The girl remained silent.
The collector walked around machine.
“I made calls.”
“Heritage registry has three known experimental field units.”
“One in Nebraska museum.”
“One private in Ohio.”
“One in company collection.”
“If that’s F7…”
He stopped.
“Restored right, could be worth seventy-five thousand.”
The mother whispered:
“Seventy-five.”
The girl’s stomach tightened.
That was more than their farm mortgage balance.
The collector looked at mother.
“You understand.”
Then girl.
“I’ll give you ten now.”
“Cash.”
The mother did not speak.
The girl asked:
“Why not seventy-five?”
The collector smiled.
“Because you haven’t proven.”
“So you want risk.”
“Yes.”
“I already bought risk.”
He looked annoyed.
“Fifteen-year-old doesn’t need rare tractor.”
The girl’s expression changed.
“What do fifteen-year-olds need?”
He laughed.
“School.”
“Friends.”
“A car eventually.”
“You don’t know me.”
“No.”
“But I know machines.”
He pointed.
“That belongs with collector.”
The girl looked at old tractor idling steadily.
“No.”
“Twenty thousand.”
Her mother inhaled.
The farm girl’s resolve nearly cracked.
Twenty thousand dollars.
Roof.
Mortgage.
Transmission repair.
A real welder.
College savings.
Her mother stepped beside.
“You decide.”
The girl looked at her.
“You sure?”
“It’s your tractor.”
“But farm—”
“Your money bought.”
“Your decision.”
The girl looked again at collector.
“No.”
He stared.
“Twenty-five.”
“No.”
“You’re being foolish.”
“Maybe.”
“Do you know how many people would kill for this?”
The girl looked down at cracked rear tire.
“I know how many acres we need to cultivate.”
The collector laughed.
“You’re actually going to work it.”
“Yes.”
“That destroys value.”
“No.”
“It proves what it was built for.”
He shook his head.
“Call me when you get practical.”
He left card.
Drove away.
The mother waited until dust settled.
Then said:
“I might have taken twenty-five.”
The girl looked worried.
Her mother smiled.
“I said might.”
The girl exhaled.
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“Scared?”
“Yes.”
“Me too.”
They looked toward tractor.
Its idle was steadier now.
The mother asked:
“What next?”
The girl said:
“Make it safe.”
Running was not the same as usable.
The brakes were poor.