“So?”
“Trade?”
Wendell raised an eyebrow.
“For what?”
“I have smaller pipe.”
“I don’t need smaller pipe.”
“You might.”
“I’m retired.”
Della considered.
“I’ll clean your barn.”
Wendell laughed.
“All of it?”
She looked around.
The barn was enormous.
“Half.”
“Quarter.”
“Deal.”
Wendell held out his hand.
She shook it.
He drove the large pipe to the Pruitt farm himself.
Harlan watched the truck enter.
“What did you buy?”
“Nothing.”
“That answer concerns me.”
Wendell climbed out.
“Your daughter negotiates harder than you.”
“What happened?”
“I lost four lengths of pipe.”
“What did you get?”
“A cleaner barn.”
Harlan looked at Della.
“She traded labor?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Quarter of his barn.”
Wendell nodded.
“Should’ve asked for half.”
Della smiled.
With the larger main line, the system changed.
Della placed the biggest diameter near the tanks.
Reduced gradually.
Moved the header closer to the test rows.
Removed two unnecessary bends.
Raised the tanks slightly on a reinforced platform Harlan built after checking the load.
The third attempt happened in mid-July.
By then, the soybean field was visibly stressed.
Leaves folded during the afternoon.
The upper soil dried quickly.
Harlan had irrigated conventionally twice, but diesel costs made him reluctant to run the pump daily.
Della opened her valve.
Water moved through the large main.
Reached the header.
First drip line.
Second.
Third.
Fourth.
She walked every row.
Emitters began darkening the soil in slow, narrow circles.
Not sprays.
Not puddles.
A steady line of moisture.
Della crouched.
Pressed one finger into the soil.
Wet.
She moved ten feet.
Another emitter.
Wet.
End of the line.
Still flowing.
She looked toward Harlan.
He had both hands in his pockets.
“Well?” she asked.
“Wait.”
“For what?”
“Uniformity.”
They waited thirty minutes.
Checked again.
The beginning of the lines delivered slightly more than the ends.
But every row received water.
The test plot was alive.
Della smiled so hard her cheeks hurt.
Wren ran across the field.
“It works?”
Della nodded.
Wren screamed.
Cass shouted from the fence:
“It’s just water!”
Wren shouted back:
“You’re just jealous!”
Harlan laughed.
Then he looked at Della.
“Now comes the hard part.”
Her smile faded.
“What?”
“Proving it matters.”
That surprised her.
She had thought getting water to move was the victory.
Harlan knew better.
A system that worked mechanically could still fail economically.
How much water?
How much labor?
How much material?
How many hours?