, restacking hay in the corne
r of the stables as Abi and I walked the horses in.
“Hey! Cut me some slack. Running the horses is a chore,” Abi bit back.
“Yeah, but you pick up that stray just so he can unsaddle Thunder for you. Smart move, Sis,” Connor said, gesturing to me.
“All part of my devious plan,” Abi played along.
“Is it lunch yet? My stomach is eating itself,” Connor said, pushing a wheelbarrow across the stable.
“We just had mid-morning meal,” Wyatt said, walking in with a clipboard and pen.
“Yes Father!” Connor joked.
Wyatt just rolled his eyes and went down the line of stable pens marking off his daily checks. He was very organized and that included meals. Mid-morning meal happened at around 10:30 each morning. Since we ate breakfast at dawn we needed something to hold us over until the 1 o’clock lunch hour. It usually consisted of light sandwiches, fruit, coffee and gallons of water.
“I got some beef jerky in my pouch over there!” Dylan shouted at Connor.
“Thank the heavens!” Connor said, stopping the wheelbarrow halfway along and pulling off his gloves. He moved to the table that was littered with tools, bags, and water jugs. I walked over as he dug into a leather bag and pulled out a large bag of jerky. I grabbed a piece and sat on the table.
“So Professor, did you figure out the big crop mystery yet?” Connor said, looking at me.
“No, I didn’t figure it out in under forty-eight hours, Connor,” I said, feeling annoyed.
“Yeah Connor, it’s not like on TV where things are figured out in a matter of hours!” Abi hollered at him while she brushed down Sunshine.
Dylan laughed. “Connor thinks real life mysteries are like the Scooby-Doo cartoons!”
Everyone roared into a ruckus of teasing and laughing at him. I could not help but to poke him in the ribs to go along with it.
“Alright! Alright! You’ve had your fun—you animals!” Connor said, turning red.
“What’s all this? I can hear y’all clear out to my truck. What’s that wheelbarrow doing haphazardly in the middle of the stable like that? Why is Thunder roaming around with a saddle and not being taken care of?” Father said, coming into the stable.
We all snapped to with a collective, “Sorry Father.”
“Bullshitting around when there’s work to be done,” Father mumbled. “Tanner!”
“Yes sir!”
“Outside son! Now!” he said, then turned and walked out of the stable.
“Ooh, Tanner’s gonna get it now,” Dylan teased.
“Shut it,” I said, pointing at him. He just laughed wildly.
“Yes sir,” I said, walking to the corral. Father was leaning on the railing watching the horses do some turns inside it.
“You’re used to the college scene and labs and what not,” he said.
“Yes sir, I am,” I said, pulling off my straw cowboy hat and wiping the sweat from my brow.
“Good. I’ve called in a favor. I want you to go to town to the local college. Take a sample of our sick corn. I have a friend there that said he would take a look.”
“When?”
“Today. Now. Get to it. Time is important here. Ask for Mr. Phillips in the agriculture research building. He’s expecting you,” father said then walked off.
“Yes sir! I’m on it,” I said.
I jogged back inside the stables.
“Wyatt! Father’s sending me to town. I’ve not done the—”
“Yeah, yeah got it. We’ll fill in for you. Connor! Dylan! Looks like you’ll be splitting Tanner’s work til he gets back!”
“Son of a—” Dylan said.
“Damn it. Why can’t father send me?” Wyatt complained.
I locked eyes with Abi and she nodded. She let out a piercing whistle and Thunder trotted over to her. She would have to unsaddle and groom him.
I quickly ran inside and got what I needed—a large plastic bin, the keys to my truck, and my machete. I drove out to the crop line on the main road and filled the bin with some sick samples and closed it. Then I drove off into town. I was excited to be around a research lab again, even if just for a few hours.
4
Madison
“I just love the little breakfast tacos they have here,” Jenna said, biting into a potato and egg taco.
“Yes thanks for inviting me to brunch. I have not gone to the grocery store so I have no food at my apartment,” I said.
“You never have food at your apartment. You’re not much for cooking,” she said.
“Well I’m busy with my research you know,” I said. “Especially now—”
“What do you mean?” she said with a mouthful, which made us both laugh.
“There’s some sort of mysterious virus going on with the crops in this town. Mr. Phillips said the Sheriff thinks someone released it intentionally,” I said.
“You’re kidding,” Jenna said, sarcastically.
“Nope. It’s true.”
“Oh dear Lord. Leave it to Safety to have some sort of crop related mystery going on. Nothing exciting ever happens ‘round here and then this pops up,” Jenna said, rolling her eyes.
“I think it’s fascinating. I mean it’s horrible for the farmers and I hope we can stop it, but it will be good for my research. I could publish it and everything if I figure it out,” I said with a smile, then bit into my huevos rancheros plate.
“Ooh, fancy, my famous friend that cracked the case of the sick crops in the little ol’ Texas town. Will you be in National Geographic and everything?” Jenna said with fake excitement, pretending to have stars in her eyes.
“Oh hush,” I said.
She laughed. “Pass me the green sauce will ya. It’s soooo good.”
“Here. I prefer the red anyway,” I said, handing her the bottle of green sauce in the condiment bottle.
“You know. I bet one of the Dawson boys has something to do with this. Those reckless boys are always up to no good. Don’t get me wrong, they are fine as hell—but always in trouble,” Jenna said.
“What? The Dawson family? No. They are the biggest producers in town. They practically built this town off what they yield from their farm,” I said, as I put my fork down and stared at her.
“Yeah, exactly! So they probably got greedy. Some other farmer is probably about to produce a big yield that would drive down the cost of what the Dawson family can sell. So they go out and ruin the crops of other farmers. Really, you need to start watching them detective shows on TV. That’s what it’s about all the time,” she said, as though she was an expert on solving mysteries.
I just laughed. “No, no, no. Why would the biggest farmers in town release something that could potentially make its way to their farm and ruin their crops? It would be one thing if fields were being burned down, but this is a virus. It is contagious,” I said.
“Ew. Are you going to catch it,” she said, suddenly looking somber.
I laughed. “No you idiot! Plants only!”
“Well you see. Them Dawson boys are somehow connected to this. There’s not a month that goes by that people in the salon aren’t talking about something or other one of those boys did. Did you know they stole Ol’ Pete’s wooden rowboat in the middle of the night? They were drunk and decided they wanted to go for a drunken paddle out on the creek. They crashed it of course and then their pa made them work off the debt to Ol’ Pete so he could buy another. They have no decency whatsoever. If they weren’t so attractive I wouldn’t even stare at their Wrangler butts at the damn dance hall because of all the mayhem they’ve caused,” she said.
I started to giggle so hard at her ridiculous words I almost choked on my food, which only made her laugh as well.
“Oh Jenna, you are hilarious,” I said.
“Well, I’m glad you think so. I am so glad you came to live in Safety again,” she said, as we went back to eating.
We were quiet for a few minutes as we enjoyed our delicious Tex-Mex brunch. I would have to remember to
order something to go.
“So—have you spoke to him?” Jenna asked, timidly.
I sighed. “No. I have not.”
“You’ve been here for months. You can’t avoid it forever—he’s been calling you,” she said.
“Are you going to ruin my brunch?” I asked.
“Fine. Not another word about it,” she said.
Thank goodness. I had been avoiding the subject of my father since I returned to Safety. I did plan on visiting him eventually. I just wasn’t sure when there would be a time that he would not be drunk. So instead, I just avoided it all together and didn’t want to be reminded that I would have to deal with it on a daily basis.
After brunch I went to the lab. I was excited about going in, of course. I was deep in agricultural detective mode and searching for answers. I loved my work in research and this new mystery had lit a fire under me.
“Madison,” Mr. Phillips walked into the lab.
“Hello, what’s up,” I said, cheerfully.
“I have another sample for you today,” he said.
“Of the ruined crops? Great, let’s see it,” I said.
“It’s not here yet. It’s being brought in later. I’m close friends with the guy’s father and he doesn’t want this information out there. So do me a favor and keep it under wraps,” he said.
“Alright. I can do that,” I said. “Which farm is this one from?”
“It’s from the Dawson Ranch,” he said. “Tanner Dawson is bringing in the sample. I believe its corn. He should be here in a couple of hours,” he said, heading back to the door.
I stood there, frozen. Dawson Ranch? Of course I had heard the name Tanner Dawson. Who hadn’t heard the names of the boys of that family? But I had never actually seen any of them before. But I did think it strange that they were a topic of conversation at brunch for their devious ways, and now I was going to be face to face with one. I sighed. This would be interesting.
