Black Harvest

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

"Be a good crop, this year. Better than last," Bob said.

Winter wheat laid a fresh green carpet across the Nebraska prairie. Billy Elroy and his brother Bob stood on the edge of the fields. Bob had 2000 acres in wheat and corn, handed down by hard work through five generations. Billy had come to help with the spring corn planting. Disking, fertilizing, getting the machinery ready.

Billy was in awe of Bob's success. His brother had the gift for growing things. Billy couldn't grow weeds if he tried. He had tried. Everything he planted behind his house died. Finally he'd given it up.

"You going for the Ethanol thing with the corn?"

"Nah. Too damn much paperwork. My corn's for people. I got no interest in feeding cars." Bob glanced at the sun. "Getting close to dinner. Mae's got a big salad for you. She knows you like that rabbit food."

Billy grinned. "Hey, you throw enough stuff in it, it's good. I even brought the pepper." He pulled a glass jar from his pocket.

"Almost forgot about it. Here 'ya go." He tossed it over to his brother. Bob grabbed and missed. The bottle shattered on a rock. A fine cloud lifted into the air and drifted toward the field.

"Damn it, Billy." He reached down and picked up the pieces of broken glass. "You're lucky we got plenty. Come on, Mae's waiting."

The two brothers headed toward the house.

A gentle breeze blew the contents of the broken jar into the corner of the wheat field.