So Nutty sent me this ask:
Everyone says the Tracy farm is the most efficient in the district. What they don't know is that Jeff's eldest son is a speed freak at harvest time, the second eldest uses math as a weapon, the middle kid can build and repair pretty much anything, the second youngest is into aquaculture and may or may not have a pot crop in the basement, and the youngest, well, there was that strange explosion last week. Jeff and his mother are decent folk, if a little eccentric
And a new AU is born...
The cloud of violet smoke hung low as it rolled over the town of Sharon Springs, Wallace County, and Sheriff Eli Williams sighed deeply. This time the explosion had been felt not only in their town but in Wallace, nine miles east, and Weskan, 12 miles to the west. Someone was talking about an earthquake.
But Eli knew better.
'Dan, write an incident form and put it in the file under Tracy, and get the car ready. It's time to go visiting.'
Dan 'yes Boss'-ed him and filled in the incident form as requested while Eli made a couple more calls, mainly to his counterparts in the other two towns, reassuring them that he was dealing with it. Neither sheriff believed him, grumbling about 'them damn Tracy's'. Eli took it all in his stride.
The Tracy Farmstead – colloquially known as Thunderbird Farm due to the ancient petroglyph found on a cave wall on the farmland – was one of the largest wheat producers in the county, and as such commanded both respect and leeway.
Respect because it was also the oldest farm still held by the original family.
Leeway because, well, them Tracy's were an odd bunch.
Grandma Tracy was the undisputed matriarch. Sally to her friends, she had no rival when it came to baking. Her apple pie won every award in every county show, her jams were fought over and if she invited you over for dinner you knew you were in for a feast.
Jefferson, her son, was an excellent farmer, but he was definitely the start of the eccentricity. Jeff had left the farm as a teen, joined the air force and then NASA, before returning home after the death of his wife to care for his sons.
The boys were where the eccentricity started in full.
Scott, the eldest, was outwardly very normal. Long legged and quite the lady's man, he had followed his father into the Air Force before returning. No one talked about why he had come home, but Eli knew there had been medals awarded and for the first year he'd been home he had not appeared anywhere off the farm. He was also the local crop duster, flying for free over every farm in the county that wanted him (which was most of them).
But there was something about the man. He had a reputation and was hated by all the neighbouring farms. He was fast, could clear a field faster than anyone else. No one could work out how he could, but year in year out he beat the competition with plenty of time to spare. And he took his plane out for joyrides frequently.
John, next eldest, was the odd man out – for a Tracy. Rarely seen off the farm without another brother, he was quiet and withdrawn, and no one could really figure the man out. The Tracy's had built him a special barn on Thunderbird Hill where they'd installed some kind of telescope. John Tracy had his head in the sky.
Virgil Tracy was the all-rounder. Mechanic extraordinaire, artist, pianist, the man could turn his hand to anything, absolutely anything. He was always elbow-deep into some machinery or other every time Eli popped over. He could often be seen around town fixing stuff for townsfolk, playing the piano in the church on Sundays and his paintings hung in almost every building. Virgil was as down to earth as could be, and he was the brother most often seen in the company of the eldest.
Gordon Tracy was the joker of the family. He was the cause of the giant swimming pool out the back of the house and just like his eldest brother he had done a stint in the forces, this time for WASP, and had also returned home injured badly enough that he too hadn't been seen for almost a year.
He was also the second most frequent cause of Eli visiting the homestead. The boy liked to prank, and not everyone was…appreciative…of his expressions. Eli quite enjoyed the variety that Gordon could come up with and he was secretly delighted when the boy pulled off a new prank.
The farm bordered Willow Creek and it was known that Gordon was experimenting with some aquafarming. He was growing some kind of special plant in the basement that he had told Eli would eventually produce a plant that could be used as a natural pain killer.
(If it looked like pot and smelled like pot Eli wasn't going to say anything, especially since pot had been legalised in 2023.)
The youngest one, Alan Tracy, was the one who Eli worried about the most. Not yet eighteen, with four older brothers he was desperate to emulate. But there was not much left for him to stand out.
Alan Tracy was the cause of the regular explosions that rocked the small county of Wallace County. Often accompanied by smoke of various colours rolling in over Sharon Springs and accompanying earthquakes, they were the primary cause of Eli's visits.
No one could or would ever tell him what on earth the boy was doing, but Eli trusted the rest of the family to keep an eye on him.
As Eli approached the farm the smoke became thicker and darker purple. He chuckled to himself, thinking that one day he'd get to the bottom of whatever the boy was creating. But for now, it would be his customary (and frequent) warning he would be issuing.
As he pulled over he espied Sally sitting on the porch rocker. She stood up and waited for him to exit his car. He took off his hat and inclined his head in greeting.
'Thought you'd be by, Eli. Come in and have a slice of apple pie and an iced tea.'
'Don't mind if I do, Mrs Tracy.'
'Leave your boots on the porch, boy.'
'Yes, Ma'am.'