“My friend Diane was over the other day,” Mama continues. “She absolutely loves the last one you did of the tractor in the field.”
I nod slightly and drop my gaze to my plate as I pick up my fork and push the asparagus back into place. “I need more pencils.”
“Well, we can get more,” Papa says. “That’s no problem.”
I look up at him, and he gives me a smile as he takes a bite of his supper.
“I’m heading into Charlottetown this week to pick up the new belt loader for the grading line,” Dad says, pulling my attention to him. “Come with me, and you can go to the art store and get everything you need.”
I sit up a bit straighter at that idea. I hate going into Charlottetown, and I can’t fucking stand trying to figure out how to buy shit online. I don’t like leaving our small town, and I don’t even like leaving the farm. Which is why I let my pencils weardown to nubs, which I can barely draw with, and more than half of my coloured pencils are used up or lost. But I do want to replace them, and if Dad is going anyway…
“What about work?” I ask.
Dad huffs and takes a drink of his beer. “We own the business, Silas. You can take a day off.”
I hesitate as guilt presses in, but the excitement of getting new pencils and paper wins. Just last night, I was sitting on the deck of my cabin, watching the deer in the trees and wishing I could draw them.
“Ok,” I nod, and a small smile breaks free.
Mama beams. “I’ll pick out another frame.”
As they settle into conversation about which of my drawings has been their favourite, I sit back and look around the table at the people who always show up, no matter what. My family, who chose me and continues to choose me… even when I’m difficult.
And the last of my anger slips away, leaving nothing but safety and calm in its place.
FOURTEEN
The ball bouncesoff the wall as I throw it, and Winston leaps to catch it midair with a tail wag that almost sends a lamp crashing to the floor.
“My god,” I mutter, lurching forward just in time to grab it, then push it farther back on the side table out of the danger zone.
Winston just wags his tail even harder as he plops the ball on my lap, then sits in front of me with his eyes locked on it like it might grow legs and run away.
I toss it again, then lean back against the couch as he makes a dramatic effort to run across the slippery floor to grab it. Then he takes it to his bed in the corner of the living room and starts aggressively chewing it.
“Well, what’s the point of that?” I ask, watching as he bites it so hard it cracks, and he looks extremely proud of himself.
I sigh and lean my head back, letting my eyes drift out the window to the white clouds slowly moving across the blue sky over the city skyline.
It’s almost noon on a Wednesday. And I’m home, in my sweatpants, talking to my dog.
But… it beats working for a soulless conglomerate that sees nothing but dollar signs where I see people trying to do right bytheir land, their families, and the communities their farms hold together.
The second they told me my role would be absorbed intoRegional Yield Strategy, and I’d be expected to apply their blanket efficiency targets across every operation, without accounting for real-world farm or transport-specific conditions, I quit. Right there, on the spot.
And it felt pretty fucking good to tell them where to shove it.
In not so many words…
But now, I live in one of the most expensive cities in the country… without a job, a plan, or even a decent fallback.
It was hard enough to find a company like VerTerra in the first place. One that actuallyvalued sustainability, gave a fuck about data integrity, and let me build something from the ground up. I started with them right out of school, and I spent years shaping my role into what it was. I turned it into a high-level multi-farm support role, and I was making a difference with tools real people could actually use.
But now VerTerra belongs to SynGrow Global, and so does half the ag-tech industry in Canada. And they’ll probably own the other half soon.
Winston shakes his head side to side as rubber pieces go flying, and I turn to look at the mess he’s created.
“Why do we even get them if you just destroy them all after two throws?”
