I had planned on only two training classes in a week, but throwing in six extra was going to play havoc with scheduling. I had planned on having enough time to help with setting up the next four colleges, but that was out now.

That task was now up to Cindy, Mark, Jason and Roseanne with help from Marcie, Vicky and Jenny. The work from my part of the business was getting dumped on the other members again and I felt bad about it. The hired help were getting paid to do it but for Marcy, Vicky, Jenny and Ching Lee, each already had their own part of the business assigned to them to run.

Ching Lee and I were in the hot tub discussing tonight’s events before heading over to the house. The others had left earlier. We had a good laugh about my rant at Rodney in Arabic. She still wanted to know what I had said to the first guy on the mat. I went through the translation one word at a time for her. “No wonder you scared the pants off him,” she replied.

Vicky was still awake as I slid into bed next to her. We both slept soundly until the clock started Wednesday and the routine started all over again.

The day was quiet at KCC and I was glad of it. I left early to get a head start on the class of geeks tonight. I had just settled into my chair when Kristina ran into my office.

“There are two old men downstairs that want to see you and Lorrie. They asked for the big boss and boss over the airplanes. They look like the god father and his lawyer. I never saw a briefcase so big or so old. You don’t think he has a machine gun in it, do you?” she asked.

“You have to stop watching those old gangster movies Kristina, you’re going to have nightmares,” I said. “Al Capone, Bugsy and the gang along with Jimmy Hoffa are all dead. The mafia was not big in this area,” I added.

“Go bring them up, use the elevator if they are that old. You can stay in here with us if you want to see an old fashion gangster shoot out, I have my piece in the drawer,” I said laughingly as I called Lorrie, Marcy and Jenny to my office.

Kristina held the door for the two gentlemen. She was right about old – they both had to be in their eighties. She was also right about the briefcase; I had only seen one like that and it was in the silent movies.

Kristina first introduced Lorrie, Jenny, Marcy and then me as we shook their hands. Then she said. “I’m sorry, I did not catch your names,” as she looked at the two men.

“That’s because we did not give them to you, young lady,” he said.

“This is Roger Dalton, my attorney and I am Craig C. Morton. All my old friends who have since died they used to joke that the C. was for crash. They called me Crash most of the time.” he said.

“What can I do for you Crash?” I asked. I knew that name sounded familiar but I could not place why or where.

“I have been watching you go round with the county, looks like it’s a Mexican standoff for a while. I had a round 50 years ago when they started this planning and zoning thing. They thought they were all big shots from the city, going to ram it down our throats,” he said.

“They tried to put me out of business but old Roger here won the case and old Judge Roscoe did not like them either, gave me all kinds of permanent easements and grandfather clauses on my farm forever, with a catch or two,” he said.

“I own a farm on the 301 about 3 miles from where the Justice boy tried to kill you – closer on the Qtown side – it’s a mile and a half square, almost 1300 acres,” he took a big breath to continue.

“I was a pilot in the big war. I came home just in time to bury Dad; Mom had passed a few years before. I inherited the farm but loved flying. I started a crop dusting business. I had the old Damble boy from Ctown put me down a strip of blacktop for a runway – one of the first around. He was a B17 pilot and started a construction business; that was his first attempt at putting down blacktop.”

“A few years later they put in the zoning mess and tried to close down my crop dusting. Said it was not farming, that the farm was zoned agriculture only and they were not going to change it. That’s when Roger and Bill Roscoe put them in their place.”

“The catch is the crop dusting has to be carried on for all the easements and clauses to remain in effect. One of the clauses says that the owner can do anything necessary to carry on the crop dusting and spraying and the county has to be hands off,” Crash said.

Roger interrupted with, “The words are: All aviation activities are exempt from all county rules and regulation and permitting process on the property.”

“My wife Elizabeth died 20 years ago, and my son who was taking over, died 7 years ago in a car accident. I have been hiring a young pilot to do the dusting. The dang fool knocked up a 15 year old and I think they took off to Arizona last week.”

“My brother Sam is all the kin I have left. His two boys have been tilling the farm. They have been stealing me blind. They think I cannot count how many truckloads of grain leave the field. I am supposed to get half; I am not even getting a quarter.

They are so conniving and greedy, they cannot wait for me to die – they even tried to have me committed last fall to get the farm. They keep throwing it in my face every time I see them. Roger put an end to that for now. The wheat harvest was their last and they finished that yesterday.”

“There are some things I want and I think you and I can help each other out. I can help you beat the county and you can help me keep my brother’s asshole kids or the state from getting the farm and keep my love of flying going on the property. So here they are.”

(1) “I want 1.3 million, that’s a thousand dollars an acre. The going rate for farm land is 8 thousand an acre. I don’t need the money – I can’t take it with me and I want this deal to work. Any bank will loan you the money without question.”

(2) “My old house needs a little fixing here and there. Nothing fancy, I just haven’t been able to do it myself. You have to fix it up.”

(3) “You have someone come in, clean the house and do the dishes and clothes once a week until I die. That little young thing that kept coming in the lobby wearing nothing would do just fine. I could daydream about my younger days just watching her work.”

“I see you met Wendy. She is going to start college soon so she won’t be available, but I think we can find someone in a little French maid outfit to do the job,” I replied

“French maid, that will work,” he said.

(4) “I want a full deal health plan. Not Obama care, Medicare, the real deal and when I get too old to get around you supply a full time nurse and or a house keeper. You don’t put me on any life support when Peter calls – just let me go join Elizabeth.”

(5) “You make it a full fledged private airport, fix the runway and build a terminal building. I have the first plane I ever owned in a shed; it is the first bi-plane duster there was on the shore. Make the terminal building big enough to put the antique plane in it as a display.”

(6) “You name it Morton Airfield and the terminal, Elizabeth Morton terminal,” he said. “Remember, you have to have someone that can do crop dusting and the second part of the season starts at the end of July. I have one of the new style turbo-prop dusters that the kid used.”

(7) “I want to be buried by Elizabeth – her resting place is between the house and the hanger, plain old pine box with a simple cedar cross.”

(8) “You hire Roger as a consultant or something and give him medical as well. He knows all the little things about the county dealings,” he said.

“It sounds like you have thought this deal pretty well through. It will take a few days to work through all the details,” I replied.

Roger opened the antique briefcase and placed several folders on the table, “Here is a copy of the farm deed and a copy of all the planning and county court orders. Here is the agreement as he described. You better sign the letter of intent and give him a token deposit. He is not a spring chicken any more,” Roger said.

“What time after lunch tomorrow can we look over the place?” I asked. Then I added, “Would 100 thousand be enough for a deposit?”

“Noon would be fine. That would be great. Turn on Morton Farm lane and follow it back. We will be there waiting.”

Marcy wrote out the check.

Edit by alfmeister