Therefore, Duke presumes not only that we’ll sell him the land he wants but that we’ll give him a great deal on it. He’s eager to buy about twenty acres in Bourne for some kind of chemical plant they are hoping to have up and running by late next year. I said you were there at the moment with Mother and Dad, and I’d check with you and get back to him. I reiterated your offer of the land below the orchard and told him I considered the rate you quoted him quite generous. He explained though that their operations require a river—apparently for some pretty questionable effluvia so the less we know the better—so he’s interested only in the land by the river. I said that though we do indeed own all the land by the river as well, there’s less of it, and it is quite a bit more expensive, even for almost-family. Between you and me, I would much prefer to talk him into that vacant land instead because then we’ll be able to sell both. We get the money for the orchard land, and then, when his plant opens and brings in lots of new workers, we’ll be able to jack up the price of the river properties. It’s win-win. If you disagree with any of the rates I quoted, let me know soonest. Otherwise, I will proceed by holding firm and awaiting his reply.
Yours,
Elmer
“What is effluvia?” I say.
Mirabel taps at her tablet. “Run off.” Her Voice seems to be giving me a command.
“Run off where?” I ask.
“Not run off,” says Mab. “Runoff. Effluent. Shit that’s leaked by a chemical plant into a river that then runs downstream and poisons the water and the soil and everyone who lives there.”
“So Nathan’s parents knew and Apple’s parents knew and everyone’s parents always knew?”
“Not everyone’s,” says Mab, and she means our parents. Our parents did not know.
That is all anyone says for a while because it is hard to think about how some people so far away so long ago said okay to a thing that would totally change or, to be more accurate, harm my life before my life had even started because some wanted to sell land and some wanted to sell chemicals. And maybe the reason it is hard to think about is it is mean and a sad statement about human nature, or maybe the reason it is hard to think about is because maybe those people poisoned us.
Here is what the rest of the letters say:
Dear Hickory,
Your solution to all this is a stroke of genius. I know it’s tiresome being there, but I wonder if you would have come up with it from Boston. If it took actually walking the land to think of this, it was worth it. That’s easy for me to say from here, but I’m grateful, and you’ll be home soon enough, sooner now that we’re sure to make progress.
Harvey is on the Cape for a month, but another of the partners and two of his associates all assure me that your idea falls under the category of infrastructure and therefore, in this case, is the purview of the local government, not the landowners. So you have to get the mayor and town council on board, but once you do, they, not we, will incur the expense of both construction and maintenance going forward. Harvey’s partner had an engineer who sometimes does work for him take a look. That guy told us that the diversion of the river to the orchard will create a greenbelt where the river is currently and a small lake just upstream. So Harvey’s partner thinks the way to sell the mayor and town council on this is by pointing out there will be a greenbelt, a lake, and a pretty new park. You’d know better than I, but last I was there, Mother was telling me that the mayor’s finally retiring later this year. Perhaps he’ll be eager to leave a legacy in the form of a beautified town and be unconcerned about the price tag as it will soon no longer be his problem.
Will keep you posted.
Elm
Dear Hick,
Thrilled to hear the mayor and town council have agreed to finance construction. Smart of you not to even mention the Templetons or their plans for a chemical plant. Why muddy the waters, so to speak? That battle will belong to whoever wins the race for the next mayor anyway. It’s not this guy’s problem, and it’s not ours either.
I invited Duke Templeton for lunch at the club yesterday. Because the orchard land will now have a river running through it, I significantly raised the asking price. When he balked, I cited increased expenses owing to having to build such substantial infrastructure. Who exactly is paying for what is not a detail he will have or could even reasonably expect to have access to. And regardless, the land is now quite a bit more valuable, so of course the price has gone up. It took some doing, but we settled, at last, on quite favorable terms.
I have to admit to being secretly pleased that the outgoing mayor put a caveat on all this. I like a worthy adversary, negotiators who do something other than roll over and die, and I happen to agree with him that an in-kind donation is appropriate in this case. They should get something out of it. His argument that a growing town ought to be able to grow their minds as well is quaint, so I say we agree to the stipulation that we build the town a real library as a bit of tit for tat. I understand your concern over the cost, but they’re right that lending moldy old books and dated reading material out of their church basement is pitiable. I have a solution which, while maybe not as heaven-sent as yours, will, I think, make you quite happy. What if we converted Mother and Dad’s house? I know Mother likes it there, but how much more small-town living can Dad possibly take? And now that there’s a wedding to plan, Mother will want to be here to help Apple pick china patterns or bridesmaids’ dresses or whatever else needs butting into. The house is enormous so we can bequeath it for use as a library, and the only real expenses will be shelving and some new books. And then you can all leave poor little Bourne for more civilized climes. As I keep saying: win-win.
Yours etc.
Elm
Dear Hickory,
It’s done. The moment Bourne Town Council signed the paperwork and broke ground, our land deal went through with the Templetons for more than we dared hope. What happens next is Duke Templeton’s business to negotiate with Bourne and whoever they elect as mayor, not ours. I will be thrilled to wash my hands of this and have all of you out of there.
I don’t know if she mentioned it to you, but as a parting gift, Mother’s designing a stained-glass mural to replace their living room picture window in the hopes this will make the old place seem less like a cast-off house and more like a library. I see why she likes it there—it’s a pretty little town—but I’ve never had a good feeling about their prospects. We did well to buy up so much land so inexpensively and sell on the upswing. But I fear it will not last. There is something about that place that makes me think there is more standing between them and good fortune than a lake and a park and a library. Perhaps the plant will bring an influx of new jobs, but between you and me, I don’t trust the Templetons and will be glad to have you all living somewhere where your well-being is not dependent on their integrity.
No one on the Templetons’ side has thought to ask for the deed or anything else, and why would they? The sale is contingent only on the river running through the land they’ve bought, and we have assured them it will do so. They don’t care how, and even if they did, they wouldn’t ask in case it’s not been on the level. They certainly don’t want to take responsibility for any more than they have to, so I doubt they’ll think to ask for a very long time. What Bourne does next regarding the Templetons is their own decision to make, and we are lucky that we will all be somewhere else when they do so.