It was exactly what she'd hoped for when she purchased the machines.
Not a miracle.
Not instant wealth.
Simply an easier way for Pearl to continue doing something she loved without hurting herself so badly.
Near noon, one of the neighbors approached.
She was a middle-aged woman named Ruthie Barnes, who lived with her husband and two children several miles down the hollow.
Ruthie watched the sheller.
Then asked, "Would that thing work on my peas?"
Hazel looked up.
"What kind?"
"Purple hulls. Same as Pearl's, mostly."
Hazel nodded.
"Probably, if the pods are suitable."
Ruthie hesitated.
"I've got several rows coming in next week."
Hazel smiled.
"That's good."
Ruthie looked uncomfortable.
Then said, "My husband's been laid off from the mill. We've been trying to preserve everything we can, but I can't spend every evening shelling peas and still keep up with the rest of the house."
Hazel's expression softened.
She remembered Pearl sitting at the kitchen table after midnight.
Then looked toward the machine.
"Bring a basket over. We can try a batch."
Ruthie stared.
"Really?"
Hazel nodded.
"Sure."
The woman smiled.
Then looked toward Pearl.
"Your granddaughter's something else."
Pearl laughed softly.
"Always has been."
But Hazel was already thinking.
If Ruthie needed help, other families might too.
And if the sheller could reduce the labor enough to make preserving a harvest practical, perhaps its value wasn't limited to the peas growing in Pearl's garden.
Perhaps the real opportunity wasn't the machine itself.
It was what the machine allowed people to do.
The first outside batch arrived Monday morning.
Ruthie brought three baskets of freshly picked purple-hull pods in the back of her pickup. Hazel inspected them, separated material that wasn't suitable, and prepared the rest for shelling.
Ruthie watched nervously.
She had spent years opening pods by hand and had never trusted old equipment to handle her crop without wasting too much.
The machine started smoothly.
Hazel worked carefully.
Peas collected in the basin.
Ruthie leaned closer.
Then smiled.
"Well, would you look at that."
They continued until the batch was finished.
After cleaning and checking the peas, Hazel weighed the usable output and wrote the amount in her notebook.
Ruthie stared.
"That's all from my baskets?"
Hazel nodded.
"Yes."
For a moment, the woman looked overwhelmed.
Then she laughed.
"My husband won't believe this."
Hazel smiled.
Ruthie reached into her purse.
"How much do I owe you?"
Hazel hesitated.
She hadn't planned to charge.