Merriton

“Balls of steel, Bree, balls of steel.” Bree sat in her car. Sasquatch had been meowing ever since she parked on the main road. She looked at the dilapidated shed through the snowflake covered windshield. The wipers cleared the snowflakes and gave her a better view of the shed for a moment.

“Snow!” The sight of it filled her with dread. Isn’t that why she moved to San Francisco in the first place? No. Honestly, she looked at the steering wheel and knew that snow was not the reason she escaped Montana. She could have dealt with a hundred winters if she had felt like Billings could have been a home.

Snow smelled differently here. Everything about this area felt wrong. It took all her courage to pack everything she owned into that car. Now her courage had failed her and she couldn’t bring herself to drive up the gravel path. Her head hit the steering wheel in frustration. “Balls of steel. Come on, Bree, balls of steel.”

She started at a knock on her car window. A crusty cowboy, gray and in need of a shave was at the side of her car. His cowboy hat was covered with snow. She lowered her window a crack and his gruff voice asked, “You alright, Miss?”

She tried to brush him off, “Yeah. I’m just restin’ a bit.” Her response surprised herself. Twelve hours. It only took a twelve hour drive away from San Francisco and she was right back to sounding like a stupid hick. How long had she worked on pronouncing her “G’s” and “T’s” so that people would take her seriously?

“Well, don’t rest here too long. We got a big storm here and it’s supposed to last all night. Snow’ll gather ’round your tail pipe and you’ll die of carbon monoxide poisoning.” The cowboy nodded at her and then something in her car caught his eye. “Can’t help but noticin’ that your GPS is tellin’ ya to turn on my driveway.” He looked at the gravel drive for a moment and then looked at her again. “Ya won’t get stuck. I plow it when it snows like this.” Bree responded, “YOUR driveway?” The cowboy nodded and replied, “Yeah, I share it with the McCains.”

McCain! Random McCain. The name reminded her of everything she had come there for: the McCain Random Number Generator, Zerbitz, and God knows what else he’s working on! All her fear went out the crack in the window with the heat from the car’s vents. “It was the McCains I was lookin’ for, thanks.” She rolled the window down the rest of the way and offered her hand to the cowboy. They shook and she consciously tried to give him a firm handshake.

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Better not leave Sasquatch out in the car. He’ll freeze in this weather. She picked up the cat carrier and grunted at the weight of it. She sloshed through the mud and climbed the stairs of the porch. “McCain,” she repeated the name to herself and knocked on the door.

The Random McCain that opened the door looked so different from the Random McCain that ran Zerbitz. “Bree… Come in. Wow, look at that snow!” He opened the door wider and Bree stepped into the farmhouse. Random was unshaven, his hair was getting a little shaggy and he had gained about ten pounds. Bree was surprised and didn’t know how to answer. Random looked at the cat carrier in her hand and then looked at her.

“You leave Andrea in the car, but you bring in your cat?” Andrea? Oh God, Andrea. How many times had she shown up jealous and angry at Zerbitz while Bree was working late? Too many to count. “I finally broke up with Andrea.” Random nodded. “It’s about time.” Bree stood in the foyer uncomfortably and Random took the cat carrier out of her hand and placed it on the floor near the stairs. Sasquatch howled to be released while Random held out his hand for Bree’s coat. It was the coat she wore when she went home to Montana. “Yeah, I broke up with her right after you left Zerbitz. I guess you didn’t hear.” Random hung up the coat on the coat rack. “I’m sure she showed up at the Zerbitz office to announce it.” He held out his hand and lead her to the parlor.

The parlor was nearly empty of furniture, but it was happily kept warm by the multiple computers. “When did you become a Mac Boy?” She looked at the huge 24-inch iMac on his desk next to the monitor for a PC. Random chuckled. “That’s a funny story. I’ll have to tell you sometime.” She sat on the futon. She tried to remember the words she had practiced on the twelve hour drive up to Merriton. “I want in.” Random smiled. “You don’t want in. Are you hungry? It’s a long drive from San Francisco.” Bree shook her head. “No, I ate at the coffee shop. Good food. I want in.”

Random sat at the computer desk, partially obscured by the large monitors. “You quit at Zerbitz?” Bree nodded, “I’m all on board. I know you’re doing something up here. I want in on it.” Random shook his head, “Can you get your job back?” Bree faltered. “Um… yeah, I guess.” The job wasn’t an issue. Bree didn’t have a place to live. She had crashed on a friend’s couch when she broke up with Andrea, but finding an apartment had been difficult. She had been homeless for months. Balls of steel.

“I don’t want to work for them. I want to work for you.” Random shook his head. “Believe me, you don’t want to work for me.” Bree shook her head. Balls of steel. “Too bad. I’m here. Put me to work.” Random laughed quietly and ran his hand from his forehead to his chin in one long movement. He surprised Bree with his loud voice, “Sierra!” Bree heard movement above them and feet quietly moving down the stairs. The tall woman who entered the room shocked Bree with her beauty. She had heard that Random’s wife was beautiful, but she never thought that she was such a natural beauty. No makeup, no hair products, just gorgeous.

Sierra looked at the two of them and rolled her eyes. “How many non-disclosure agreements do you want me to write up? Is it really necessary? Who cares if she goes back and tells the world what we’re doing? I’m not writing up another one.” She turned around and headed back upstairs.

Random turned to Bree. “You hear that? Sierra trusts you and so do I. I don’t want to hear word of this from Valleywag, understand?” All the loyalty and fierce devotion flooded Bree all over again. Despite the strangely smelling snow, it suddenly felt like she was back in San Francisco, working for an exciting startup instead of a Internet monolith. “I’m shut up tight.” Random walked back to the coat rack. “I can’t pay you anything right now and I won’t be paying you much when spring starts.”

Bree followed him to the coat rack. “I understand.” Random put on his coat. “During down time, I expect you to be working on your own projects. I want something completed by the time we get busy in the spring.” Bree put on her own coat and answered unflinchingly, “Understood.” Random smiled while he put on his gloves and hat. “Whatever you create here is YOURS. You own it. You market it. I won’t try to take it away from you.” Bree paused. “I can write an application and it will be mine?” Random nodded, but Bree didn’t believe him. “Even if I sell it to Zerbitz?” Random laughed. “Yes, even if you sell it to Zerbitz.” Bree laughed, “I am SO in!”

Random shook his head. “Even so, I don’t think you’re going to want to stay here.” Bree laughed, “Why not?” Random smiled, “Because I’m running a corn farm and I need farm hands.”

Sasquatch howled. Corn farm? She heard Sierra moving about above their heads. Corn farm? Oh God, Valleywag would DIE if they knew the truth! The need for a non-disclosure agreement suddenly became apparent to Bree. “Corn farm?” Random laughed. “Yeah, I bought 7,000 acres of land to grow corn. That’s what you do with land in Merriton. No huge computer banks. No massive data storage issues. Corn.” Bree folded her arms. “For HFCS, I suppose.” All the anger at her father in Montana was bubbling to the surface and the fierce devotion was slipping away.

Random answered, “No, this farm used to sell to a company that used the corn to create high fructose corn syrup, but we are currently negotiating with some ethanol distilleries for next year’s crop.” Bree unfolded her arms. She didn’t know what to say. For the last three years, she had tried to convince her father to stop selling his corn to the HFCS manufacturers because that stuff was killing people. She had brought him literature about selling his corn to ethanol distilleries, but he didn’t see the need for it. The HFCS manufacturers made it so easy for him to just sell his crop.

“You’re taking a corn farm that used to sell its corn to HFCS manufacturers and now selling to ethanol distilleries?” She still couldn’t believe it. Random replied, “Well, we haven’t grown any corn yet this season, but when we do, yes.” Bree giggled to herself. Random was doing what she had tried to convince her family to do for years. Corn! Jesus, growing corn was like going home! Random continued, “AND, we are using no-till methods to earn carbon credits.”

Bree grabbed onto the coat rack for support. The words flowed out of her, “I tried to convince my daddy to do just that last year. There’s all these government subsidies out there to help ‘im buy the equipment and he wouldn’t do it.” Random looked surprised for the first time since she knocked on his door. His voice faltered a bit, “Well… we won’t be getting any subsidies because I was able to buy the equipment on my own, but yeah… You’re family runs a farm?” Bree nodded, still leaning on the coat rack. “Yeah, a corn farm in Montana.”

“Let’s go meet the Thunder Brothers.”