Boots thudded loudly against wood as Troy tromped down the narrow hatch of the dome. He had a wide array of papers and folders from the desk, shuffling in his hands.
So far, he hadn't found anything of note about the fence. It was odd; if someone had gone through the trouble of fortifying this fence and running all of those lines, hooking up solar panels, why wouldn't it be documented? Bragged about? But, maybe that was just him. Always documenting.
He vaguely recalled his notebook, lying abandoned on his bed. His fingers twitched, itching to write. But, write what? The only thing of import was this damned fence. But, he had no findings to share to the pages. No facts or reasons. So, what would he write? 'I found a fence. It's weird. It has wires and solar panels and its anchored to the ground.' Just observations. He needed more.
Troy made his way down the wide staircase and out of the building. The Gator was still parked, haphazardly, in front of the entrance. He looked up from his stack of papers as Amelia approached.
"Hey," she started, breathing slightly ragged, walking closer to he and the side-by-side. "Did you get finished with the socket set?" Her tone was polite, but her eyes were bored as she plucked a small leaf from her auburn hair.
"You sound out of breath," Troy noted, smiling and tucking the stack of folders under his arm.
"I was with Alicia," the girl began, then paused, brow furrowing for a quick second. "In the Orchard! We were gathering apples," she finished quickly.
"Hey, now," he began, setting his free hand up in mock defense. "Ease your mind. I'm not judging."
Amelia's face blushed furiously and Troy was certain about the pair then. He chose to take the higher road, not embarrass her further. She seemed quite bashful. "In the back," Troy nodded towards the Gator.
Amelia, arms crossed, nodded back and swiftly shuffled to the rear-end of the vehicle, retrieving the plastic case. She popped the clips on the front and opened it, frowning slightly. "Where's my ratchet? And the 10mm?"
Troy's eyes searched the air around him for a moment as he sifted through his head to discern their location. "Ah," he breathed, digging into his pocket. He produced the tool and held it out for her.
Amelia took it, smiling and set it neatly back into the case. "10mm's are like the BIC lighters of shops. The reason they put little chains on pens in banks. They seem to walk off a lot." She laughed, realizing she was ranting a bit. About a socket.
"I hear ya," Troy agreed, sitting his stack of papers down onto the seat of the ATV. "I, myself, am a notorious pencil thief. I'm not ashamed. So, beware of the high probability that random office supplies may vanish."
They shared a laugh and, with a last wave, Amelia grabbed the tool set and disappeared behind the corner of the building.
Troy shook his head to clear his thoughts of the fence. No progress imminent, it seemed. So, he abandoned the files and started off towards the Cannery building. He hadn't yet gotten the chance to fully explore this new place, so he felt the building that housed the food was a good place to start. His grumbling stomach agreed.
Troy rounded the corral that sat in the center of the three main structures. The main building, 'Mayor's Manor' he coined in his mind, chuckling, the Cannery, where they processed and packaged the fruits and veggies, and the barn building, which was self-explanatory.
The Cannery, like the Barn, was equipped with a large bay door, and to it's left was a smaller, single-door entrance. Troy turned the warm knob and stepped inside.
In the interior, there sat a few rows of multi-colored machines, lines of conveyor belts. A few large, bowl-like containers sat against the back wall, reminding him of the vats in movies. To the left, a set of metal stairs ascended to a small control room looking out over the area. Behind it, a metal walkway leading to what Troy gathered as the minute living quarters Madison had spoke of.
Speaking of Madison, she sat perched half-way up the stairs, lightly peeling the label back on a mason jar that seemed to house diced peaches. "Find anything on the fence?" She questioned, looking up at Troy a moment before turning her eyes back to her fruit jar.
"You know how when you say or think about a word too much? And then it stops sounding like a word? That's where I'm at with 'fence.' "
Madison cracked a smile, still looking at her food. Troy stepped forward and leaned against the edge of the stairs' banister. He sighed, "No luck."
"You hungry?" Madison asked, looking up at him.
Troy considered this for a moment, found he kind of was. "Famished," he replied.
Madison didn't speak again, just shifted position and pulled her knees apart slightly, leaning down in between them. It was then Troy noticed the carefully stacked cardboard sleaves of mason jars butted up against the underside of the stairs. Madison reached through her legs and produced two different jars. She turned them, label out, and held them as offerings. 'Scott Farms' emblazoned along a white backdrop. "Peaches, or pears?"
Troy scrunched his nose, debating. "Pears," he relented after a moment.
Madison nodded and slid one of the jars back under the stairs. She leaned up and Troy stepped up a stair to meet her as she handed him the jar. Troy's long fingers ghosted against Madison's on the glass container before he pulled away. Quickly. And he spoke swiftly, to deter the confusion seeping into his brain at the slight touch. "Since I'm not getting anywhere with the fence. Do you want to sow me the crops? How everything's growing?"
Madison nodded, not meeting his eyes as she stood from the steps. She picked up her peaches and began walking across the large room. Finishing the contents of the jar, she dropped the glass easily into a plastic bin. "Follow me," she said, leading him out of the door. Madison immediately turned to the right upon their exit and Troy shadowed her, unscrewing the cap on his jar of pears.
They walked in silence a minute or two, Troy steadily using his index and middle finger to shovel diced pears into his mouth. Madison stopped in the middle of the road leading to the main gate. There were fields on either side of them now.
"We have turnips, squash, tomatoes, okra, wheat, bell peppers, potatoes, and more. We have daily shifts tending to the fields but it seems I have more luck with the fruit trees," she stated, looking at Troy surveying the area.
Troy twisted the lid back on his jar and slid it into an over-sized pocket on his black cargo pants. He stood straight and set his hands on his hips, stepping over the turnrow into the field to their left. He stood there only a moment, scanning the rows before turning back and stopping beside Madison. "For one, your levee gates are too high. The water can't pass through to the other rows." He walked around her, and she turned with him. "Have you ever thought of hanging the tomatoes?" Troy continued across the road and went a few yards out into the opposite field. Rows of cage wire lined blooming tomatoes.
"Hanging tomatoes?" Madison questioned, skeptically, crossing her arms over her chest. She observed the young man in front of her curiously.
"Exactly like it sounds, Madison. Come on, I'll show you." Troy walked over to a tomato cage, and in one swift, shimmied movement he uprooted the plant and cage. He turned it sideways in his grasp to support the roots and deter the plant from sliding out of the wire. Troy jerked his chin for Madison to follow. His long legs carried him quickly back up and around the corral. Madison struggled to keep his stride. He stopped when he neared the Mayor's Manor and spoke. "Do me a favor?" He nodded towards the line of potted plants in the front of the building.
There were plenty to choose from, but Troy kicked his boot at a fern in a plastic black pot. Much more lightweight than that of the other, orange clay pots. Madison took his cue and lifted the fern from the ground, dumping it's contents.
Troy shifted the tomato cage in his hands as he grabbed the pot from her. She watched him quietly and he was vaguely aware of her appreciative stare. "If you invert the tomatoes," he said, sliding the pot onto the rooted end of the plant. "It forces the nutrients downwards. Instead of the plant having to work for it, sucking it up, gravity does it's thing and it grows better. Certain crops will yield more, faster and bigger."
He turned the plant upside-down and fastened the wire cage through the groove holes on the pot. He fashioned a hook from the handle of another pot and used it to clasp the inverted tomatoes onto the outcropping of the door. "If it doesn't rain much, you just gotta pour water through the holes in the pot and presto, you're on the fast track to bigger and better 'maters." He laughed. "Twice as big, twice as many, twice as fast." He laughed again and a broad smile lit up his face as he turned the hanging cage around in his hands.
"So, we should just uproot all the plants and string them up?" Madison asked, looking to Troy.
"Not necessarily. Some fair better than others. And some do great with hydroponics," Troy replied, turning his attention to her. "But, we do need to dig out some of those levee gates so the water flows more freely."
Madison bobbed her head in agreeance, "There should be a few shovels in the front of the barn. We can grab those and take the Gator around the fields."
Troy began walking towards the barn, but turned back at Madison's voice, setting his hands on his hips and scrunching his nose a bit.
"And Troy?"
He met her eyes.
"Thank you."
He nodded and turned, quickly continuing his trek towards the barn. With each step, he was glad to feel the weight of her mossy green eyes fade.