Dante followed his navigator to find the Elderwood Conservancy. It was strange how he had grown up on this island and never known a conservancy existed there. An understated green gate stood as the only deterrent to entering the dirt path leading to the property. Dante started to put his car in park so he could enter, but a guard appeared from the small office near the gate. He opened the gate with a nod, not asking Dante any questions.
Dante frowned and thanked the man as he drove down the straight dirt road. Five minutes later, he found two roads branching on different sides. The one on the right side had thicker bushes and looked less used. The road on the left had a single sign saying ‘main office’. Dante turned his black SUV toward the main office.
Ten minutes later, he sat staring at the building housing the conservancy in pleasant surprise. It was a fortress, complete with four towers and a courtyard. Fifteenth century, ottoman architecture, Dante grinned. The walls looked well-maintained. The guardians of the Elderwood Conservancy took their job seriously. The only blight on the authentic building was the front entrance. It was very modern, with glass walls showing off a reception hall.
Dante reached for the bag holding his soil samples and came out of the car. He hurried to the entrance eager to see what the inside looked like. Dante entered, heading to the receptionist’s desk. She smiled in welcome, but before he could reach her, a man who looked in his late twenties came into the reception hall from a corridor beyond.
“Welcome to Elderwood. I’m Tom King.”
“Dante Arturo.”
“We rarely get visitors who aren’t planned,” Tom said. “The gatekeeper alerted us that you were on your way. How may I help you?”
Dante held up the bag with his sample soils.
“Mr. King, I’m here to request assistance. Our vineyard on the other side of the island is facing an invasion of corrupted soil. We cannot find the cause. Professor Roberto heard about our dilemma and sent me to your conservancy,” Dante said. “He says you have researchers who test soil on the island.”
“Yes, we do,” Tom said, his interest growing. “Are you saying you have a vineyard here in Aretias?”
“Yes, Arturo Vineyards. They are a family enterprise,” Dante said with a proud smile. “My mother looks after them. I’m a World History professor based in Istanbul. I met Professor Roberto at Koc University. He referred me to your organization.”
“Roberto is a good man,” Tom said. “He is a longtime friend of Elderwood. Yesterday, he gave me a call and told me a desperate colleague of his would stop by. He never told me your name. We would have been more ready. This is very interesting,” Tom pointed to the bag Dante was holding. “May I take this from you?”
“Yes.” Dante handed Tom the bag with the soil samples. “How long will it take to discover what is wrong with the soil?”
“I can only tell you once our lab technician gets a good look,” Tom said. “We should have an answer for you by tomorrow morning.”
Dante reached for his wallet and found his card. He handed it to Tom.
“You can call me at any time,” Dante said. “Our vineyard is eager to solve the problem. The rot is growing in our olive grove and we’re worried it will find its way to the vines. The loss would be unimaginable. I would also like to know if it is reversible. I do not want to lose our old olive trees.”
“We’ll help however we can,” Tom said.
Dante nodded and looked to the corridor beyond the receptionist, trying to catch a glimpse of the interior of the main fortress building.
“Uh,” Dante started. “Would it be possible to step into the courtyard? I mean—would it be okay to see the fortress? Am I being rude?”
Tom chuckled.
“Don’t worry. You’re not the first to ask. I’m sorry I can’t let you go in though. The entrances into the courtyard are under construction,” Tom said. “It is a necessary effort. The building is very old and you’ve come when we’re undertaking serious restoration efforts.”
“Wow, I would love to be part of such a project,” Dante said, excited by the prospect. “I have students who would love a visit to this place. Is it possible to arrange a tour, even during the restoration process? I think it would be educational.”
“We have never thought of doing it, but I’m sure it is possible. I would have to make arrangements with the conservancy’s staff,” Tom said. “I’ll talk it over with everyone here and let you know what we decide when I call about the soil samples.”
“Perfect,” Dante said. “I can’t believe I’m only discovering this place now.”
“We are found at the right time,” Tom replied.
What a strange way to word it, Dante thought. His phone beeped and he reached for it, finding a message from his overworked TA.
“I’m running late for a lecture. I have to go,” Dante said with a sigh. “Mr. King, I’m really interested in a tour of your fortress. I hope your response is positive. Thank you again for agreeing to check on our soil samples. The vineyard will handle the invoices if you sent them to us. The email address is on the card I’ve given you.”
“I’ll make sure to give you a call tomorrow,” Tom said.
Dante thanked Tom again and left the building, rushing to his car. He opened the driver’s door and stopped when he felt a stifling force in the woods closest to the building. He turned and looked at the forest with a frown. The powerful force retreated and he let out a soft sigh, feeling relieved. He saw nothing in the woods, no person standing in the shadows. He frowned. Maybe he was imagining things. Shaking his head, he got in his car and drove out of the conservancy.
*~*~*~*
“Babu, Dante has been at the conservancy,” Tom reported, staring at the bag filled with soil sample containers.
“What does he want?”
“A soil analysis,” Tom said. “He says his family has a vineyard on our island Aretias. It is called Arturo Vineyards. I can’t believe he was so close to us. I’ve not heard of them.”
“He is very close…”
Tom waited, as his boss’s voice trailed off in thought.
“It feels like there is something I have not accounted for. Start the analysis right away. Do it yourself, Tom. Let me know what the report says when you finish.”
“I’ll get it done,” Tom said. “Also, he wants a tour of the fortress. I’m guessing it’s the archeologist in him making the request. He wants to bring a few students with him.”
“He has a lot of wants. Uncle Amu will have more to say about the tour. I don’t care.”
“Amu Ryuzo has long left you to run us all,” Tom said.
“He has?” A lazy sigh. “I suppose he has. Then, Tom, it’s up to you. You decide.”
The call ended.
Tom was left standing in the reception hall staring at the black bag from Dante Arturo filled with soil samples. It felt like the start of another great strife was imminent.
*~*~*~*
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