Uncle Ben arrived a week later to stay with us at the house. I was surprised that he didn’t have a woman with him. He did have a case of beer, though. Some things never changed.

  “Hey little dude,” he said to me. “Milt said you needed help with the tractor?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know where to begin and Dad said you were the guy to ask.”

  “Right on.”

  I handed him the contract from Al. It was like the one Al had signed, while also including the fact that I was going to pay him for his time. I knew I would end up divulging my secrets if we spent time together. There were just too many strange things to explain away. That I owned a company with millions of dollars was the most immediate of them.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “I’m paying you, so the lawyer drew something up to make it legitimate.”

  “When did you learn how to talk like that?”

  I said nothing, but instead gave him a steady gaze.

  “Well, whatever.”

  Uncle Ben read it over and ended up signing. He gave it back to me—even though that was unnecessary. The system contract had activated the instant he signed, taking with it some of my experience. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

  “So, where’s this tractor?” he asked.

  “Down the road. You’ll forgive me if I ask you to drive there. I’m afraid I’m missing the requisite number of years to do it myself.”

  “Really?” he gave me a look, before shaking his head. “That’s how you phrase it?”

  “Wanted to mess with you,” I smiled. “Being the oldest person in this house has its perks.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I ignored his protests. We had work to do, so I walked out the front door.

  “Come on,” I said with a laugh.

  Uncle Ben shook his head, but followed, nonetheless. We got in his car and drove to the equipment shed. I unlocked it and let him in. It was frosty inside, so I put the heat on and closed the door behind us.

  “Well,” he said with a clap of his hands. “You’ve got a lot of stuff here. While this place warms up some, why don’t you tell me more about them?”

  I spent an hour going over everything. I started with the tractor and its attachments before moving on to Dad’s tractor and the trailers. There were other things there that I hadn’t used—threshing and processing equipment, mostly.

  “First thing we’ve got to do is clean everything,” he told me. “With all this mud around, there’s no way to properly assess anything. Where’s the soap and the hose?”

  “The hose is in the corner,” I said, pointing to it. “But I don’t have any soap.”

  “That’s a shame. You should get some. Rinsing everything off will be the bare minimum. Dirt and grime can not only hide problems but also cause them. You know how sand on a beach gets everywhere? Dirt’s the same way, and mechanical things don’t do well when dirt gets added in places it shouldn’t be.”

  Uncle Ben and I scrubbed all the machines. While they weren’t caked with mud, they certainly hadn’t been clean. With several hours of work, we got them sparkling. At least, they felt sparkling in my mind.

  “Good,” he said. “That’s much better. Now, let’s see what we can do with these tractors.”

  He opened up my tractor.

  “Did you change the oil at all this year?”

  I shook my head.

  “Ok. We’ll start there. Here’s how you check the oil…”

  Uncle Ben explained how the dip stick worked. He showed me how the oil looked—dirty to my eyes—and compared it to fresh oil. He went on and on about the oil. I understood what he was trying to convey, even if he struggled to say it. It wasn’t just the maintenance—which was important—but going over the vehicles regularly would help to catch things before they became actual issues.

  “Before we do the oil change, you got the manual anywhere?”

  I looked around for it and gave it to him.

  “Alright. Let me make sure we have everything first.”

  I sat and looked around. I even paced back and forth. Eventually, he was done.

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  “I see you have the oil. What about the filter and the tools?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t think I had them, even though I’d gotten most things.

  “We’ll have to order them, then. Should also pick up a code scanner to check any codes that might pop up on the tractor’s computer.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “There might be errors that won’t show up with an indicator,” he clarified. “Always pays to check, just in case. It’s new, so everything’ll be fine. Probably.”

  Uncle Ben and I followed the same procedure with the other tractor and the other equipment. He said it was best to get a full list of what we needed before making any orders. It was quite the list! Although I had picked up the basics—like tools, oil, and fuel—I had missed all the specialized parts I actually would need. All together, it was thousands of dollars. Expensive to most people—but not to me.

  The parts arrived a week later. He started with the code reader for my tractor and Dad’s. Thankfully, there were no codes. What was important, though, was that he showed me how they worked and what to look out for.

  “If the code you find doesn’t have a good explanation on the reader, you can look it up. There’s a website for these sorts of things—well, a few, actually. I’ll send you the one I trust the most, so you have it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Then he moved on to showing me how to change the oil. The tractor was tall enough that we didn’t need to use any jacks on it. He stressed the importance of blocks to prevent the tractor from rolling. Just in case. The procedure began with him directing me on how to drain the old oil out of the tractor. This included pulling the old oil filter as well.

  “Dip your finger in the oil you drained and rub it on the gasket of the new oil filter. It’ll help get a good seal without over-tightening it.”

  I did as he said before screwing the new filter into its location.

  “Alright, let’s fill ‘er up,” he said. “The manual says she’ll take eight quarts—that’s two gallons, or four of these bottles.”

  He held up a half-gallon bottle of oil. I took it from him. He showed me where to dump the oil with the help of a funnel. It was fun—in a messy sort of way. When the oil was in, I twisted the cap on until it clicked. He had me check the level with the dipstick before he was satisfied.

  “Good job, kid,” he said. “You’re way ahead of where I was at your age.”

  I bit my tongue. While I was sure the truth would come out eventually, I was old enough—and wise enough; I hoped—to avoid unnecessary confusion by cracking a joke about my actual age.

  Over the next few days, Uncle Ben and I went over each machine and performed whatever maintenance it required. Thankfully, they were all new and there wasn’t much they needed. He helped me clean up properly and store the parts for when I would need them.

  “With the money you have, it’s better to have the spares on hand than to wait a week when it matters most.”

  That was a good philosophy to follow. The experience I gained by farming far outweighed the money I made. I didn’t need the money—I needed the experience to continue building the system. That was why I had made a point of gathering a pile of money, so I wouldn’t need to worry or even really think about it. I could just do whatever I needed to do.

  That night, Uncle Ben had the last dinner with Dad and me. Now that I was—if not confident, then—prepared to handle any maintenance issues. I knew where to look up the codes and I knew where to order the parts. The internet held the instructions on how to actually replace the parts, so I was as ready as I could be.

  “I think Eddy, here, learned a lot,” Uncle Ben said.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Anytime,” he said. “I mean, with what you’re paying me, I’ll be set for a while!”

  I smiled. I would rather overpay a little to get endless loyalty from someone. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t use other methods—like system contracts—but those felt scummy. I knew I’d have to use them to protect myself. Money just smoothed over any feathers I ruffled along the way.

  The next morning, I said goodbye to my uncle. It had been nice to be around another person who wasn’t Dad. Still, it was nice to go back to the quiet I had grown used to. The only problem I faced now was what to do with myself for three months before the growing season began. There were always quests to do, but that was just the base level. Maybe I could work on woodworking or metalworking as I’d planned on.

  It turned out the town I was in—and the two others nearby—did not have places to learn those crafts. I’d need to learn on my own or wait for the future where I’d have the time to learn. It just wouldn’t be now.

  A month after Uncle Ben left, I saw a moving truck across the road. The old neighbor—an old lady—had kept to herself until she passed away in the fall. Her children or grandchildren sold the house and a new family was moving in. That house was the closest to mine. There were others, but they were far enough away that I didn’t bother getting to know the people who lived there.

  These new folks presented an opportunity to diversify my social circle some. I was used to my family. I was also feeling disconnected, too. Having someone new to talk to might help. Or so I hoped. I baked cookies and wandered over the day after they moved in—I didn’t want to get in the way while they were busy.

  Their house was a two-story farmhouse with a wide porch that wrapped around it. The lawn and flower gardens that appeared too beautiful in the sprint lay buried by the snow. I climbed two stairs to get onto the porch and ring the doorbell.

  A middle-aged woman came to the door, looking frazzled. Maybe the day after moving in was too soon?

  “Hello,” I said. “I’m your neighbor from across the street. Name’s Eddy. Thought you guys might enjoy some cookies.”

  I offered the place of chocolate chip cookies.

  “Why thank you,” she beamed.

  The stress visibly melted away from her face.

  “My name’s Mable,” she said before turning around and calling into the house “Hey George! Henry! Mila!”

  I heard stomping coming from the stairs and a couple of ‘what’s from what sounded like children.

  “Come here!” she shouted. “Sorry about that. They aren’t the best listeners.”

  I shrugged and smiled.

  A minute later, a man about the same age as Mable appeared. Seconds behind him were two children around ten years old. They hid behind who I assumed was their father.

  “This is my husband, George. The two you can barely see behind him are our kids. They’re twins. The boy’s Henry and the girl’s Mila.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Eddy. I live across the street. I’d wave but, well, cookies.”

  I laughed and offered them the plate.

  George took one. That got a look from Mable. Two small arms snaked their way around George and snagged a cookie each. Mable cleared her throat.

  “Thanks,” came the response from the kids—their mouths already full of cookie.

  “And George, take the plate please, not just a cookie.”

  “Sorry, dear,” he said, giving her a kiss. “Nice to meet you, Eddy, and thanks for the cookies.”

  “Good to meet you, too.”

  I waved as I left.