That afternoon June studied the pages in the harvest folder, then looked over at Martha's service truck. "You're trying to buy a combine," she said.
"Trying to figure out whether trying is stupid," Martha replied.
"Depends on the combine."
"That's the problem. Every one I can afford needs twice what I have left in the bank."
June turned another page. "What about auction machines?"
Martha gave a humorless laugh. "They need three times what I have left in the bank, only they wait until after the auction to tell you."
But later that evening, after June had gone home, Martha checked the regional auction listings anyway. She had been doing that once a week for a month, though she never admitted it. There were grain carts, augers, tractors with missing paperwork, and several combines whose photographs hid more than they revealed. Near the bottom of the page she found a listing from Briggs Farm Equipment Auctions: JOHN DEERE 7720, NONRUNNING, AS-IS, HEADER SEPARATE, REPAIR OR PARTS. The minimum bid was low enough to be insulting. The photographs showed sun-faded green sheet metal, yellow wheels, and a cab that looked intact despite its age. The description said the engine would not crank.
That phrase interested her. "Won't crank" was not the same as "engine seized," and it was certainly not the same as "destroyed." Sellers regularly used the words interchangeably when a machine had become an inconvenience. Martha zoomed in on a photograph of the engine compartment, searching for recent oil staining, missing covers, and signs of careless work. The picture was not detailed enough to decide anything. She wrote the serial number on a yellow pad and called the auction office the next morning.
Walter Quinn, the auction manager, answered with a tired voice and the sound of paperwork being moved across a desk. Yes, the 7720 belonged to Calvin Briggs personally, he said. Yes, the header would be offered separately. No, the auction company made no representation about the engine. Calvin had brought in three mechanics who failed to get it running and now wanted it off the lot. Walter sounded relieved when Martha said she understood. He had spent too many years explaining the difference between an auction description and a warranty.
"Can I inspect it before the sale?" she asked.
"You can look. No starting or disassembly without the owner's permission."
"Fair enough."
Walter paused. "I'll tell you something else. Briggs has been calling it scrap, but he gets sentimental about it whenever somebody offers scrap money. Go figure."
Martha wrote that down beside the serial number. She had seen machines whose owners could not decide whether they wanted to sell them or be reassured they were still valuable. Emotional attachments were understandable. They were also difficult to finance. At closing time she showed the photographs to June, and June crouched over the phone until Martha wondered whether the younger woman had forgotten to breathe.
"Could we get parts?" June asked.
"Most of them, if we spend our money carefully."
"Could we work on it ourselves?"
"Probably. It depends on what we find."
June looked up. "Then why aren't we going?"