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12. Shotgun’s Advice
- University of Wisconsin Press
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Ben Wesley valued Shotgun Slogum’s advice; he always did. Shotgun was one of those fellows who gave you his opinion whether you wanted it or not. That of course turned off some people. They didn’t want to be reminded of a wrong-headed idea or something they did that Shotgun thought was off base and cockeyed. True, Ben didn’t always agree with Shotgun’s critiques, but Ben always listened. As time passed, he listened more carefully, as Shotgun Slogum, different from a good many people, didn’t open his mouth unless he’d thought through what he had to say. One of Shotgun’s favorite sayings was “It’s better to keep your mouth shut and be thought a fool than open it and remove all doubt.” Ben was especially curious what Shotgun would say when he told him about his job offer. Though no longer president of the Ames County Fruit and Vegetable Growers Cooperative, Shotgun still represented the main thread of the cooperative’s thinking—providing a marketing opportunity for the small- and mid-sized fruit and vegetable growers in the area. Ben didn’t want to do anything to undermine this group, which he’d helped create and still supported. He chose to drive out to the Slogum place in the early evening, when he knew that the pick-your-own strawberry people had gone home and Shotgun might have a little time to talk. A haze hung over the marshland as Ben approached Shotgun’s farm. The sun was low in the western sky and he heard a sandhill crane call as he 48 Shotgun’s Advice 12 49 Shotgun’s Advice stepped from his car and walked the short distance to Shotgun’s house. In the distance he could see the Tamarack River that bordered Shotgun’s place. Lazy threads of thin horse-tail clouds rose from the river as the cool air of evening met the warmer river water. “Ben, come in,” Shotgun said when Ben knocked on the door. “Just finishing up my supper. Want a cup of coffee?” “Don’t mind if I do,” Ben said as he sat down at the big wooden kitchen table. Shotgun poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Ben. It was strong, the kind of coffee Ben liked. Though he had long lived alone, Shotgun ’s place was neat and tidy, not at all like the places of some bachelor farmers that Ben knew. “Good to see you again,” Shotgun said. “Got any leads on a job?” “Matter of fact I do,” replied Ben. “Well, that didn’t take long. I knew it wouldn’t. I don’t wanna swell your head, but there ain’t many Ben Wesleys around.” “Thank you,” Ben said. “Say, you want a chocolate chip cookie to go with your coffee? I stopped at that little bakery in Link Lake the other day and bought a couple dozen. Best darn bakery in all of Ames County, that one. Make cookies like my mother used to make.” “Sure,” Ben said. Shotgun pulled a sack of cookies from a shelf behind him, took one out, and handed the bag to Ben. He broke the cookie in half, walked over to the door, opened it, whistled softly, and called, “Henry.” Ben saw a raccoon amble from around the corner of the house, crawl up on the porch, and gently take the broken cookie from Shotgun’s hand. The raccoon turned and waddled off. “Friendly little fellow,” Ben said. “Yup, raised Henry on a bottle. Car ran over his mother. Little guy would’ve died if I hadn’t taken him in. He’s found a home in my old corn crib. So, what’s the job offer?” Shotgun asked, looking Ben straight in the eye. “It’s what I want to talk with you about. Don’t know if I want to say yes or no to it.” “So, what is it? President of the bank?” Shotgun laughed when he said it. [35.153.106.141] Project MUSE (2024-03-29 11:54 GMT) “Not quite. It’s working for this new Osborne University. You know about them?” “Only what I’ve read in the paper. What do they want you to do?” “They want me to be a research application specialist.” “A what?” “Research application specialist.” “What in hell is a research application specialist?” Shotgun asked, smiling. “Fancy name for a county ag agent. They want me to...