Eighty thousand dollars.
The deadline was October first.
Dileia sat at the kitchen table staring at the letter.
She read the amount repeatedly.
The number seemed almost absurd.
She had spent months trying to save a few hundred dollars at a time.
She'd repaired machinery instead of replacing it.
Worked evenings.
Sold equipment.
And lived on the bare minimum.
Now she needed eighty thousand dollars in weeks.
She contacted the bank.
Asked about a short extension.
Submitted updated farm records.
Explained the experimental crop.
The loan officer listened.
But the bank needed a credible repayment source or a properly supported restructuring proposal.
An uncertain agricultural discovery wasn't sufficient.
The officer suggested she consult a qualified attorney and agricultural financial advisor while evaluating whether a partial land sale or alternative financing was possible.
Dileia thanked him.
Then ended the call.
She walked into her father's workshop.
Sat on his stool.
And cried until her chest hurt.
At some point, she looked toward the large wooden cabinet beside the workbench.
Walter had kept his root-harvesting equipment there.
Most of it was homemade.
Modified blades.
Special lifting forks.
Heavy steel components shaped for roots that conventional potato harvesters couldn't handle.
Dileia stood.
Opened the cabinet.
And found the old deep ripper.
It was rusted.
One lifting arm was bent.
Several hydraulic connections needed replacement.
But the frame remained solid.
She examined it for a long time.
Then looked toward the field maps.
Four hundred acres.
Not all equally productive.
Not all ready for harvest.
But large sections contained established plants whose roots had never been commercially collected.
Her father believed the crop held value.
The problem was that nobody could assess the amount without seeing a meaningful harvest.
Dileia took a breath.
Then reached for a wrench.
For three nights, she worked inside the machine shed.
She replaced damaged components.
Reinforced brackets.
Adjusted the lifting angle.
And modified the old equipment so it could loosen the hard soil without unnecessarily shredding the roots.
She consulted the retired mechanic.
He helped her inspect the repairs and identify components that required professional attention before the machine could be operated safely.
They disagreed about almost everything.
He thought her design placed too much pressure on one support arm.
She thought his preferred arrangement was unnecessarily heavy.
They argued.
Measured.
Rebuilt.
Then tested the mechanism with the tractor stationary.
On the fourth morning, the equipment was ready for a controlled field trial.
The retired mechanic stood beside the shed.
His hands rested on his hips.
“You sure about this?”