"Look Bruce, I really need to talk with you, it's important," Senator Gary Harris said as the Environmental committee meeting broke up just before lunch. "Can you come to my office in, ah, ten minutes?"
Bruce looked at him hard, about to tell him to go to hell.
"It's important," Gary said and then looked around, no one was in hearing distance, "for your future."
Bruce nodded and glared at him, "I'll be there."
"Bruce," Gary said, a smile on his face, "Sit down, you want coffee or something else to drink?"
"No, I'm fine. What do you want?" he asked.
"Hey, c'mon," he said, "we're colleagues. I want some advice, that's all."
Bruce eyed him.
What kind of ruse is this, he wants my advice!
"We talked about my belief in getting people back to the land. You remember that conversation?"
Bruce nodded.
What the hell is he getting at?
"You have lots small farms in Indiana, right?"
"Yeah, we do. There're some factory farms but thousands of small farms."
"I want you to co-sponsor a bill with me that would establish a branch within the Department of Agriculture dedicated to small farms with an emphasis on self-sufficiency. What do you think?"
You're an idiot, that's what I think
. Being civil, he replied, "As I said before, what you're talking about is subsistence farming, something that was common when people didn't have other employment options. Today it's usually the last step before farmers give up and get a non-farming job. I don't think it will go over."
"Oh, I think it will. I think self-sufficiency is attractive to a lot of people."
Bruce shook his head. "I didn't go into detail about the challenges of farming: drought or too much rain; insect infestation; fungus problems; disease; demand for produce; low prices; there's a lot of adversity out there. One bad year can put you under."
"I'm not talking about commercial farming, I'm talking about self-sufficiency."
Bruce shook his head. "Your small farm in Virginia might make it. I don't know about your tenant farmers, and that's what they are; but you can keep it going because you've got money to make it through the bad years. Real small farmers don't. Two bad years, their credit's exhausted; they're selling their land. It's a hell of way to make a living."
Gary was getting exasperated. "You're missing my point. You want to talk about commercial farms, I'm talking about self-sufficiency."
"I know what you're talking about, damnit. Subsistence farming, or, as you refer to it, self-sufficiency farming, is eking out a living from the land, it's far from commercial farming." Bruce replied. "It won't work. People aren't stupid, they're not going to fall for this."
"You're wrong. It's an opportunity for people to get back to their roots, to work the land, to grow their own food, to get closer to nature, their family, their neighbors. It's a great idea, and it will work."
Bruce shook his head. "I'm going to level with you, Gary. I won't co-sponsor your small-farm bill and I won't support you in this. This is crazy, trying to turn the clock back."
Gary shook his head. "Well, I tried to reason with you, hoped that I could bring you on board. But, unfortunately that's not going to happen. I wish that it hadn't come to this, but, what can else can I do?" he said as he walked over to his desk and pulled out a folder.
Bruce watched him as he returned with the folder in his hand; puzzlement was replaced by fear as he realized what might be in that folder.
He opened the folder and handed Bruce a small stack of photographs. He glanced at them realizing that they were taken last night in Britney's apartment. He looked at Gary angrily. "You son-of-a-bitch, where did you get these?"
"Never mind where we got them," he said smugly. "You should be asking what we're going to do with them."
Bruce glared at him, his hands at his side, balled into fists.
I oughta punch this son-of-a-bitch out.
Gary stood there, looking at him benignly. He didn't say anything.
After a few seconds, Bruce regained his senses. "Let me guess, I either vote yes or these get published, right?"
