"Where did you hear that?"
"Martin."
"Good. I was worried you invented it."
He rolled his eyes.
By his eighteenth birthday, Ethan was handling much of the digital record system under supervision.
Melissa remained skeptical about how much time he spent at the ranch.
She came one Saturday and watched him work.
He moved between the barn office and nursery system carrying a clipboard, checked a tag number, entered weights, then stopped a transfer because one receiving document had the wrong site code.
The driver looked irritated.
Ethan did not care.
He called Tom.
They corrected the paperwork before the fish moved.
Melissa watched the entire thing.
Later she found me by the pond.
"He is good at this."
"Yes."
"I thought he was just fishing with you."
"So did I."
She smiled.
"Do not let him quit school."
"I would not."
"He listens to you more than me."
"That is because I do not live with him."
She laughed.
Ethan graduated that spring.
He enrolled in a state university program combining environmental science and business, close enough to work weekends during his first year.
He complained that college classes were less interesting than actual pond management.
I told him that actual pond management had people like Tom because Tom went to school.
"Did you?"
"Not for this."
"Exactly."
I had no answer, so I changed the subject.
By the end of the second year, the business had annualized revenue above $300,000 with several contracted relationships extending into the following season.
An independent agricultural business appraiser reviewed the operating history, equipment, customer contracts, trust management rights, certified stock position, and projected cash flow.
His valuation report landed on my kitchen table in a thick envelope.
I expected a number around four hundred thousand.
The conclusion was approximately $640,000 as a going concern under the existing management agreement and customer base.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
Ethan came through the door.
"What?"
I handed him the report.
He found the number.
His mouth opened.
"Grandpa."
"It is an estimate."
"Six hundred forty thousand dollars."
"Approximately."
"You always ruin numbers."
"That is how numbers stay useful."
He sat at the table.
"Karen dumped a six-hundred-forty-thousand-dollar company into your pond."
"No."
He looked at me.
"Here we go."
"She dumped fish into the pond. We built the company."
Ethan thought about that.
Then nodded.