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The Rise of Walsanto (Self-Inflicted Series Book 1) Page 7


  “Actually, it is. I sent it to you by email.”

  Gerald would have Charlotte pull it up and print it out when he got back to the office, but he was curious to know a few things up front. “Give me a quick rundown first.”

  “Well, we ran as many tests as we could come up with and we didn’t find anything bad about it. Other than the strange skin color, the meat was perfectly fine. That puzzled us, of course. It’s kind of rare to have discoloration without there being some kind of problem. Other than being rather unappetizing to look at, we found nothing harmful.”

  “So, did you sit down and have a chicken dinner?” He wanted a real test. If the researchers wouldn’t eat it, then he wasn’t really sure that he should trust their research.

  “Nah, Mr. Davies,” the young scientist laughed. “We thought about it, but we decided to send it on over to the USDA lab and let them get a look at it too, since we didn't’ find anything. You know, just to be safe.”

  “What did they find?”

  “That’s just the thing. They sent back a more detailed report that said that the meat was actually of a higher quality than typical poultry. They are releasing an official report later, but the preliminary report I got from Dr. Mann was that it was higher in protein and vitamins than chickens that hadn’t been fed with the new corn.”

  “Really?” Gerald couldn’t hide the surprise in his voice. He was always skeptical about the value of one feed over another. In his experience, corn was corn and chicken was chicken. It didn’t exactly fit right with his understanding of things to hear a claim like the USDA was making. “Alright. Well, that will put some people’s minds at ease then. I appreciate your help. I’ll read the report when I get back to the office and pass along the information.”

  “I’ll send the USDA’s report, too. That way you’ll have it all.”

  “Alright, thanks Tom.”

  “No problem, Mr. Davies.”

  After Gerald disconnected the call, he pulled over to the side of the road and began flipping through the phone numbers that he had stored in the directory. He'd learned how to work his phone out of necessity, but he still wasn’t all that interested in plunging much deeper into all this newer technology. When he found Charlie McAndrew’s number, he pressed the button and waited.

  “Dublin Downs Farms, this is Gloria,” the sweet voice of the receptionist had a musical tone to it.

  “Hello, Gloria. This is Gerald Davies from the extension office. Can I speak to Charlie?”

  “Sure, Mr. Davies, just a moment.”

  “Mr. Davies, I hope you have good news for me.” The voice of Charlie McAndrews came onto the line after a brief pause.

  “Good afternoon, Charlie. As a matter of fact, I do have good news.”

  “Alright. Talk to me.”

  Gerald explained what he had learned from Clemson and from the USDA. He could hear Charlie scratching away, taking notes as he talked.

  “So the gist of it is that the meat is of a higher quality, higher protein and richer in vitamins, right?”

  “More or less. They are emailing the results to me. I can have Charlotte send them over to you when she comes in at 1:00.”

  “That would be great, Mr. Davies.” His voice revealed a big smile. “This is some very good news. That color bothers me a little still, but this certainly goes a long way toward setting my mind at ease. I think I’ll offer a little more skinless chicken for now. Thanks for your help.”

  “That’s why I’m here, Charlie,” Gerald replied. Charlie’s excitement was beginning to affect him a little bit in spite of his own skepticism. When the call disconnected, he looked to see if he had Harvey Winters’ number. After scrolling all of the way through the names and numbers, he realized that he didn’t. He’d just go to lunch first and then go out to Harvey’s place.

  Ray’s Diner was packed with the regular lunch crew and he had to make his rounds to nearly every table before he was able to sit down. Luckily, the waitresses knew what Gerald wanted and they put in his order the moment they saw him come in. As he was moving to his seat, Harvey Winters called out to him.

  “Come on over here, Gerald.”

  Evidently Harvey had already gotten over his morning depression. He knew Harvey was living on a tight budget and wondered how on earth he was able to eat out if things were so bad. He went over to his table anyway, extending his hand to grasp the meaty one of Harvey Winters.

  “I was planning on coming by this afternoon,” Gerald began. “I got a report back from the state.”

  Harvey’s face turned serious for a moment. “Is it good news or bad?”

  “It’s good news.”

  “Well, then, I’m buying your lunch.”

  He’d barely sat down and started giving the good news to Harvey when his plate arrived along with Harvey’s. He watched as Harvey’s face brightened while he told him about the reports and they gobbled down their lunch.

  “Higher in protein and richer in vitamins?” Harvey repeated. “Hell, that’s better than just telling me that it’s okay to eat, I guess I can charge a little bit more too, then.”

  “That part is up to you.” Gerald chuckled.

  When lunch was finished and Harvey paid out, Gerald made the rounds of those who had come into the diner while he was eating and greeted everyone before going back through the door and strolling to his pickup. He’d spend the afternoon revisiting or calling the people he’d talked to earlier that morning. It was nice to be able to pass along good news for a change.

  When he started up his truck, the radio was already finishing up an advertisement.

  “Dublin Downs Farms Chicken: higher in protein and richer in vitamins. Get yours today!”

  “Damn! Charlie didn’t waste any time getting that out there,” he said aloud to the radio dial, shaking his head and putting the truck into gear with a grin on his face.

  Chapter 11

  South Carolina

  Late Fall 2020

  Douchet Hatchery

  “We’re three days past time for hatching,” Stacey said, stomping the mud from her boots as she entered the porch where her husband, Dan, was already slipping his own boots off and reaching for the doorknob to go into the house.

  “Not a single chick?” The question was more of a statement of surprise than a clarification of what he’d just been told. “Shit!”

  “Not a single hint of a chick,” she confirmed. Stacey was beginning to wonder if she overheated or under heated the incubators. She was pretty sure she hadn’t. It wasn’t her first batch of eggs and she had been pretty careful all the way through. “Piglets?”

  “No luck there either,” Dan replied. “We’re still inside the window there.” He waited for her to slip off her muddy boots and then opened the door for her and let her go through ahead of him. They slipped on their house shoes and continued on into the kitchen.

  Dan picked up his coffee mug from beside the sink and filled it full of fresh, hot coffee and then went to sit at the table. Stacey went about putting breakfast together while Dan tried to figure out the puzzle. They weren’t a large operation. They both had other jobs and had started to supplement their income by hatching chicks and selling baby rabbits and piglets. Dan had been able to taper off at work and cut back on his hours, so he had a little bit more time at home. He wasn’t the type who would ever be able to retire, so he had worked out something of a semi-retirement with the construction firm and taken on more of the work at their small farm which was steadily growing into a near full-time job.

  Stacey took care of most of the hatching and rabbits, and he’d taken on the larger animals and milking. They had kept a few roosters to fatten for their own consumption and he had been as concerned as everyone else the first time that they saw the gray/green skin.

  Later, reports had come out from the government that said that the gray skinned birds’ meat was higher in protein and vitamins. The skin color, according to the report, was attributed to the new corn content in the feed t
hat they were feeding. He figured from what he’d read in that lengthy report, that it had something to do with the vitamins that came from the algae added into the corn like the report said. That kind of made sense.

  Whatever it was from, he was more than thrilled with the idea of passing along that higher quality to all of his other animals. After all, if it worked on the chickens, it would probably work on the pigs, too, and maybe even increase the quality of the milk from their goats and two cows. The corn itself was so cheap; he decided to add more of it to all of their daily rations.

  Something was really nagging at him about those eggs not hatching though. They had messed up on counting days for hatching eggs when they first got started, but after several years of doing it, it had become a pretty set routine and they hadn't screwed up much since. Sure, sometimes a few will hatch late, but you also get a few that hatch early, or at least you’d start to hear peeps around hatch day. He was sure Stacey hadn’t screwed up anything. She wrote everything on her hatch calendar religiously. He’d wait until she headed off to work, then he’d call Jim Ward, their local US Poultry Association representative. He’d ask him to come to the house and take a look, and pick his brain to see what he’d heard about anyone else having delayed or failed hatches.

  “You wanna float ‘em?” he asked Stacey. “Probably should have done it yesterday.”

  “Well, I thought about doing it yesterday, but I’m up to my neck at work and simply didn’t have time. Could you do it today?” Stacey asked, as she pulled four strips of bacon out of the skillet and picked up one of the fresh eggs from the laying hens to crack and let sizzle in the hot grease.

  “Yeah, I think I can slip that in this morning. How about the other birds and the rabbits?”

  “They’re doing fine. I’ve got oodles of quail chicks and ducklings and Julip has a half-dozen new bunnies in her nest box this morning, but I’m perplexed about this whole batch of chicks not hatching. I’m pretty sure I didn’t screw anything up, but…” She let her comment trail off as she slipped the spatula under the eggs and put them on the plates with the bacon and toast.

  “Well, I think I’ll get Jim out here this morning and see if he knows anything.”

  Stacey brought the two plates to the table and then went back for her cup of coffee before joining Dan. “You think there’s something else wrong?”

  “I don’t’ know,” he replied. “I’ll know better after I float those eggs, but I think I’ll go ahead and get Jim out here anyway. It’s been a while and he always enjoys coming out.”

  “I could call in to work,” Stacey said. “I have some sick and vacation days that I need to use up.”

  “I don’t think it’s that serious,” Dan replied with a mouthful of eggs and bacon.

  “We’ll know for sure once you float ‘em. You sure you don’t need me to stay home and help you with that? There are a lot of eggs.”

  “I won’t float them all,” he replied. “Just enough to get a good sample.”

  “Alright,” she said as she finished up her own breakfast and sipped on her coffee. She ran back through her memory trying to recall any area where she might have screwed up. Her thoughts turned to something she had avoided thinking about. What if the eggs weren’t viable and they didn’t get a hatching?

  “You’d best get in the shower, Babe,” Dan said, interrupting her thoughts. He took the plates from the table, rinsed them off and placed them in the empty rack in the dishwasher. He returned to the table, pulled out his phone and searched for Jim’s number while Stacey started off down the hallway to get ready for work.

  Chapter 12

  South Carolina

  Late Fall 2020

  Hunter’s uncertified organic farm

  Jacob Hunter finished milking the last of the cows and turned them back into the pasture, where the goats were already getting a head start on the morning’s grazing. He hung the bucket full of milk on a peg in the shed and went to open the various gates on the coops that were along the back of the milking shed. Ducks, geese, and chickens all checked out the opening carefully before making their way out into the pasture along with the goats, cows and pigs. Next, Jacob went and moved the tractors that held the rabbits and the quail. He had specially made these to give his animals more freedom and the ability to forage for most of their food, while keeping them safe from predators. He’d done a lot of work around the place and it showed.

  Elaine came out of the barn next to the shed; closing the door behind her and latching it just as he reached to take the bucket back down from its peg. He went to a second bucket hanging on another peg and took it down as well.

  “It’s sort of like popcorn in there this morning,” she beamed.

  “This is the day,” he smiled.

  Elaine took up a basket, went into the chicken coop and started collecting eggs as the hens cackled at her. She carefully out-maneuvered Witchipoo, avoiding the cranky hen’s beak as she reached in to take the prize waiting in her roost. Once robbed of their eggs, the hens went on out into the pasture along with the entire menagerie and set to pecking through the grass for whatever tasty treats were in store for them.

  Their morning chores were a great deal simpler than many of their neighbors, because they did not feed any commercial grain to their animals. They mostly allowed them to run free in the pasture, only supplementing an organic, homemade mixture on the coldest of days when food was scarce. Luckily, here in South Carolina, the weather was typically mild and the winters were short. Elaine and Jacob felt that free ranging made the animals hearty and healthy. Gathering the animals back in and getting the gates shut in the evenings had some occasional challenges, but for the most part, the routine of the day was easily taken care of.

  When Elaine went back to the house with her collection, Jacob was busy running the milk through the separator on the porch. Once the milk and cream were separated, he placed the containers of each on their own specific shelf inside the refrigerator on the porch. It was legal to sell raw dairy products in South Carolina, unlike some other states, but the regulations were strict. Their milk had to be tested regularly and they were held to a much higher standard than any commercial producer.

  Separating the milk took a long time as their animals were producing a large volume these days and by the time he was finished and had everything cleaned up; Elaine had breakfast on the table.

  “I heard a rumor yesterday,” she said as she sat down with a full cup of coffee while Jacob dug into his breakfast.

  “What kind of rumor?”

  “You remember all of the fuss that was being made about that new corn that people started feeding their chickens?”

  “Yeah... supposed to be higher in protein and vitamins. The same stuff that gave chickens gray/green skin and has their feathers falling out. Yeah, I remember.”

  “Some of the people around here with hatcheries are beginning to have trouble hatching eggs.”

  “Hmmm... Doesn’t surprise me,” Jacob grunted while he ate. He swallowed and then started in on a subject that Elaine had heard more than a dozen times.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t buy all of the hype. Gray skin on a bird just isn’t right. Something has to be wrong with it. There is something in that corn that is causing that and my bet is that it is a chemical problem. I wouldn’t trust those government reports, no matter what they said. If those chemicals are getting passed on from that corn and into those chickens, you can damn sure bet they are getting passed on into whatever else is eating it too.” He pointed at her with his fork. “I’d be willing to bet that it’s sterilizing all of their animals.”

  “I know, Jacob,” she laughed. “You don’t have to convince me.”

  “What’s worse,” he said with his mouth full, “if it’s sterilizing animals, what about the humans that are eating it? When people get to screwing with altering genetics….” He cut off his sentence and shook his head while he shoveled another bite into his mouth.

  “You’re preaching to the choir
, sweetheart,” Elaine said, standing to take his plate. She leaned in and kissed him. “You better get going before you’re late to work.”

  As Jacob started off down the hall toward his morning shower, she began cleaning the dishes and watching the different animals busily grazing in the pasture outside the kitchen window. It was something that she remembered since she was a little girl and it was a scene that always warmed her inside.

  She wasn’t a naturalist nut-job, but she did believe, just like Jacob, that there were far too many chemicals in the foods that people ate. Cancer and some of the other difficult to explain diseases and conditions that didn’t seem to have any sort of cure were likely caused by the overload of chemicals that hampered the natural immunity of the body. If that weren’t bad enough, genetically modified foods and grains that were being fed to animals that were consumed were adding an entirely new dimension to it all. She was so thankful that Jacob saw things the way he did. It had made their decision to start growing their own food and helping others to do the same a lot easier.

  They’d both been raised in conservative families and had listened to their fathers and grandfathers express their disgust about the hippie communes of the sixties and seventies and the new cooperatives felt a great deal like they were slowly moving toward that sort of society. She smiled as she considered them rolling over in their graves at the very idea. Things had changed considerably in the last forty years. She was amused by the fact that it was the same conservative values which had taught her not to trust big government and government institutions that had pushed her and Jacob into their new “subversive,” organic lifestyle.

  “I’m on my way out,” Jacob called out as he rushed through the kitchen and out the back door, disturbing her thoughts.

  “See you tonight,” she called out as the door was pulled shut behind him.

  She had a ton of things to do, so the moment that she was done with the dishes, she was already working on the tattered page of the notebook where her list had already begun to grow.