The Silence it Carries

Chapter- 8: Perhaps a fresh beginning ?

Driving down the highway, Robin was deep in thought. He was running low on money, down to about $2,500 to $3,000. While this amount might seem substantial, Robin knew he needed a long-term solution. His mind wandered to the long stretches of farmland he was passing, sparking an idea: he could fabricate a story to find work on a farm, either as a laborer or a security guard.

As he drove past numerous farms, one caught his eye—a particularly isolated one. He turned in and saw an old man using a pitchfork to loosen some hay. The man noticed Robin and approached, his eyes squinting through thick glasses.

"Hey, mister, did you lose your way? It's not every day I see unfamiliar faces around here," the old man said, adjusting his glasses to get a better look. "You seem quite young."

Robin quickly concocted his story. "Good sir, I need work on your farm. If you can, please arrange something for me. I'm really helpless; the car is all I have," Robin pleaded, hoping his desperate tone would resonate.

"Well, son, I don't really need any help," the old man replied cautiously.

"Please, sir. I was a lieutenant, but when I got injured in the war, they dismissed me without any compensation. I'm homeless and hopeless. If you make an exception, I'll be forever grateful," Robin implored, his voice filled with feigned sincerity.

The old man adjusted his glasses again, scrutinizing Robin. "Well, I do need a watchman for my livestock. So, what's your name, son?"

"Thank you very much, sir. My name is John, John Wilson," Robin replied instantly, the alias rolling off his tongue naturally.

"Well, I'm Fredrick Simonson. Call me Fred and avoid using 'sir'; I ain't cut out for it," the old man said with a warm smile, extending his hand.

Robin shook his hand, feeling a glimmer of hope. "Thank you, Fred. I won't let you down."

Fred led Robin to a small outbuilding. "This will be your quarters. It's not much, but it's comfortable enough. Your duties start tomorrow morning. Just make sure the livestock is safe and sound."

Robin nodded, grateful for the opportunity. He knew he had to lay low and build a new life, at least temporarily. As he settled into his modest quarters, he felt a sense of cautious optimism. This job could be his lifeline, a chance to rebuild while staying under the radar.

Over the next few weeks, Robin worked diligently, earning Fred's trust. He learned the routines of the farm, took care of the livestock, and maintained a low profile. The old man appreciated Robin's dedication, never suspecting the dark past of his new employee.

Fred said he would pay Robin a sum of $2,400 per month. Robin agreed, knowing he had no other choices. This arrangement would help him maintain a low profile and provide a safe place to stay, all the while earning a steady income. After a long day of guarding and tending to livestock, Robin finally retired to the modest quarters Fred had offered him. The room was simple, with a stand fan, a small yellow light, and a mattress with sheets on the ground. Fred, showing a rare kindness, brought him a plate of eggs and bacon for dinner, which Robin gratefully accepted.

After his meal, Robin sat down to make some calculations. He realized that to truly secure his future and blend into the farming community, he would need to buy his own farmhouse, some land, and livestock. This new life, he reasoned, would keep him out of sight and allow him to live peacefully.

Robin estimated the total cost for achieving his goal. A modest farmhouse and about 15 acres of land would set him back around $75,000. Adding to this the cost of purchasing about 15 cattle, which he estimated at $15,000, and farm equipment and initial crop setup costs, totaling around $30,000, he realized he needed around $120,000 to start his new life.