“Is this it? Is…this…everything?” He asked as he looked over the papers on the table.

Clients always seemed so disappointed by the transaction. It was all just too simple in their minds. Truth be told, these situations never required more than a handshake or a few words of agreement. The flashy rituals on moonless nights with lightning and thunder were more for show than anything else. Makes sense really considering what is traded in some of these deals, the pomp and circumstance makes the clients feel more at ease. And nothing is more important than the client’s satisfaction. Though to be fair, there is a lot more paperwork than there used to be.

“Yes, Mr. Roberts. These are all the documents concerning your arrangement.” Short pregnant pauses and a sip of coffee. Food helped. For some reason, clients responded better over a meal. I suppose it is some sort of comfort sharing a meal with others. Normally, I don’t mind too much, but the limited options at the diner we were negotiating at was disheartening. The local diner, though, was perfect for this event. It was innocuous. People came here for chit chat and a cup of coffee. Nothing of gravity ever happened in a local diner.

“Our pact is sealed once you sign on the dotted line. You sign and your request is fulfilled. As long as you hold up your end of the bargain, our party will not be derelict in their responsibilities. Of course, the terms will not be renegotiated without the express desire of both parties nor without my people at the table.” I let him breathe. Collect himself. He knew all this already but he wanted, no needed, reassurance. What he asked for was not a small matter and the payment for such an action required a substantial fee. His concerns were not without reason.

“What I have to do, I don’t…I don’t think I can…” he stammered.

I kept a neutral face. No anger, no compassion, not even surprise. This happened every time but there was no going back once a bargain had been made. We were here to ensure every deal went through with everyone leaving happy, or at least satisfied.

“It’s a bit too late for that, Mr. Roberts. Now, you can choose to not sign this contract. That is your right after all. You can get up right now and walk away. You can return to your life without any trouble from us or the parties we represent.”

His eyes barreled into my as I spoke. He wanted to believe this, to hope that the events of the last few day could all end up as a bad dream.

“If you choose to do so, you will not remember any conversation we have had. You will forget everything to do with myself and my associates. There will be shades and remnants of memories, but you will chalk it up to unformed dreams and unclear visions of things that might have been but never were.” I leaned in and grabbed his hand. I needed to make sure he paid attention to this part. It was only effective if he was engaged. “More importantly, you will never get this chance again. Your land, your family’s home, and its legacy will not be saved.”

“But I can…there has to be…?”

The carrot was no longer working. It was time for the stick. “Mr. Roberts, the clients we take on are not common individuals from off the streets. My firm does not advertise. There are no billboards on the highway. No commercials late at night. No ads in the papers. We are extremely selective about who we work with. You did not meet with us to get a better offer or to see your options. You were found because you had nowhere else to turn to. To put it bluntly, Mr. Roberts, you are a desperate man at the end of the road and we are the only lifeline you have. So, I am asking you to end this charade and sign the papers.”

He pulled back his hand. I work with the broken and downtrodden. You rarely see me, or my peers, if you are not at least one of those. Even so, there is always some faint glimmer of hope and resolve in these people. Like they believe that there will be some way to come out on top. There never is. It is always something to see the last embers of spirit die out in a person. I don’t know if it is part of the deal or just a matter of life, but I was destined to be a witness to these occasions.

Mr. Roberts signed the papers without issue. He was quiet and sullen. What fight he might have had was gone. There was not even enough strength for tears.

“When will it be done?” he asked.

I put the documents away in my briefcase. The firm preferred professional attire for certain meetings, particularly with clients. Not really sure when the last time I wore a suit was and had trouble finding it before this trip. Rules were rules however.

“Initial improvements will begin by tomorrow morning and will then progress in a timely manner for the duration of the terms of the contract. As well…”

“Wait!” he interrupted. “What do you mean ‘will progress’? I was assured that my farm would be saved. That my land would prosper in exchange for… for…”

I held up my hand to cease his speech. “Mr. Roberts, I know what was promised from both sides and it will be delivered. That being said, it would not be wise to have the local news begin to report on the ‘miracle’ farm that somehow began to grow the best crops in generations during a drought. That would bring larger media attention to you and your land. As well, there would be questions being asked that you cannot answer. Discretion is a necessary component of these arrangements. Understood?

He nodded his head in agreement. “As for my end of the deal?” he asked. Roberts could not lift his head up. He knew what he had to do, but saying it out loud made it far too real. “I won’t risk anyone else. I know what was asked, but I just…” His voice trailed off into barely a whisper.

“We know. My firm made arrangements, Mr. Roberts. No people will be harmed. Your animals, on the other hand, will have to be used as replacements. Because of this there will be more than the standard offerings.”

“Do I have to…be there for when they do the offer?” The fear in his voice was nearly palatable. He hated me for making him ask almost as much as hated himself for making this deal.

“No. In fact, you will not even know anything happened. Just from time to time, there will be a chicken, a goat, even a calf every once in a while go missing. You will wonder what happened and then remember about this arrangement. After some years have passed, it will become so commonplace that you will not even question the disappearances. In exchange, you will have good fortune and harvest and the smiles on the faces of your children.”

He smiled at the mention of his children. The first, and probably only, smile I had seen on Mr. Robert’s face.

“Of course, there was no way to negotiate the final stipulations of the contract.”

Mr. Roberts finally lifted his head up to meet my gaze. “You mean?”

I sipped the last of the diner’s too black to not be considered jet fuel coffee before responding, “Yes, Mr. Roberts. Due to the nature of your request, the final payment is still required.”

“How long?”

“Twenty years as discussed. Twenty years of guaranteed fortune and health. And on the morning of the first day of the twenty first year someone will come to meet you. Does not matter where you are, he or she will be there and the final payment will be taken.”

“So twenty years, huh? My youngest, Emily, just started her sophomore year of high school. She’s already talking about college. Smart as a whip too. Just loves books. So, she gets to go to college. My other kids get some inheritance from the land that brought them up. And my Julie, my love, gets taken care of. All that and I just have to go away after twenty years. Still doesn’t seem fair. It doesn’t seem right, somehow.”

I got up and left enough cash on the table to pay for nearly every meal sold that breakfast. Karmic balances and all. I patted Mr. Roberts on his shoulder. Told him to remember why he was doing all this. Told him to go home to kiss his wife and hug his kids and actually grab what he sacrificed for and to cherish the next two decades. I believe I heard muffled crying as I walked out of the diner. I did not look back to find out. I never look back.

My phone rang as I drove back to the airport. I turned on the hands free option in my rental as I sped through the streets. No need to put myself in any more danger than normal.

“Hello, Clause.”

“Good morning, Poppy. I trust you had a fruitful engagement.”

“Please, do not call me ‘Poppy.’ You know how I feel about your nicknames, Clause.”

“Indeed. Just as you are aware of my degree of concern over your objections. Now, did you have a fruitful venture, Poppy?”

“Mr. Roberts signed. I have the documents and am headed to the airport as we speak. Should be back within a few hours. Everything should be filed and arranged before the day is out.”

“Excellent! Xochi was getting restless. You know how temperamental some of our clients can be.”

I grabbed my left wrist instinctively. Thankfully, there were no longer the associated panic attacks. Just the wrist grab. “I recall. Have all the arrangements been made?”

“Yes. Mr. Roberts’s farm should begin the rejuvenation process by tomorrow and be at optimal conditions of production within the year. It will continue as long as he meets his offering requirement for the next twenty years. Then he must turn himself over to Xochi and his family will be taken care of. He understood his responsibilities?”

“He did.” I arrived at the airport ready to board the firm’s private plane and dust off the last fragments of Mr. Roberts and the heartland from my person.

“Good. I am sure all parties will be content with this arrangement. Happy travels, Poppy. I expect your presence at tomorrow’s board meeting. Prompt as usual.”

“Yeah, about that…” I heard the dial tone as I spoke. Clause had hung up on me. He had his answers so conversation was no longer necessary.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll be there, boss,” I said to myself. “Not like I have much of a choice.”

People always complain about airports. The lines, the delays, the idiotic procedure of screenings with shoes being taken off and put on; it was all pointlessly dull and monotonous. I never had such issues with airports. I suppose this had more to do with the access to private planes and being able to avoid the usual mess of commercial airports. Being with the firm had a few perks and this was definitely one of the better ones.

“Going home, Ms. Parker?” asked the concierge as I boarded the plane.

“Good a place as any, Malcolm. I’ll take a cappuccino once we’re in the air and the latest news available on the deals we have ongoing. Can’t fall behind in this business.”

“Of course, Ms. Parker. We’ll be taking off momentarily. Shall I put in a lunch order along with the cappuccino?”

Malcolm closed the door as he spoke and guided me to my seat. He was a trusted employee and one of the few who knew the true nature of our business. I had no clue what created this loyalty but knew its value.

“No. Just the drink, the deals, and the ride home will be enough, Malcolm.”

“Yes, Ms. Parker. I’ll inform you once we have reached your destination.” Malcolm turned to leave me, but hesitated. “I hope I am not out of line, Ms. Parker, but I am glad your negotiations went well and an appropriate deal was struck.”

Most of my colleagues would have probably reminded Malcolm of his place at this moment, but I was not so vindictive or in need of such an ego boost. I merely smiled at his awkward impulse.

“Thank you, Malcolm. Your gratitude is appreciated.”

He nodded and went back to his duties. True loyalty, but not to me. No, his word was bound to the firm, as was mine. Everything was done for the firm. Such was my life. Though, being up thousands of miles in the air on a multi-million dollar private plane drinking a cappuccino made with a machine that cost more than most people’s cars, it did not look like such a bad life. I looked over a few contracts before nodding off. I could finish reviewing them later. I had nothing but time.