Cranberry Red: A Novel

67. Fallout

Two weeks after the aborted park dedication and Ben’s subsequent firing from his job with Osborne University, a letter arrived, again in a plain envelope without a return address. Unfolding the carefully handwritten letter, Ben noticed that it was signed by Sara Phillips, his former boss. What did she have to say? After all, he didn’t have to answer to her anymore . Ben sat at the kitchen table and began to read: Dear Ben, You don’t know how difficult it is for me to write this letter, but my conscience forced me to do so. Although you may not have been aware of it—how could you from my recent actions?—I have a lot of respect for you, for your ethics, for standing up for what you believe in, and for your willingness to step forward, as you did at the recent park dedication ceremony. That took a lot of guts, knowing that Osborne University would surely fire you as a result. I wanted you to know that I wrote the “anonymous” letter that you received a short time ago, the one warning about the dangers of Cranberry Red side effects. I feel badly that I set you up to do what I should have done myself. When I saw firsthand what Cranberry Red had done to some lowly night crawlers, I was appalled. But I felt I needed to remain silent to keep my job. I 304 Fallout 67 305 Fallout should have spoken out. I should have insisted that both Osborne University and the International Farm-Med Company stop promoting the product and pull it from the market. I did not. Now I am so sorry that I didn’t stand up for what I believed to be the right thing to do. I thought the least I could do was to write you and let you know about my previous letter. For what it’s worth, I resigned my position the Monday after the park fiasco. All the best to you. I know you will find a new position where you will not be faced with the ethical challenges that Osborne University thrust on you. Fondly, Sara Phillips Ben went back and carefully read the letter a second time. He couldn’t believe it. Sara Phillips, high and mighty Sara Phillips, had effectively pulled the plug on Cranberry Red. Her letter had triggered a series of events that would have taken much longer to play out had she not written it. Phillips was the last person Ben had thought about when he ran through his mind all those who might have written the anonymous letter. He had suspected that someone working at the research station had done it, someone working with Gunnar Godson who knew all about the work. But the research staff had remained loyal to Gunnar and had said not a word. The day after hearing from Phillips, Ben was puttering in his garden when he heard the phone ring. He rushed into the house and answered it. “This is Cindy Jennings from the Ames County board.” “Hello, Ms. Jennings,” Ben said. He still remembered well her role in helping to eliminate all the county agricultural agent offices in Wisconsin. “How you doing, Ben?” she said. Her voice was friendly. “Okay, I guess.” “I wanted to call you earlier and tell you how gutsy it was to stand up to Osborne University, especially in front of a crowd, and even more especially because you worked for them.” “Thank you,” Ben said quietly. “I also want to apologize,” Cindy added. “For what?” “For supporting closing down all the agricultural agent offices in Wisconsin . That was one of the dumbest things I ever did. And I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry, too,” said Ben, as he was once more reminded of the twenty great years when he had been an agricultural agent. “But I’ve got some good news.” “Good news. I haven’t gotten much of that lately,” Ben admitted. “The executive committee of the county board met today, and we voted to reinstate the agricultural agent office and hire you back. The county will cover your salary, the salary of a secretary, and office expenses. So many people were turned off by Osborne University’s antics. The board got formal petitions from both the Fruit and Vegetable Growers Cooperative and the cranberry growers and many...