Apparently.
John Deere’s franchise approval took fourteen months.
The company investigated Eldon thoroughly.
Financial strength.
Service capacity.
Territory reputation.
Management history.
Business ethics.
Customer references.
One regional representative called Dennis Rutherford.
Another called Phil Sutter.
Another called Howard Greer, now living in Lincoln.
Howard told them:
“If Carver says something, write it down.”
“Why?”
“Because you won’t need him to say it twice.”
The review came back extremely strong.
Eldon had low debt.
Profitable operations.
Eleven years of equipment experience.
Seven-county customer reach.
High service reputation.
Manufacturer representatives had already heard his name.
Approval came.
Closing was scheduled for June 1990.
The morning Eldon returned to Pruitt’s dealership, he woke at 4:50.
He did not need to.
Closing was at ten.
Ruth found him sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee.
“You nervous?”
“No.”
She smiled.
“Liar.”
Eldon looked at his hands.
“Little.”
“About the money?”
“No.”
“What?”
He stared through the dark kitchen window.
“That building.”
Ruth understood.
“You don’t have to prove anything today.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Eldon smiled.
“Working on it.”
He drove into Plattsmouth in a clean 1988 Chevrolet pickup.
Not new.
Eldon rarely bought new vehicles.
He parked.
For a moment, he sat exactly as he had in 1979.
Same building.
Updated sign.
Thinner equipment lot.
Same front door.
He stepped out.
His coat zipped properly now.
He entered.
The showroom floor was still polished.
A new green tractor stood beneath fluorescent lights.
Different model.
Same effect.
Dale Pruitt stood near the office.
Older.
Thinner.
Gray at the temples.
Eldon walked toward the closing table.
Dale looked at him.
For several seconds, there was no recognition.
Then there was.
It happened visibly.
Dale’s face changed.
Neither man spoke.
Eldon’s attorney arrived.
Title representative.
Bank representative.
John Deere regional manager.
Documents covered the table.
Eldon sat.
He read everything.
Every page.
Some people became restless.
Eldon did not rush.
He had spent eleven years reaching that chair.
He could spend another hour reading.
He signed.
Real estate.
Assets.
Franchise assignment.
Inventory.
Debt settlement.
Final signatures.
Dale signed too.
At the end, everyone stood.
Eldon shook hands with the title representative.
Bank.
John Deere representative.
Attorney.
Then Dale.
Their handshake lasted perhaps one second.
Eldon said:
“Thank you.”
Dale nodded.
Nothing else.
No speech.
No:
Remember me?
No revenge line.