by Reed, N. C.
“How do you make money? That’s been a big one so far, so I’ll answer that now as best I can. Many of you have talents and trades that will do well in this environment. To name a few examples, there is Darrell with his forging, Evelyn with her soaps and oils and what not, Lainie with clothes, though she’s not alone there, and the Webb’s with leather gear. We may as time goes on find a way to make decent candles or else a candle alternative, or maybe to create black powder, and so on.”
“For those with products to sell, it can be done one of two ways through the store; either by commission, where the store gets a percentage of the purchase price for selling your products, or by selling directly to the store, providing they have a market for your things, and then the store reselling it for their own profit. You can always sell your things directly of course, and I will certainly encourage you to do so, though for the time being that will require you to work out a way to deliver your product at least as far as the store if not out to the highway because we are not in a position to allow strangers or outsiders onto the farm. We may at some point try to arrange for the store to be closer to the road, but for now it will be here close, where we can keep an eye on it. That is not open for negotiation. None of it, just to clarify.”
“Jobs. There are people who work for the farm who will be put on the payroll to help us manage. It takes a lot of work to manage this place and we can’t do it alone. Further, there are people who do jobs that honestly only the farm can pay for, like Operations, or the Orphanage, or Security. There will be others whose services we need to keep the farm going, and Gordon will be dealing with them, working out a fee for those services when and as the farm needs them.”
“The farm will not be paying for work in the gardens,” Clay decided the time had come for a bit of the bad news. He nodded at the chorus of complaints that came from the crowd in general.
“Sorry, folks,” Clay held up a hand to quieten the group. “Those gardens feed you, feed all of us, and everyone will still be required to put in their hours. If you want to pay someone to do your work, that’s fine so long as it’s worked out in advance. If the hours aren’t done then there will be a penalty assessed for the person who was scheduled originally to do the hours, which will go to the person who had to fill in when no one showed up. We’ll have to appoint a manager for the gardens since there will be well over one hundred acres of garden spread over the farm this year. Everyone will answer to that manager for their hours. The rule is simple; you don’t work, then you’ll have to be responsible for your own meals. That’s about as fair as I can make it.”
“As to that, meals and lodging will remain as they always have been. There won’t be any charge for either one. Remember that there is no kitchen staff, however, and that you are responsible for the cooking in your own community. If some of you want to work out a trade with a better cook, that’s fine. Someone might, for instance, trade their cooking hours for garden work, freeing up a better cook for kitchen duty. That’s between individuals and none of my concern. Remember to keep the people responsible for those areas apprised of your trading. Note that they have the right and responsibility to start limiting said trades if it becomes a burden when people don’t show up like they’re supposed to.”
“We need to get paid for that!” someone yelled from the crowd, and several heads nodded in agreement. Clay didn’t catch the voice.
“Okay,” Clay nodded amiably. “Then I start charging you for rent and meals. If I’m paying you then you’ll have money, right?”
“That ain’t fair!”
“Of course, it is,” Clay kept his voice reasonable. “You’re working to put food on the table, but you still expect me to somehow pay you. I have to have a way to make that money back, so I’ll make it charging room and board. I can’t just pay you to work for yourselves. I won’t last long that way.”
This time the head nodding was on Clayton’s side he was glad to see. He’d like to have seen all of them nodding, but it looked like he had a firm majority and he’d take that for now.
“Can we try to salvage stuff from off the farm?” someone asked. Again, Clay couldn’t catch the voice.
“Not until we’re sure that the plague is gone,” Clay replied. “Once we know for sure that it’s done, then I have no objection so long as you realize that we will not be responsible for your safety. Can’t be, for that matter. I would advise against it, myself, but that’s just me. No one is a prisoner here and never has been. That said, if anyone leaves before we’re at least reasonably certain the plague is gone, they need to take their belongings with them because they won’t be allowed back on the farm. The risk is too great for the rest of us. I know that sounds harsh, but disease running rampant through us all will be much harsher. I won’t risk it.”
“I think that covers the basics, at least as we have them for now,” he concluded. “Do be aware that this entire thing is just a plan at this point. We do not have a timeframe for implementing it yet, as there are still terms to work out as well as logistics to deal with. We will try to give a two- or three-week warning when we’re getting ready to open things up. Until then, things will continue as they have been. With that in mind, I’ll do my best to answer any questions that I can, assuming you have any.”
They had plenty.
-
“Good grief,” Clay collapsed into his office chair, promptly emptying the water bottle that Lainie had passed him. Once it was empty, she carried it to a water cooler to refill it.
“I did warn you,” she told him.
“I know, and you were right,” Clay agreed.
“A lot of ingrates on this farm,” Greg grumped from his chair.
“I don’t think they’re ingrates,” Clay shook his head, smiling his thanks at Lainie as he accepted the water bottle back. “Most of the people that were complaining have been hard working since they got here. Not fair to call them ingrates just for trying to get the best situation they can, whether for themselves or their families.”
“That’s true, I guess,” Greg allowed, face wrinkled with thought. “Hadn’t really gone down the list.”
“Anyway, we’ve still got some ways to go yet,” said Clay. “Right, Miss Manager?”
“You really enjoy sleeping on the floor, don’t you?” Lainie smiled, but it was an evil looking smile that made Greg get to his feet.
“Ohh-kay,” he drew the word out slowly. “I can see I need to be…yeah, I need to be over…over there. Somewhere over that way. See you two later,” he tossed over his shoulder as he was already out the door.
“Even your friends know better,” Lainie snorted.
“Well, it is a well-known fact that you should never kick a sleeping dragon,” Clay laughed, wrapping his arms around her before she could escape.
“And now I’m a monster,” Lainie looked at him, a severe frown formed across her beautiful features.
“Everyone knows dragons are beautiful,” Clay scoffed, kissing her quickly on the tip of her nose.
“And that they can burn you,” she reminded him, eyebrow raised.
“Are you really that unhappy with it?” Clay asked, suddenly very serious. It caught her by surprise.
“Seriously, tell me,” Clay urged. “If you’re really that unhappy with things, then please, say so and just…refuse. I’ll get someone else. I promise there are people who would love to have the job, or think they would, anyway. They just don’t realize yet how much work it might be.”
“No,” Lainie sighed. “I mean yes, I am unhappy with it, but it’s purely for selfish reasons. I didn’t want to give up my little kingdom in T1, that’s all.”
“Uh…kingdom?” Clay was confused now for sure.
“My sewing center,” Lainie nodded. “When I’m over there, I can lock everything else away and just sort of…forget about it, I guess. Just for that time that I’m working. I love to create things and working in the sewing center is very rewarding from a helping others standpoint. I feel like I’m doing
a good thing and that in doing so, I’m really helping the population here. That, plus that isolation feeling I would get make it a wonderful job.”
“I’ll find someone else,” Clay said at once, never hesitating. “No problem.”
“No,” Lainie shook her head. “Like I said, it’s selfish. Others can sew just as well as I can. Not many others have the business experience that I do. Or an ownership stake, either. No one else would be allowed to shirk something they were good at. I shouldn’t be able to either.”
“That’s very self-sacrificing,” Clay complimented. “There also aren’t a lot of people who would take that route when another was available. I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he smirked, kissing her again on the nose.
“Liked?” she raised an eyebrow, looking him in the eye. “Like is the best you can come up with?”
“Well, it sounded better than ‘tolerate’, so I thought I’d-OW!” he stopped, grabbing his rapidly bruising arm.
“Jackass.”
-
Clay studied the organization table on his desk, trying to find any holes or other problems before he shared it with Jose for his input. Most of the people on medical leave after the battle were now returning to duty, which was good news indeed. Losing such a chunk of their qualified security personnel had hurt, in more ways than one. Getting those who could recover back to work would ease the strain that had been felt over the past two months.
After a lot of thinking on the subject, Clay had decided that the remainder of his old team along with Gordy, Zach, Heath, Titus Terry and Kurtis Montana, would remain separate from the rest as a force that could be deployed away from the farm when there was a need. Should Heather Patton and Carrie Jarrett pass the course, they would be added to that team and be classified as full-time security. This group would still be part of the farm’s defense and would help stand watches with the others but would remain separate from the rest as their own group.
Of the people who had arrived with Flores, only the three military police offices could honestly be considered combat personnel. Rather than add the military police officers to the security force, however, Clay was considering using them as an actual police force on the farm. Sienna Newell had been an MP and would make an excellent supervisor, and Greg was still the sheriff of Calhoun County, appointed by the military commander at the time. With the three MP officers led by Greg and Sienna helping where needed, there would be a proficient police force to deal with any domestic or home-grown disturbances, should the need arise. All of them would still be available to help defend the farm in an emergency.
The remainder of all combat forces on the farm would be combined into one united defense force covering all defenses and watches. Leaving Jose as his second in command as well as commanding the old group, Clay slotted Faron Gillis in as commander of defensive forces for the entire farm. That would leave Flores in charge of all non-combat related defense functions, such as supply and training.
While it would not be her job to do actual training, it would be her responsibility to ensure that all defense forces had passed their training and were all current on their qualifications. Flores would be responsible for supervising those assigned to work in areas of firearms care and maintenance among any others. This would give Clay someone to yell at when things didn’t get done properly or on time. Their supply situation was ably managed by Kandi Ledford with support from the twins and now from the supply specialist that had arrived with the rest of the Headquarters Group.
It had been a simple decision to place Gordon in charge of farm operations since he was the single most experienced farmer on the entire place. Dee Talbot and Terri Hartwell would fall under his supervision, as would Gail Knight, Charley Wilmeth and Samantha Walters. Anyone assigned to farming or livestock operations even part time, such as Ronny Tillman and Clay himself, would also answer to Gordon when working those positions. For the gardening supervisor he had chosen Dottie Greer, though placing her, and the gardens, under Gordon’s overall supervision as well.
Mechanics would be Jake’s area, supported part-time by Sienna Newell and including the new military mechanic, Pacifico Aroha. There would be others assigned to them on an as needed basis for extra hands and labor, but those three would be the primary mechanics, at least to start.
He decided to leave other operations the way they were for the present, since they all were currently functioning without difficulty. There might come a time when changes would need to be made, but he felt that he was already going to be upsetting the workflow enough by making the other changes, since they would be done rather quickly and all within the same week. In fact, he-,
His thinking stopped at a knock on his door. He looked up to find Xavier of all people, standing in the doorway.
“X, come on in,” Clay leaned back in his chair. “How’s it going?”
“I believe things are going well for the moment,” Xavier replied, taking a seat across from Clay. “Tomorrow is a new day, of course,” he added drily.
“Ain’t it though,” Clay snorted. “I noticed you and Leanne sparring yesterday but couldn’t get over there to watch. How is she doing?”
“She hip-tossed me yesterday, alone and unassisted,” Xavier bragged slightly. “She is remarkably determined for one so unaccustomed to violence. She is doing well not only with me, but also with Tandi. A true fighter, that one.”
“Well, you’ve met the rest of the family,” Clay snorted. “No other way to survive around here.”
“I suspect that to be true,” Xavier laughed.
“I saw you with another student a couple days ago,” said Clay. “How is Amanda doing? Getting back into shape?”
“Funny you should ask,” Xavier smiled, and Clay groaned.
“Now what?” he asked, resting his forehead in his cupped hands.
“No, no, nothing like that,” Xavier waved the coming complaint aside. “She is doing rather well, especially considering the damage she suffered. It was fortunate for her that Doctor Thatcher was here or else she might not have recovered. We are indeed smiled upon by Fickle Fate to have your sister-in-law with us, but I do believe repairing Amanda’s damaged abdomen might have been beyond her skill set.”
“Might have been,” Clay nodded slowly. “Can’t ever be sure with Patty. She worked a lot of ER shifts at Vandy, so I’m sure she saw her share of gunshot wounds. But that was a while back, too. So, what about Amanda, then, if she’s not causing problems,” he chuckled.
“She noticed Miss Patton and Miss Jarrett preparing for their training to attempt wearing the Skull and Bones,” Xavier replied. “She is…interested in following them, once she has recovered her conditioning. I warned her it would be an order of magnitude more difficult than what she has been through already, and that you would have the final say. That mistakes such as the one she made the day she was shot would never be tolerated among our ranks.”
“That didn’t dissuade her?” Clay frowned.
“It rather seemed to harden her resolve,” Xavier shook his head. “I believe she sees this as a way to find redemption for her past mistakes and also to prove to you that she can be a worthwhile asset.”
“What do you think?” Clay inquired, watching his friend closely.
“I feel certain she has the desire and the fortitude,” Xavier looked thoughtful. “My only concern at this point would be if her actual physicality would prevent her from making it. I do think she would be worth the investiture in training if only to see if that is true.”
In other words, Xavier felt like she could make it, but only the actual doing would prove him right or wrong.
“I take it you don’t believe she can make it at this point?” he checked.
“Doubtful,” Xavier’s voice sounded regretful. “With another two weeks, knowing what was at stake, I think she would surprise us, but she doesn’t have another two weeks.”
“That is true, but we could likely stall for that amount of time,” Clay mused. “Heather and
Carrie are waiting on Heath, who should be ready in about two weeks himself, so it’s not like it would be a big deal to wait for her. If Amanda can be ready in the two weeks you suggest, or by the time Heath is ready, then we will allow her to try as well, if she still wants to. Sound fair to you?”
“It does indeed,” Xavier smiled. “Very much so. I thank you, Clayton,” he inclined his head slightly.
“Don’t thank me until you’re done, brother.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Clay had begun to wish he had left the idea of banks and stores and pay a mystery. The last three weeks had consisted of people trying to charge for every little thing they did and complain loudly if they were refused. He had listened and explained patiently for the first week. For the second week he had still explained, but with much less patience.
The third week was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He called another ‘assembly’, and this time didn’t spare anyone’s feelings.
“I felt sure I had made this clear before, but since it appears I was in error, I intend to make sure this time. No one gets paid for their garden hours. Period. Gardens are our own breadbasket. We all get our meals from there and our stores for the winter. We will all participate in the gardening, or we will not eat. If that sounds too harsh for you, feel free to pack your belongings and go find another place that offers as much as we do with so little effort on your part.”
“I don’t intend to argue about this, nor will I explain it again. Everyone does garden duty, and you will not be paid for it. Period. Remember that the farm still provides meat for the table, and everyone eats for free. That’s because we all work to make sure we have something to eat.”
“Housing is still free and will remain so. Yes, it may be cramped at times. We’re trying to make sure that’s not a problem, but until we can, things may be a bit crowded. Deal with it. You aren’t being charged any rent and you won’t be in the future, so there are no real grounds for you to complain about. Again, if you don’t care for that, pack up and mosey on down the road to Utopia, where everything is free, and no one has to work. This isn’t it.”
