Then Earl reached for the draft agreement. "I have three changes," he said. Larkin straightened, expecting a demand for a much higher percentage of the proceeds. Earl's pencil marks fell on three different sections of the document, none of them where Larkin expected.
"First, the bank pays all transportation costs to bring acceptable barrels here and take rejected stock away," Earl said. "Your employees and your contractors can choose how that happens, but the expense isn't passed into my workshop after the fact." Larkin considered the proposal. "Reasonable enough, if we agree on the receiving schedule."
"Second, damaged barrels and material without adequate origin records are separated before you calculate the price or the processing volume," Earl continued. "I will not bill you as though I can turn rotten wood into premium furniture stock, and I will not let the bank describe rejected material as material I've accepted for sale." Ray slid the inspection categories across the table, and Larkin studied them closely.
"Third," Earl said, "if I'm going to reserve space, expand shifts, and bring in more people for this contract, the bank guarantees a minimum amount of paid work throughout the agreed term. The workers don't carry the entire risk if your management decides to change course halfway through." Walter looked down at his hands, and Ray stopped moving his pencil.
Larkin took off his glasses. "That's it?" Earl looked at him. "Those are the changes I need. We'll still have to settle the processing rates and commissions, but the basic arrangement has to be fair before the numbers mean anything."
The manager studied him across the whiskey-oak table. He had expected Earl to use the bank's embarrassment as an opportunity to demand more than the work was worth. Instead, Earl was asking for responsibilities to be placed where they belonged. The bank would own the new stock until it was sold through the agreed channel, Earl would be paid for defined services and earned sales, and neither side would pretend the other was receiving something free.
"Why aren't you asking for everything you can get?" Larkin said. Earl leaned back, his old chair giving a familiar creak. "Because everything I can get from you today isn't the same as everything this work might be worth over time." The manager frowned.
Earl continued. "I wanted to keep my farm. Now I want to keep people working and supply material I can defend. If you make money while that happens, I don't see a problem."
Larkin looked toward Walter and Ray. "You don't hold a grudge?" he asked. Earl considered lying politely, then decided there was no reason to. "I remember what happened," he said. "I remember you laughing. But remembering something isn't the same as making every decision because of it."
The manager was quiet. He looked at the table again, then at the original draft. "I suppose I didn't give you much reason to do business with me." Earl nodded. "No, you didn't. You can give me one now by writing an agreement we'll both honor."