Northern California, September 1973

A bee wove through the blades of grass, zigging and zagging, bobbing up and down. The wild breeze filled with floral scents pulled it this way and that, like micro-flotsam that churned in ocean tides.

As chaotic as the bee's route seemed, it was deliberate and directed, like most of nature’s designs.

Another bee intersected her path. The tired worker zigged. She barely dodged the collision, only to zag around yet another bee circling the same flower.

The bee, along with her sisters, flew around in invisible circles as if compelled by an intangible force, unnoticed by the farmers. In the middle of the barrier were small shrubs with lush violet fruit.

On the edge of the field, Farmer Ted marveled at the acre of shrubs.

His two farmhands, Rob and Luis, were equally pleased. The strange flower invited just one bee for pollination, repelling all others. As the shrubs and fruit grew, so did their barrier, repelling all pesky insects and animals. The strawberry field nearby also enjoyed this protection and grew with half the effort.

Just yesterday, the hard workers lugged heavy tanks of viscous liquid on their backs. These tanks and their contents were provided by the same company that supplied them the fruit seeds. They sprayed two ample sprays a week at the roots and trunk. In less than ninety days, the seeds grew to full producing shrubs. The workers worked quickly to finish the job as the substance changed from bright green to a dull brown by the time they finished. The strong scent of iron and cut grass permeated through their masks. The odor lingered until they went back home to shower.

Ted had been suspicious at first. MagaFarms supplied him with the seeds and the special nutrient without charging a penny. All they asked from him was a mere quarter of the crop’s profits, which they even promised to sell on his behalf.

Ted walked back to the farmhouse and remembered the day the MagaFarms salesman came knocking.

It was a summer day, just like this one, passing by the exact spot he took the deal.

He was warned by his neighbor Eddy to expect the salesman. “Those people smell wrong, and they look too beefed up for salespeople.”

Ever-suspicious Eddy had been right. The salesman kept smiling the entire time they sat together. It was a normal wide smile, which was fine. But alarmingly, the smile stayed on during their entire hour-long discussion. Ted noticed a twitch every now and then. As if the salesman’s face wanted to rest its smile but couldn’t.

The offer was too good to believe and the salesman was enigmatic and problematic. Ted opened his mouth to decline but that was exactly when the salesman came closer and placed his heavy hand on Ted’s shoulder. Ted stood straight, shrugging off the salesman. His chest puffed out. “On second thought, I can try a single acre. Try something different for once. Instead of strawberries year-round.”

The perpetually cheerful salesman returned after the first harvest of the violet fruits, which people at MagaFarms called “Malvaos.” Ted was smiling too. He received an advance for producing more intact fruit than the typical yield. The salesman provided a stack of cash, surpassing profit coming from the rest of his twenty-five acres. Once another contract was signed, the salesman brought him more seeds and supplies. The salesman’s eyes never strayed too long from the harvested fruit. At the end of the transaction, both the salesman and Ted were glad their interaction was over.

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Ted opened the door and raised his nose, welcomed by the smell of roast beef. Gena must have had an especially good day today.

He entered the house with a smile. Life was enjoyable as of late, and he was content.