Red Clover (15 page)

“Well, Mother, it’s my property now...remember?”

“
Your
property?” his father asked, his tone just short of hostile.

“Uncle Nelson left it to me when he died.”

Henry made a guttural sound. “I didn’t know that.”

“Neither did we,” said Bennett. “How much property? And where in God’s name is Harvard?”

“It’s 684 acres, about twenty miles southwest of Lake Geneva.”

“Never heard of it,” Henry growled.

“Uncle Nelson referred to it as his ‘promised land,’” his mother said.

“That’s a joke.”

“Henry! Please keep your comments to yourself.”

Why would he change now, Mother?

“I don’t know what Uncle Nelson had in mind for that property,” his mother continued, “but I’m sure Lee will make the most of it. I think it’s admirable you’re building a house on it. And I can put you in touch with a highly qualified architect. I’ll call him tomor—”

“I have an architect, Mother. He’s local and knows the area.”

“I see, and what about—”

“And I have a builder, too. Also a local.”

“Oh. What kind of house are you going to build?”

“An A-frame.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Henry...”

“I’m building a fifteen-hundred-square-foot three-bedroom A-frame house, nestled in a clump of tall pine trees next to a bubbling stream. In Harvard, Illinois. Milk center of the world. Population 5,279.”

The silence hung in the air like morning fog.

And I’ve already been handcuffed once and dragged off my property by an arrogant sheriff who knocked up my new best friend…my only friend…not once, but twice, and
—

His thoughts were interrupted by his father’s abrupt exit from the room.

“Don’t mind him, Lee. He just needs time to get used to the idea.”

What idea is that, Mother? That now he’s convinced there is no hope for his youngest son’s success in life? You mean that idea?

Family conversation continued through their meal but was strained. His father’s aloofness was disheartening and his mother’s silence saddening. The children behaved exactly the way he and his brothers had behaved their whole lives at the dinner table—seen and not heard.

He was glad he had plans to visit Dr. Rad and availed himself of that excuse to leave right after he’d taken the last bite of dessert.

13 | Reclaiming the Passion

During the four-hour drive down Route 55 to Dr. Rad’s research facility, Lee reminisced about his intern days—the orchards, the experimental gardens, the vibrant red clover field he and Robin enjoyed working in the most. They were good memories. He supposed he was taking a chance Dr. Rad would be there, but since he lived on the premises and didn’t celebrate Easter in his religion, he was fairly confident he would find him there, probably working if he knew him like he thought he did. He exited the highway and drove five miles to the long gravel road that led to the facility.

Lee parked his car, and not seeing any sign of life, wandered around the property behind the lab buildings to where several experimental gardens had been planted. What he saw shocked him. The massive grid of once meticulously maintained orchards and gardens was now overgrown with prairie grass, weeds, and saplings. Bittersweet vines strangled the trunks of the apple and cherry trees.

Dr. Rad’s pickup truck, an old rusted-out Ford, sat in the middle of one of the orchards, its hood propped open and weeds growing through the engine compartment.

Lee walked to the largest of the four greenhouses. Most of its windows were broken. Peering inside, he saw nothing but dead plants.

Dr. Rad had devoted his life to those projects. Whatever had caused him to let it all go to ruin had to have been serious.

Lee wiped off some of the thick dirt on the back window of the main lab building where Dr. Rad had often spent the night. The twin bed, small kitchen table, and two chairs that he remembered so well were still there. He walked around to the front of the building and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

Lee’s next thought was to get in touch with Robin to see if she knew anything. Luckily, he had kept her phone number in his wallet all these years. He drove to the nearest gas station and called her.

“You know, I think about you every once in a while, Lee. How are things going?”

They engaged in a bit of chitchat before Lee got to the subject at hand. He explained the state of affairs at Dr. Rad’s research facility and asked her if she had any idea what had happened. She told him that the doctor lost funding for his work and had to leave the university. She had heard he was living with a relative in Peoria, and said she would ask her father if he had any additional information. She promised to call Lee back if she found out anything more.

Images of the destroyed research facility nagged at Lee during his drive home. He regretted not having kept in touch with his former mentor. All that research down the drain...unless maybe he was able to get someone else to fund his work. He could only hope so.

* * *

Lee awoke with a start. The clock said three A.M. Wiping the beads of perspiration off his brow, he reflected on the dream he’d just had about Dr. Rad. The doctor had been much older—bent over, grey haired, and walking with a cane. A broken man. Not a typical dream for Lee, whose nightmares usually involved him walking down a dark alley with an axe in his hand or trying to locate a bathroom only to find the edge of a cliff instead.

Not able to fall back asleep, Lee went down to the kitchen, opened a bottle of Bud, and sat in the sunroom. The wide beam of the full moon reflected on the calm water like a spotlight. And that’s when it hit him—how he could satisfy the third condition of Uncle Nelson’s trust. He knew exactly what his next conversation with Dr. Rad would encompass. Now he just had to find him.

* * *

Several days later, Robin called Lee with an address in Peoria for Dr. Rad, but no phone number. The very next day, Lee set off on another four-hour excursion.

After driving past numerous cornfields and the Caterpillar world headquarters, he finally reached the heart of Peoria. He pulled into a parking lot to study the street map he had brought with him. He headed to Dr. Rad’s house on Monarch Street and found himself in what was obviously a poorer section of town—mostly older clapboard homes in various stages of disrepair. Dr. Rad’s street was empty except for a young woman pushing a baby carriage.

Lee climbed the few crumbled steps that led to the small front stoop of Dr. Rad’s residence and pressed the doorbell.

A middle-aged Indian woman answered the door.

“May I help you?” she asked. Her accent was as thick as Dr. Rad’s.

“I’m Lee Winekoop, a friend of Dr. Rad’s. I understand he’s living here, and I would like to visit with him.”

“Hello, Mr. Winekoop. I’m Adishree. I’ll tell my brother you’re here,” she said as she ushered him in. She left him standing in the small foyer, inhaling the distinct aroma of curry. When she returned, she led him into a small living room whose windows were covered by heavy drapes, making it difficult for him to see.

“Lee. Come in.” The voice startled him. Dr. Rad was sitting in a dark corner of the room. A plaid blanket covered his lap. “It’s good to see you. Sit down.” He smiled with his mouth, but his eyes appeared sad.

Dr. Rad had aged considerably in the five years since Lee had last seen him. He was thinner and frail looking. The veins in his hands bulged like they were about to burst.

“How are you, Dr. Rad?”

Lee hoped his sad face did not reflect what was in his heart.

“I’m all right, Lee.” He turned toward his sister and asked her to bring them some tea. The doctor looked back at Lee. “How did you find me?”

“Someone from the university gave me your address. I hope that was okay.”

“They still send me materials—materials I don’t need or want.”

“What happened?”

“We didn’t get funding renewed from our primary grantor, whose interests seem to be more in the area of technology these days. I couldn’t find anyone else to sponsor me.” He smiled. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I’m considered somewhat of a kook in most research circles.” His voice went up an octave when he said the word
kook.

Lee forced a smile. “What about all your research?”

Dr. Rad shrugged.

“When did this happen?”

“It seems like an eternity ago, but I suppose it was just about eighteen months.”

“I went to your lab looking for you.”

Adishree entered the room with a tray, poured tea for the two men, and then disappeared.

“Dr. Rad, if someone were to sponsor you again, could you pick up where you left off?”

“No one will sponsor me. My ideas are too farfetched. And I have a difficult time presenting them.” He slumped even further down in his chair. “Sometimes, even I think they’re unrealistic.”

Lee hoped the determined, albeit eccentric, scientist he had worked with several years earlier was still somewhere in there. “Let’s say someone
was
willing to sponsor you. What would you say to that?”

“Having the rug pulled out from under me was devastating. I’m too old to go through that again.”

Lee leaned forward. “Let me tell you a little something about myself. I grew up with family members very different from me—every one of them. They all thought
I
was a kook. They still do. My parents and two brothers are some of the most successful people you’ll ever meet. And me? Well, I spent my childhood in more psychologists’ offices than I care to remember. I was told I wouldn’t amount to anything because I wasn’t like them.”

Lee stared past Dr. Rad for a moment, steadying himself for what he was about to do.

“I know I’ll eventually find out where I belong in life.” He took his time getting the right words out. “And I would give anything to have a dream, a goal, a passion like yours. You can’t give up on that.”

Dr. Rad said nothing for a long minute, and when he did, his speech was slow and succinct. “It takes a lot of money, my young man, and land. I no longer have access to the university property. I appreciate your enthusiasm, Lee, but my research days are gone.”

“I have the land. I have almost seven hundred acres of land. And I have some money.” He suppressed a proud smile. “Look, I don’t have all the answers, and maybe this won’t work at all, but I sure would like to pursue it. But it won’t work if you consider yourself defeated.” He paused. “What do you say?”

“So you are a kook too. Go ahead. I’m listening.”

* * *

Lee took the next several days building a case for allowing Dr. Rad to resume his research on Lee’s land, the challenge being to convince Stonebugger the endeavor would improve the property. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to use trust fund money for it, and he didn’t have anywhere near enough money in his bank account to sponsor him that way. To help him make his case, he first looked up the word
improve
in the dictionary.

Improve,
verb

to make (land) more useful, profitable, or valuable

Useful,
adjective

1. able to be used advantageously, beneficially, or for several purposes

2. helpful or serviceable

Profitable,
adjective

yielding profit, remunerative, beneficial, or useful

Valuable,
adjective

1. having qualities worthy of respect, admiration, or esteem

2. of considerable use, service, or importance

Lee believed all the definitions supported the idea of using the land to sponsor research that could result in finding a cure or prevention for cancer. But he knew Stonebugger wouldn’t be so easily convinced. When he thought he had all the ammunition he needed, he made an appointment to see him.

When the day arrived, Lee sat in Stonebugger’s waiting room, sweating, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair until the receptionist gave him a dirty look. He wished he had practiced his speech on someone else before coming.

“What is on your mind today, Mr. Winekoop?” he asked when they were both seated in his office.

His voice cracked like that of an adolescent boy when he began to speak. “I’m here to talk about a proposal for improving a portion of my land.”

“This is something separate from the house?”

“Yes.”

Stonebugger’s expressionless stare made him shiver.

“Go on.”

“There’s a brilliant research scientist who has spent the last several years at the University of Illinois studying genetic modification in foods. He recently lost his funding, and I think it would be a huge improvement to my land to allow him to continue with his research.”

“Just how is that?”

“This research is valuable.”

“Apparently the U of I didn’t think so.”

“There just weren’t enough funds to go around. It had nothing to do with the quality of his research.”

“If it was as valuable as you say, they would have found the funds, or someone else would have picked him up.”

“Let me explain the nature of—”

“Let me explain something to
you
, Mr. Winekoop. I am beholden to your uncle’s will, and my interpretation of what he meant by improving the property was something like the house you’re building, or maybe raising a crop, or like the medical facility I talked about earlier with you. I don’t believe the notion of having a scientist—one who couldn’t make it with the University of Illinois—conducting plant experiments is what he had in mind.”

“But—”

Stonebugger got up from his chair, giving Lee no choice but to leave.

As he drove away thinking about their conversation, Lee became increasingly angry. Ebenezer hadn’t even give him the chance to talk about crown gall disease and Dr. Rad’s theory that if you could find a cure for this disease in plants, you could potentially find a cure for cancer in humans, Lee’s strongest argument for the validity of the research. And now he had to tell Dr. Rad he had failed after getting him excited about returning to his cherished work.