“Sounds insane.”
“Then don’t do it without knowing the flow rate.”
He looked toward her tanks.
“How much water?”
“Enough if the estimate holds.”
“And if it goes colder?”
She looked at the sensor.
“Then we adapt.”
The Older Farmer shifted.
“I checked my main line.”
She waited.
“Pressure is low.”
“How low?”
“Almost thirty percent.”
“That’s a problem.”
“The west pump won’t start.”
“That’s another problem.”
He stared at the ground.
The Young Farmer understood why he had come.
He had not yet learned how to ask.
She waited.
Finally he said:
“You know pumps.”
“Some.”
“You want to take a look?”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
She glanced across her own orchard.
“I can’t leave.”
His jaw tightened.
“So that’s it?”
“What?”
“You’ve got your little system working and everybody else can burn?”
“Freeze.”
“What?”
“Freeze.”
He glared.
She continued.
“You spent the afternoon telling me my work was stupid.”
“I didn’t ask you to cry about it.”
“I’m not crying.”
“You seem to remember it pretty well.”
“I remember everything said on my property.”
The Older Farmer looked toward the rows.
“You going to help or not?”
The Young Farmer studied him.
Then called to the retired irrigation technician.
“Can you cover the north sensors for twenty minutes?”
The technician looked toward the Older Farmer.
Then toward her.
“Sure.”
The Young Farmer grabbed her tool bag.
“Let’s go.”
The Older Farmer seemed almost disappointed she had not refused.
They drove across the road.
His pump house was four times the size of hers.
Newer.
More expensive.
Also badly maintained.
The Young Farmer crouched beside the west pump.
She opened the panel.
The smell told her first.
“Contactor burned.”
The Older Farmer frowned.
“It ran in September.”
“It isn’t September.”
“Can you fix it?”
“Maybe.”
She checked the spare shelf.
No correct replacement.
She found a compatible contactor on another unused circuit.
“You need this section tonight?”
“No.”
She moved it.
Twenty-three minutes later, the pump started.
The Older Farmer smiled despite himself.
“See?”
The Young Farmer did not smile.
“Pressure still isn’t right.”
They walked the main line.
A pressure regulator had partially failed.
One valve was not fully opening.
Two filters were filthy.
The Young Farmer looked at the Older Farmer.
“When did someone actually inspect this?”
“I have people.”
“That wasn’t my question.”