Frontlines

“Make sure they don’t have eyes, please!”

Carmen shut the screen door before yelling “I know, mom!” into the house. She was on her way to the market, which was being held outdoors for the first time in months. Her mom wanted potatoes for dinner, of course. They really don’t taste the same just off of the grocery shelf.

Lately the heat had been too severe to run the market or do anything outside for an extended period of time, but the weather had been kind more recently and things had subsided just enough that they could reopen the outdoor booths. The new installation of an overhead tarp did wonders for providing additional shade.

In Cedar Grove the market was rather small, all things considered, but they had everything you would need. There was a vegetable booth and Pat from Clay Pigeon liked to run a small coffee booth, selling some of his more unique, imported coffee beans. There was always a stand for the local butcher, sourdough breads and other baked goods, honey from the local keeper, and some other homemade crafts and jewelry including beadwork, macrame, and pottery.

Carmen met Macy by the ice cream truck, where she sat with a half-melted cone in her hand.

“What took you so long?” Macy asked.

“Sorry, sorry. My mom had to send me out with a list, so we have to stop at the veggie stand before we leave.”

“Wanna get some ice cream?”

Carmen stared for a moment at the messy cone in Macy’s hand. “I’ll pass,” she said hastily. “Just had lunch. Let’s just go grab some potatoes quickly before we browse around.”

They walked towards the end of the market where Bernard Farms had a small stand set up. The stand today seemed unusually dismal. Under normal circumstances, August would bring a wide supply of root vegetables, tomatoes, and some hardy asparagus, but they were no longer under normal circumstances.

“No shortage of peppers though, that’s good to see!” Carmen said as Warren walked up to greet her.

“Hello Carmen, nice to see you. How’s your mom? Not too much for sale today, I’m afraid. This heat has been pretty rough on the crop. She’s certainly taking quite a beating. Never quite seen nothin’ like it in my fifty years here.”

Warren shook his head as he spoke sombrely. Carmen’s stomach dropped. She knew things were bad, but it was hard to know exactly just how bad things are when you’re not first to witness it. She began to pick through the potatoes, being very careful not to pick up any with too many sprouts or she’ll never stop hearing about it. Her mom was very particular in that way.

“So what are you going to do, Warren? I mean, if things get worse?”

“Well,” he began. “I don’t know. Pray for a miracle, I suppose.”

“Might have to switch to just growing peppers,” Macy said. “Except that I hate peppers. Well, maybe not hate…But strongly dislike.”

“That’s one way to do it,” Warren chuckled. “We just have to find ways to adapt, I suppose. It’s hard to say what will happen in the next few years.”

Just as someone began to walk up to the stand, a cloud floated over the sun providing a feeling of ominous gloom. Carmen grew silent as she watched Warren take a step backwards, his face growing dark. She glanced quickly at Macy who was sifting through the wildflowers, unaware of the sudden change in tempo.

“Well well well. You got the stand open.” The strange man said, his lips curled in a snarl.

“You know I don’t want any trouble. I’ve given you my answer.” Warren’s cadence was short and straight, as if he was spitting his words through clenched teeth.

“Need I remind you that you’re five months behind? We’ve been so patient with you.” The strange man picked up an sad-looking carrot, inspecting it closely in a tormenting way.

“It’s really quite simple, Warren. All you have to do is sign the papers and pack up your wife and your mangy little dog and we’ll take care of the rest. You can retire and live a life of luxury and never have to worry about all of this again.” He snapped the carrot in half. “Or, if you’d like to continue being so stubborn, I’ll just wait for the bank to claim your land and buy it then. I’m really just trying to do what’s best for you, Warren. It’s an opportunity for you to bring growth to this community. Think about all the jobs it will provide. Think about the economy.”

Warren stood silent, keeping his composure. Carmen felt awkward, but thought her presence was beneficial to keeping the situation from escalating further. She could piece the puzzle together easy enough. She knew Warren was struggling – everybody was, really. But she didn’t know he was under so much pressure to sell. Sorrow embellished her.

“I can’t do it,” Warren began. “This land is more than an opportunity for development. I’ve been here taking care of it for more years than I can remember. These past months have only been a small setback in the grand scheme of things. If we all just gave up that easy, nothing would ever persevere. We need to treat the land as if it’s borrowed from our children. The next generation will be the ones to take care of it, and there is nothing you can say to convince me a plan for development is the best thing for them. This way of living is worth preserving. I think it’s best if you leave.”

The man shook his head, laughing grimly. “You go ahead and think that,” he said, glancing over to Carmen. “We can chat again later.”

As he walked away, Carmen paid Warren for her potatoes.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She asked.

“Ain’t got nothing to worry about, Carmen. We’re doing everything we can. We’ve got a secret weapon to try and pick things back up to the way they were.” He said, a light flashing across his eyes. “We’ve got sustainability.”