Today's Day 863: 5 Minute Freewrite: Sunday - Prompt: fraud provided by @mariannewest. This one took me a bit to figure out the direction of. Fraud can take so many various forms and has a ton of synonyms but I went with something that is close to my heart and lifestyle.
Les opened the door to the truck and stepped out into the hot summer sun. The clouds had not been around for a couple of months and the ground was parched and dry. He caught sight of the vehicles driving down the dirt road towards him, dust trails billowing behind them. The lead truck towing a trailer and a smaller car following. They pulled up behind Les’s truck and trailer and parked. Out of the truck ambled the now not so imposing frame of Ben, one of the original farmers in the valley.
“Hey Les, what’s good?” Ben said as he made his way towards Les.
“Heat and the norm. Just hoping to get this hay back since the herd is pretty hungry.” Ben said as he worked to unlatch the trailer gate.
“Well this is some top notch alfalfa that I got in a couple weeks ago. The herd will love it.”
~End 5 Minutes~
Ben walked to the back of his trailer and unlatched the gate, swinging the door open to reveal a trailer loaded with small bales, otherwise known as “idiot cubes”.
“Only idiot cubes huh?” Les muttered to himself, not happy with his only option.
“It’s all that is available anywhere in the region. I had to bring this in from the mid-west which is why it isn’t cheap.”
“You told me 6 dollars per bale which isn’t that expensive.” Les returned.
“6 dollars? No no no. I said sixTEEN dollars per bale!” Ben said feigning surprise.
“16 dollars per bale is robbery. There isn’t a bale of alfalfa this size ever been worth that much!” Les replied incredulously.
“Well, that’s all we got.” Ben told him flatly.
Les turned from the trailer and walked back to his truck. He opened the door and leaning on the seat he pulled his wallet out and counted his cash.
“What a crock of shit. Those 80 bales should cost only 480 dollars, not 1280.” Les’s mind was clawing through the numbers trying to decide how to proceed.
Ben walked up behind Les and said, “what’s the decision?”
“I got 500 dollars. What kind of deal can you do me? 16 a bale is robbery. You know this Ben.” Les said straight faced.
Ben stood thinking for a moment before returning, “Best I can do is 12 per bale but that is my cost.”
“Shit. Whatever. Let’s just get this done. I’ll take the 40 bales then. I have to get the hay back to the herd.”
Ben waved to his helpers in the car and they set about turning Ben’s truck and trailer around and backing it up to Les’s trailer. The 2 early 20s ranch hands made quick work of the bales and within 10 minutes had the 40 bales piled in Les’s trailer.
“Well, here’s the cash Ben. Thanks I guess.” Les said as he handed over a wad of 20 dollar bills.
“Thanks Les, nice doin business with ya.” Ben said as he took the cash and walked back to his truck. They trucks and trailers started up and both drove down the dirt road in opposite directions, the dust clouds billowing into the air.
After the 20 minute drive back to the ranch, Les backed his trailer up to the hay barn to unload. With the boys out in the paddocks working on the fencing Les was left to unload the bales himself. He pulled the tractor up close to the trailer and set the forks on the ramp. Les began lifting the bales and piling them on the tractor forks. He lifted the first bale and his mind reeled.
“What the hell!?” Les screamed in his mind. “This bale is only 30 pounds max!”
He dropped the first bale onto the forks and continued to move bales. Each one weighing the same as the first. After piling stack of 8 bales Les moved the tractor back and set the forks on the ground.
“This is some bullshit. I’m cutting one of these open.” Les thought as he stepped off the tractor.
Pulling a knife from his pocket Les dropped one of the bales to the ground from the pile and cut the strings holding it together. The bale popped open and the flakes fell apart exposing the insides.
“Motherfucker!” Les screamed out loud. “That piece of shit sold me STRAW!”
The bale lay on the ground in flakes exposing the bright golden color of pure straw, not the expected dark green color of good alfalfa. Les screamed at the bales in frustration before walking back towards the house, the hot summer sun beating down on his already fuming head.
Fleming Family Farm
FLEMING FAMILY FARM, LLC
Sustainable & Organic Methods | Heirloom Produce
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