Chapter 42 Agritourism

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"Agritourism."

Noah and Marge turned to look up at Ray, who stood in the doorway between the pocket doors of the kitchen.

"Sorry," Ray added, quickly. "I didn't mean to..."

"No," Noah said, motioning him in. "Come in. Say your piece."

"I've never heard of agritourism," Marge said, frowning as she crossed her legs at the knees and leaned forwards. "What is it?"

"Agricultural tourism, which is basically turning a working farm into a tourist attraction," Ray said, coming in and taking the seat opposite her and to the left of Noah, putting his back to the bureau. "It's entertainment, education, and income, all in one. I came across it in one of Alan's books last year, right around the time we started getting people passing through on road trips."

"That happens about twice a year, during the warm months," Noah said.

"Exactly," Ray said, pointing at Noah. "Even passing through they bring revenue to the gas stations, grocery stores, hardware, bookstores, etc. If we could get them to stay, we could increase all of that, and expand on services: maybe add a campground, and a lot for trailers and Winnebago."

Noah and Marge glanced at each other, straightening in their chairs as they both felt that tingle that comes with opportunity. Or kismet.

"I've been doing some research," Ray continued. "The Dalton farm would easily convert, and it has enough space for a petting zoo, with pigs, goats, some cows, even a horse or two. Crops are a given, with a corn maze, a garden where they could pick their own vegetables, and maybe even a pumpkin patch. You could even play up the whole crop circle angle."

Finishing somewhat breathlessly, Ray looking between the two. Their expressions were unreadable, and suddenly less sure than he was when he started, Ray withdrew back into his seat. "It's just an idea," he finished, voice fading out.

"And not a bad one at that."

This time they all looked to the doors leading into the front hall behind Marge, where Jeff and Alan had appeared.

Jeff, the one who'd spoken, smiled. "How much would that cost?" he asked, placing his hands on his wife's shoulders.

"Maybe five or six thousand," Ray said. "Maybe more, depending on the work needed on the house."

"Hmm," Jeff said, nodding pensively.

Their gazes dropped as they all became pensive in turn. All except Noah, who turned his gaze on his son. Alan, who had taken the initiative to go to the subsidiary to learn new strategies; Alan, who had come up with the plan to divide the land amongst the remaining farms; Alan, who more than any of them had been thinking of new ways to not only survive but thrive.

"Alan," Noah said. When his son looked at him, he asked, "What do you think?"

All eyes turned to Alan.

From the moment he and Jeff had come down the stairs and heard Ray talking about Winnebagos, he had not been able to take his eyes off the other. Standing in the doorway, he had been struck listening to research and a well thought-out plan, seeing the look of determination and excitement in blue eyes and then hearing that same excitement in the usually casual voice. Now he was struck by the fact that instead of thinking about it by himself and giving an answer, his father had first turned to him and asked for his opinion.

He glanced at his father with wide eyes, then turned back to blue eyes looking up at him and waiting with hope.

"I think..." he began, as his spine began to tingle, in a way that it never had with his own plans. "I think it's risky. But I also think...it's worth the risk."

The Farmer's Sonजहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें