Cause and Effect (4)
A large black sedan arrived at the O'Connell Farm, located five kilometers southeast of Chloe's pear orchard. The man who stepped out of the driver's seat was none other than the heavy-set man himself: Harry, the Rainmaker.
His black suit fit him surprisingly well, and his tie was knotted as tightly as if it were trying to choke him, yet he didn't seem bothered in the slightest. He walked with a leisurely gait, a black briefcase in one hand.
The main gate of the pistachio farm was humbler than expected—just two wooden posts and a rusted iron gate. However, the endless rows of pistachio trees stretching out behind it made it clear that this was no small, local hobby farm.
Someone emerged from a small office container next to the gate. A man wearing a cap and sunglasses scanned Harry from head to toe.
"What are you looking for?"
Harry wiped his forehead with a handkerchief and slowly pulled out a business card, offering it to the man.
"I'm Howard Montis. Feel free to call me Harry."
The man looked down at the card, his lips moving as he read it silently.
Attorney at Law... Water Rights & Agricultural... Disputes.
The man looked up.
"We don't need a lawyer."
Just then, the container door opened again.
"Who is it, Doyle?"
Jack O'Connell, the owner of the pistachio farm, appeared. His face was gaunt, and deep dark circles hung under his eyes—likely the result of being caught in a class-action lawsuit for months. But his tone remained as abrasive as ever.
"Another lawyer for the plaintiffs? Which farm are you from? Is there anything left to argue about? If you have something to say, don't come to the farm yourself—talk to our lawyers, would you?"
Harry tilted his head slightly.
"Are you Mr. Jack O'Connell?"
"Yeah, that's me. What of it?"
"I have nothing to do with the class-action plaintiffs."
Jack's brow furrowed for a moment.
"...Then what? Another lawsuit?"
"I didn't come here to create a new lawsuit. You already have enough, don't you?"
Jack scowled at the strangely barbed remark.
"Then what is it?"
Harry glanced at his watch and said, "It's a bit awkward out here. Let's talk inside. I'd rather not have everyone here listening to what I have to say."
Jack looked around. In the distance, a truck driver and two workers were peeking in their direction. He cursed under his breath and gestured.
"Damn it. Come on in."
The inside of the container office was thick with the smell of paper and dust. Stacks of farm maps and water rights documents cluttered the old desk, and a pile of official notices sat in the corner.
"Have a seat," Jack offered, but Harry remained standing. Instead, he placed his briefcase on the desk and unzipped it. He pulled out items one by one and lined them up neatly on the desk.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Jack leaned against the edge of the desk to look. The first was a soil analysis report, the second was a well pressure graph, and the third was a document bearing the official logo of the NSJWCD (North San Joaquin Water Conservation District).
"What... is this?"
Only then did Harry move to the sofa, letting his heavy frame sink into it. He explained calmly.
"First of all, my client is Chloe Harris. She owns a pear orchard near Lodi."
Jack's face hardened instantly. Ironically, it was the very farm that had been harmed by his own, yet he had been puzzled as to why they hadn't joined the current lawsuit.
"Hmph! I knew it... You acted like you weren't going to sue, but you were planning to stab me in the back, weren't you?"
Harry wiped the sweat from his brow and replied indifferently to the sarcasm.
"I don't think 'stabbing in the back' is the right term for my client. The source of all this misfortune started here at your farm, and my client is the victim."
"Enough. If you're going to spout that kind of nonsense, tell it to my lawyer."
"Even if I talk to your lawyer, aren't you the one making the important decisions, Jack? I came here personally because I didn't want to have to come back and repeat myself."
"...What is that supposed to mean?"
Harry draped one arm over the back of the worn sofa.
"Southeast of your farm, at a 70-acre pear orchard about five miles away, the salinity levels in the soil at both 30cm and 80cm depths have been skyrocketing for the past month. The water level in the well hasn't changed, but the soil salinity has."
Jack flinched, but quickly tried to act nonchalant.
"So what do you want me to do about it?"
"My client really didn't intend to join the lawsuit. But since muddy water is coming out of the wells and the soil salinity is spiking, she sent me here because she wants this problem resolved quickly."
"So I told you, talk to my lawyer! You're clearly planning to sue anyway. If so, just get in line with the other farms. There are already seven plaintiffs; what difference does one more make?"
Harry's expression hardened. When the heavy-set man with the narrow eyes turned serious, the atmosphere in the room shifted.
"You seem to be under a misunderstanding. I didn't come here to ask for your help. If you want to bring your lawyer, go ahead and call them. I'm just doing my job on behalf of my client."
"......"
"Let's continue. I know that O'Connell Farm is currently embroiled in a lawsuit and ongoing legal disputes. But so far, there's no clear evidence. At best, there's just the claim that the water level in the wells has dropped. But what happens if clear evidence emerges here?"
As he said this, Harry pulled a small glass vial, no bigger than his thumb, from his bag and set it on the table.
"This is the water that backflowed from your well and soaked my client's pear orchard. It's clear evidence that the water level dropped and muddy water backflowed. What happens if this gets into the hands of the opposing side that's targeting your farm? The defense argument you've been using in the class-action suit—that it's all due to 'drought'—will collapse instantly. It will be revealed that this isn't just accidental water shortage, but that your well's Reverse Pumping has disturbed the deep aquifer."
"......"
"In the eyes of the jury, your farm will look like a collective perpetrator that contaminated someone else's land while trying to extract water for itself. Naturally, Punitive Damages will be on the table. Don't you think the settlement would be at least three times the current class-action claim?"
Harry's words tightened around Jack's heart. Jack swallowed hard, staring at the vial on the table.
"Would you like to take a sip? You might taste a hint of salinity. Oh, and it's probably not good for your health, given the other nasty components in there."
"......"
"I'll say it again: I didn't come here to ask for your cooperation. Nor did I come to give you a warning. If I wanted to do that, I would have gone to your lawyer, as you suggested."
"Then what do you want?"
Harry curled one corner of his mouth into a smirk.
"A proposal."
Jack bit his lip. He knew this was a lawyer's tactic to force a settlement before the trial, but he couldn't ignore it. The weapon Harry held was simply too powerful. He was in a position where he had no choice but to be hit, even knowing it was coming.
Jack let out a long sigh, then asked with a glint in his eyes, "Are you demanding a settlement? *Whew*... how much do you want?"
Jack's expression as he asked about the amount wasn't strangely dark. He realized that, perhaps, this settlement might not be such a bad opportunity for him. If he could reach a settlement with this annoying lawyer, all this evidence would disappear.
"As expected, you're a reasonable man."
"Things that can be handled simply should be handled simply."
"True. However, we are looking for a different kind of outcome, and I'm not sure if it's possible."
Jack's brow furrowed for a moment.
"What does that mean?"
"We don't want money."
"Then?"
"Water."
The single word changed the air in the room.
"......Water?"
Harry nodded.
"Your farm's main well. The one registered as WS-3, 620 feet deep (about 188m). I understand the permitted annual pumping volume is approximately 300 acre-feet. We want a portion of those rights."
"Ha, hahahaha!"
Jack couldn't help but burst into laughter at the absurdity. If they had asked for a large sum of money, they could have haggled over the price, but asking for water rights was completely unacceptable.
After laughing until he was out of breath, Jack's expression changed instantly.
"That's insane. Water rights are tied to the land owner. It's not that simple."
Harry didn't even blink.
"That's why I'm here. If the situation were simple, I would have already submitted the evidence to the court."
Harry looked straight at Jack.
"We don't want the ownership of the well itself, but a Perpetual Pumping Easement."
Jack gasped at the shocking term, but Harry continued without missing a beat.
"It means our farm gets the priority usage rights for at least 51% of the annual pumping volume extracted from this well. Your farm will continue to bear the costs of maintenance, repairs, and equipment."
Jack couldn't take it anymore and jumped to his feet.
"You're crazy! The land is mine, and you want more than half the water?"
Harry shrugged.
"Then feel free to ignore me. In that case, I'll take this evidence directly to the class-action plaintiffs' lawyer and negotiate for a cut of the settlement. Or, I'll file a motion to intervene and make my client the eighth plaintiff. We'll get in line with the rest of them and fight over the compensation percentage."
"......"
"If you don't like it, so be it."
Harry shook his head and began to rise from his seat, but Jack spoke up hurriedly.
"I need time."
"I can't give you much. I don't have much time before I have to join the lawsuit. How about... two days?"
"Only..."
Jack started to snap at Harry for giving him only two days, but he regained his composure under Harry's cold gaze.
"You're only giving me two days?"
"Two days is plenty of time to consult with your lawyer, isn't it?"
"Does it... does it have to be water?"
"Mr. Jack O'Connell, there's a saying in the wine industry: you can sell the wine, but you don't sell the land. But in farming, that changes slightly. You can sell the crops, but you don't sell the land and the water. Money disappears, but the rights to water do not."
"Then if... if I agree to the settlement?"
Harry's lips curled up at the response he had been expecting. He held up his index finger.
"First, my client will not participate in the class-action lawsuit. Second, all the evidence we have regarding backflow, salinity, and groundwater disturbance will not be submitted to the court. Finally, third, if a request for cooperation comes from the NSJWCD investigation, we will limit our response to the position that 'no conclusion can be reached.'"
Jack clutched his head with his hands.
"Damn it... 51% is... too much. Lower it to 30. No, 25... I could consider that."
Harry shook his head.
"I can't give you an answer on that right now. You bring your answer at this time, exactly two days from now. I'll give you my client's answer then."
"......"
"Jack, a good settlement is one where both sides lose a little and both sides protect something decisive. You're protecting your farm instead of money. We're getting water instead of money."
As Harry walked out of the office, Jack called out from behind him.
"Who... who do you work for?"
"I don't belong to any firm. Though, some people on the outside call me by a certain name: the Rainmaker. Feel free to call me Harry."
Harry flashed a broad smile and squeezed his way out of the narrow container office door.
"That pig of a bastard..."