Then said, "I still think it can do useful work."
Wy looked toward it.
"So do I."
He paused.
"But we're not keeping it just because you've already spent money on it."
Hazel smiled faintly.
"I know."
He continued.
"If the repair cost grows beyond what makes sense, we stop."
She nodded.
That lesson became important.
Hazel loved fixing things.
But she was learning that not every repair was worth completing.
Sometimes the machine's purpose, cost, and safety mattered more than the satisfaction of seeing it move again.
By the end of July, the larger sheller was ready for a supervised test.
Hazel stood beside it wearing her cream-colored work shirt, denim overalls, protective gloves, and tied-back hair.
Wy operated the machine under the agreed test conditions.
Pearl watched from a safe distance.
The drum began turning.
Its movement was smoother than Hazel expected.
The first batch of pods entered.
A mixture of peas and hulls emerged into the collection system.
Hazel grinned.
For a moment, she thought they had succeeded.
Then the mechanism began making an irregular knocking sound.
Wy stopped it immediately.
They examined the problem after ensuring the machine was safe to inspect.
A worn part had shifted under load.
The repair would need further work.
Hazel closed her eyes.
Then laughed weakly.
"Of course."
Wy shook his head.
"Better to find it now."
Pearl approached.
She examined the few peas they'd collected.
Then looked toward Hazel.
"Well."
Hazel sighed.
"Don't say it."
Pearl smiled.
"That's more peas than it shelled yesterday."
Wy burst out laughing.
Hazel stared at her grandmother.
Then began laughing too.
For a moment, the disappointment faded.
But Hazel knew the truth.
The small wooden sheller had become dependable.
The big machine still needed work.
And the hardest part of the harvest season was approaching.
She had to decide whether to keep repairing the drum or rely on the smaller machine and find another way to increase production.
The decision would become urgent sooner than she expected.
On August 3, a pickup truck stopped beside the packing shed.
Rafe Slone climbed out first.
Clay Duvall followed.
Then Ned Collier.
Hazel was standing beside the wooden processing table, operating the repaired hand-crank sheller while Pearl sorted purple-hull pods nearby.
The old metal drum sheller sat on the opposite end of the work area, waiting for its next repair.
Rafe looked toward the machines.
Then began laughing.
"Well, I'll be."
Hazel stopped.