Reedsy<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\nHer father had always made it seem easy. Cora worked twelve to fourteen hours a day to accomplish what her father had done in eight or nine. Still, she wasn\u2019t going to give up. His dream deserved to live on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cHuman Fuel,\u201d he\u2019d called it; the farm, the brand, and the product itself. She lugged the bushel baskets of coffee cherries to the barn. She ran them through the masher to remove most of the fruit from the bean, then put them in a barrel and covered them with fresh water. That would ferment the slimy remains of the fruit and separate them from the beans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Tomorrow she\u2019d run them through the dryer and bag them up. One more day of processing, then she\u2019d be done with this year\u2019s harvest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The fifty-kilogram bags of processed beans, filled and sewed shut, six to a pallet, stood ready for shipping. With the last of the beans done, she\u2019d have four-hundred and eighteen pallets ready for sale.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cora pulled out her phone and checked the wholesale prices and did some quick calculations as she left the barn. She\u2019d make enough to pay the taxes, renew the farm\u2019s certification, and keep the lights on\u2026just.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The setting sun backlit the rows of coffee plants, showing how shaggy they were becoming. Pruning and weeding were next on her ever-rotating, never-ending list of tasks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She walked back to the house, stopping on the way to pull a few errant dandelions from the flowerbed along the walk. Cora frowned, noting that the house was overdue for paint.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The perennial flowers were just beginning to bloom, and it would be a full cacophony of color soon. Better to have the exterior paint brightened up before then, lest it look even more worn than it was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cora sat at the desk in her father\u2019s study. No<\/em>, she reminded herself, it\u2019s my study now<\/em>. She sent out notifications to the roasters that bought directly from the farm. Human Fuel<\/em> had 125,000 kilos of certified organic coffee beans for sale, at the current wholesale market rate.<\/p>\n\n\n\nThe house was quiet around her. This was always the hardest part of the day. Rather than focus on the silence, she busied herself dusting, polishing the entry hardwood floor, and shining all the chrome in the kitchen, until she was too tired to go any further.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Safely tucked away in her bed, she closed her eyes for another dreamless sleep. She would try, tomorrow, to finish early enough to walk out to the dock and watch the sunset over the lake. A chance to reflect on the life lessons her father taught her, usually right there.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The next day, Cora was feeling proud of herself. She had finished by late afternoon, having loaded the dryer, pruned an acre of the fields, unloaded the dryer, run the beans through the shaker to remove the papery skins, and bagged and stacked the beans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She was about to walk to the lake, when a black SUV pulled up the long drive to the house. Cora resigned herself to not making it to the lake this evening, either, and went to deal with the visitor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The man that stepped out of the SUV was small, his pink head bald on top with a halo of black hair, and a slight paunch tightening the buttons of his off-the-rack suit. He carried a pad and stylus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIs it already time for our organic re-certification?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, I\u2019m from the county records office,\u201d he answered. \u201cIt seems we\u2019ve fallen behind on this property.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI just paid the property taxes last month.\u201d Cora crossed her arms defensively. She wasn\u2019t sure what it was about this man, but he felt dangerous.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo, no. The taxes are all up to date. We just don\u2019t know who<\/em> owns the property.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cHuman Fuel, LLC,\u201d she said. She looked at his pad. \u201cSee, right there? And that\u2019s who pays the taxes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He sighed. \u201cYou see, I need to know who the person or people running Human Fuel are. Our records are out of date.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI handle all the business decisions,\u201d she said, \u201cwhat do you need to know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWho, um\u2026started the business?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy father,\u201d she said, \u201cFrank Eider, like it says on your pad.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd has\u2026anyone replaced mister Eider in his role?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNo. This is his<\/em> dream, and no one else.\u201d She studied his posture. Is he scared of me?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\nHe consulted his pad, flipping through several electronic documents.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m Cora, by the way.\u201d She held out a hand to shake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSt\u2014Steven,\u201d he responded, cautiously accepting her handshake. When she didn\u2019t harm him, he seemed to relax.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWould you like to come in for a cup of coffee?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNot right now,\u201d he said. \u201cYou say you make the business decisions. Who do you ask for advice\u2026whe\u2014if you need it, I mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI ask my father,\u201d she said. \u201cI was about to go visit him when you showed up. Would you like to come along?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He looked surprised. \u201cWell, I\u2026sure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Cora led him down the path between the fields. At the far end of the fields, she noticed that the vetch was already blooming. She gathered a few of the purple flowers before cresting the small hill that hid the lake from view.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFather, I\u2019ve brought Steven to talk to you, but I don\u2019t think he\u2019ll hear anything useful from you.\u201d Cora knelt by the large stone, laser engraved with her father\u2019s name, birth date, and death date. She laid the flowers on the stone and pulled the dandelion that grew on his grave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Steven\u2019s face was unreadable. He read the headstone and made notes on his pad. \u201cI was afraid of this. Is there any other person who has an interest in this farm?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust me,\u201d Cora said. \u201cIt\u2019s the only<\/em> interest I have; preserving my father\u2019s dream.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n\u201cYou\u2019ve kept the farm going for thirty years by yourself,\u201d he said. \u201cThat\u2019s impressive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat was I supposed to do? Just give up and walk away?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou understand, don\u2019t you, that you don\u2019t\u2026.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t what, Steven?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCora, you don\u2019t own the farm. The county will have to put it up for sale.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t do that!\u201d Her fists clenched at her sides. \u201cMy father worked himself to the bone for his dream, and I\u2019m the only<\/em> one that can keep it alive. You can\u2019t take it away from me!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nHe took a half step back from her. \u201cCora, you understand, don\u2019t you, that you can\u2019t legally claim ownership of the farm. Had we known, this would have happened a lot earlier.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy? Why can\u2019t I keep the farm?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFirst,\u201d he said, \u201cbecause you\u2019re\u2026uh\u2026. Second, there was no will, you don\u2019t own this property. I\u2019ll do what I can to let you stay on, though.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAnd the county makes a tidy sum selling it off?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019ll see, it\u2019ll all work out.\u201d He turned off his pad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cGet out of here! Get off my farm<\/em>!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\nAs Steven walked back to his SUV, he pulled out his phone and made a call. \u201cThe Human Fuel property,\u201d he said, \u201cwe need a tech out here\u2026yes, that\u2019s right. Erratic behavior, emotional outbursts, grieving, it thinks the previous owner is its father\u2026no, it looks homemade. Just mark it down as bipedal general purpose farm droid. If the tech can fix it we\u2019ll include it in the auction price, otherwise it\u2019s scrap.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
prompt: Write about a child who carries on their parent\u2019s work or legacy in some form. available at Reedsy Her father had always made it seem easy. Cora worked twelve to fourteen hours a day …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[208],"tags":[214,210,228,209],"class_list":["post-2295","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-trunk-stories","tag-drama","tag-fiction","tag-science-fiction","tag-short-story"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pxT7i-B1","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2295","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2295"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2295\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2296,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2295\/revisions\/2296"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2295"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2295"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.evardsson.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2295"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}