“Cross the weak strip instead of following it.”
Walter nodded.
“Now you’re understanding the field.”
They repositioned everything. It took another forty minutes. One truck moved to the firm northern edge. A second became an anchor. Snatch blocks changed the pull angle. The main line now pulled the combine diagonally across the buried drainage trench instead of along it.
Keith walked the entire line himself. He checked every shackle. Every pin. Every anchor. Nobody stood inside the cable danger zone. Walter remained off to the side.
Cody climbed into the combine. Keith raised his radio.
“Transmission neutral until I tell you.”
“Copy.”
“Winch one, take tension.”
The cable tightened. Water squeezed from beneath the timber mats. Keith watched. Nothing moved.
“Tension only.”
The truck’s engine deepened. The combine shifted. Half an inch.
Walter shouted.
“Hold!”
Keith immediately stopped. Walter walked toward the left side. One timber had begun twisting. They reset it. Tried again.
This time Keith allowed slightly more load. The combine moved two inches. Then four. The front tire climbed onto the second mat.
Cody shouted from the cab.
“We’re moving!”
Keith didn’t smile yet.
“Easy!”
Another foot. Then another. Mud released the left tire with a deep sucking roar. The combine lurched. Everyone froze.
“Hold!”
Keith checked the cable. Good. Walter looked at the rear tire.
“Keep the wheels straight!”
Cody gave a thumbs-up. Another pull. The second front tire climbed. Then the rear. Six feet. Ten. Twenty. The combine crossed the worst section.
Keith finally allowed himself to breathe.
Then Walter raised one hand.
“Stop.”
Keith looked around.
“What now?”
Walter pointed down. The ground beneath the combine’s tires had changed. Less water. Shallower impressions. He smiled.
“Now you’ve got a machine again.”
Keith understood. They removed several pieces of cribbing. Cody started the combine. The diesel engine roared. Keith kept light tension on the cable. Cody eased forward. The tires turned.
For the first time in nearly six hours, the combine moved under its own power. Twenty feet. Forty. Seventy. It climbed gradually toward the field’s higher northwest corner.
The workers started yelling. Cody leaned on the horn. Keith laughed so hard he nearly dropped the radio. Ryan stood in the rain with both hands on his head.
“Holy hell.”
The combine reached firm ground. Stopped. Nobody cared that rain was still pouring. Cody climbed down from the cab and slapped the side of the machine. One worker hugged Ryan. Another raised both fists.
Keith turned toward Walter. The old farmer had already begun walking toward his John Deere.
“Walter!”
Walter stopped. Keith trudged through the mud after him.
“You’re leaving?”
“Looks like you got it.”
Keith looked back at the combine. Then at the old green tractor. He smiled.
“Gotta admit something.”
Walter waited.
“When you came driving up on that thing, I thought you’d lost your mind.”
“Most people do.”
Cody had followed them. He pointed at the John Deere.
“So what was the plan if the drainage thing didn’t work?”
Walter climbed onto the tractor.
“What plan?”
Cody frowned.
“You brought the tractor.”
Walter looked down at him.
“This?” He patted the faded green hood. “I was headed to my brother’s place when Ryan’s uncle called me.”
Keith stared at him.
“You weren’t planning to pull the combine with it?”
Walter looked at the enormous machine two hundred yards away. Then at his little 1953 tractor. For the first time all afternoon, the old man laughed.
“You boys really thought I was that stupid?”
Even Keith laughed. Cody shook his head.