Two days later, Mrs. Acklen came to visit the complex, the first time she had set foot on the property since the project began. “Good lord,” Mrs. Acklen said when she saw the AstroTurf. “It looks wilder in person than it does in pictures.”
Dr. Grind walked over to Mrs. Acklen and she kissed him and then held one of his hands. He introduced her to the fellows and then took her on a tour of the facilities. As they walked, Mrs. Acklen said, “My husband bought this tract of land about thirty years ago. He just told me it was a good deal and someday he’d get around to figuring out what to do with it. I think maybe he envisioned a hunting lodge or maybe a wildlife preserve. I can assure you, he did not envision this.” Once they’d finished the tour, Mrs. Acklen hugged Dr. Grind. “It’s perfect. It’s a perfect little world that you’ve got here. I really think this could work.”
“I very much hope it does, Brenda.”
“When do you talk to the families?” she asked him.
“Next week. I will personally speak to each prospective family and tell them everything about the project, all the parameters and financial incentives that we’ve discussed.”
“Preston,” she said, gesturing for him to come closer to her. He stepped uncomfortably close and listened intently. “Do you remember that baseball movie with James Earl Jones in it?”
“I never saw it, but I know what you’re talking about. Field of Dreams.”
“That’s it. You know that guy builds a baseball field in the middle of nowhere and the line is, ‘If you build it, he will come.’”
“Yes, I’ve certainly heard that line before.”
“Well, my husband hated that movie. It was irrational, but that line just made him so irritated. He would always tell me, ‘By god, it’s not enough to just build something. You have to give people a reason to stay.’ That’s what he thought with the stores, that you had to sell people on something that they may or may not have known they wanted, because, ultimately, it’s best for both you and them if they believe in it.”
“I imagine that I understand that logic, Brenda,” Dr. Grind answered, wondering if the long car ride had unsteadied Mrs. Acklen’s faculties.
“You need to make these families understand that we’re doing something important. That this is going to make their lives so much better than they would have been otherwise.”
“I’ll do my best. I promise you.”
“I know you will, sweetie,” she said, and kissed him one more time.
He walked her back to the car, where her assistant and the driver were waiting, making small talk with the fellows. As the car drove away, and they waved good-bye, Jeffrey asked Dr. Grind, “What happens to us if she dies?”
Before Dr. Grind could answer, Kalina said, “She won’t die. That much money, you get to live for as long as you want.”
“There are measures in place,” Dr. Grind assured them, though he had no idea if this was true. It seemed in poor taste to mention the likelihood of the study outliving the donor, especially when so much money was at stake. And what he didn’t say, though he understood from his own experiences, was that there were no measures that truly protected against disaster; you simply held on to what mattered and hoped that you found your way to the other side.
They all turned and walked back into the complex, the buildings blending into the woods that surrounded them, keeping their existence a secret until they decided it was time to be known.
chapter seven
Izzy was wearing clothes too nice for chopping up steaming piles of pig meat, so Mr. Tannehill had taken a black garbage bag, cut holes for her head and arms, and pulled it over her head. Izzy made a face of extreme embarrassment, and Mr. Tannehill threw up his arms. “What?” he asked. “What’s the problem?”
“Wearing a garbage bag defeats the purpose of wearing nice clothes,” she said. “I think it’d be better to have grease stains on my blouse.”
“Do what you want, Izzy,” he said, “but you look pretty even in a garbage bag, so don’t think too much on it.”
Izzy went to work with her cleavers, using one to chop and the other to move the meat around on the block. She loved the reassuring thunk the cleaver made as it turned the meat into something perfect. She had kicked off her sneakers and was standing in a tub of ice-cold water, which Mr. Tannehill refilled every two hours to help with the swelling that came from standing around all day in a dry, hot room.