Nell and Aunt Gingy worked together to pull the calf out of the cow's body. With a wet squelch, accompanied by placenta and amniotic fluid, it all landed with a splash on the straw.
Aunt Gingy quickly checked the calf's rear and, upon seeing it was a heifer, was genuinely delighted. When it comes to dairy cows, it's not really about utilitarian motives—it's just a fact that only female cows can produce milk.
In the future, people would often say that most, if not all, female cows never even see an adult male in their lifetime. One bull is enough for every 800 cows. All reproduction is handled artificially—no need for cows to pair off and "jog together."
If the newborn is female, she stays with the mother and is raised to become a dairy cow on the farm. If male, he's typically slaughtered. The better ones have their hides and meat fully used—either eaten or turned into leather.
The less fortunate ones might be ground up immediately into feed and recycled into the livestock system. One of the causes of mad cow disease, after all, comes from this kind of practice.
Once the calf hit the ground, the mother cow's maternal instinct kicked in. She struggled to her feet and began licking the mucus off her calf, then ate the placenta. The calf quickly managed to stand and found its way to nurse from the mother's belly.
Frederick, who had come to Nell's house with Wilkie, was the heir to a hotel business, but his family had once been in farming too. In those days, if you weren't self-sufficient in West Virginia, you couldn't survive. Sensibly, he brought a big basin of hot water to help Nell and Aunt Gingy wash up.
"Young Master Schaeffer?" Aunt Gingy had been focused entirely on the cow. When she saw Frederick with the water, she finally noticed him.
"Hmm?"
Nell was washing his hands and looked toward the door—only to see Wilkie standing there, observing him with a scrutinizing gaze as if assessing the man who had just delivered a calf.
It was the dead of winter—why wasn't Wilkie in cozy New York? What was he doing in Brook, even showing up at Nell's house? Nell hurried to finish washing and took off his large apron, which had been splattered with various fluids and needed cleaning.
Even after a sniff, Nell thought it still stank a bit. Probably needed soap and a proper shower—otherwise, it would linger.
"Nell." Surprisingly, Wilkie stepped forward to shake Nell's hand once he was done.
Nell hesitated, unsure if he should extend his smelly hand, but Wilkie didn't mind. He treated Nell like a younger brother and grasped it warmly.
"What brings you from good ol' New York to our little mountain town?" Nell asked. He didn't expect a famous lawyer and manager like Wilkie to "stoop" to visit like this.
No wonder the man was chosen by the Republicans to challenge Roosevelt later on. Though he lost, his ability to win over hearts within the party was evidently remarkable.
"What, I can't visit a friend?" Wilkie laughed heartily and threw an arm around Nell.
Then came the usual round of introductions. Wilkie greeted Nell's family warmly and apologized for imposing on them. Aunt Gingy, upon learning that he was Nell's (and by extension, Chang Gong's) close friend, assured him it was no trouble. She handed the calf over to Campbell and went inside to make coffee for the three men.
Add some fresh milk and sugar, stir it up—and voilà, a latte.
They sat indoors, and Nell fetched firewood to light the fireplace—a rare treat. Normally, they just used the coal stove. But today was special with guests.
Wilkie, holding his cup of coffee, looked around the house. It was a typical, modest American farmhouse. Compared to the house in Forrest Gump, Nell's home was smaller, but it had a brick-and-mortar structure—necessary in West Virginia winters, where wooden houses aren't suited for fireplaces.
The first floor was simple—kitchen and dining room combined, with the living room essentially merged with the dining area for efficient heating from the fireplace. Aunt Gingy's bedroom was off to the side.
Upstairs, there were four rooms—one each for Nell, Debbie, and Patrick, and one spare room, now perfect for Wilkie's stay.
"After leaving Chicago, I thought you'd go off to college. Didn't expect you to quietly pull off something so major," Wilkie said, pulling out a copy of The New York Times.
Though it didn't show Nell's picture, it dedicated plenty of space to Republican lawmakers and governors championing the people's cause. Still, Nell's name did appear.
"I haven't decided on a school yet," Nell replied after changing into clean clothes and sitting down. "Besides, times are tough. I wanted to do something meaningful."
"Did you hear about the midterm results?"
"Republicans won big, still hold both chambers."
"Hmm… True, but the Democrats made a huge comeback—gained many seats." Wilkie, a seasoned Republican, was concerned about the party's growing complacency.
"Should you really be asking a mere farmer like me?" Nell smiled and sipped his coffee, half-deflecting.
"I'm just curious—how did you motivate hundreds of thousands to register and ensure they voted?" Wilkie asked the real question on his mind.
"No trick—just the will of the people."
Nell stood up and checked a thermometer. Indoors, thanks to the fireplace, it was about 20°C. But outside? Just a couple of degrees above freezing. In such bitter cold, farmers without cash couldn't afford coal for heating—life would be harsh.
In truth, it didn't have to be Nell. Any halfway decent politician who genuinely cared for the people could win enormous support just by "letting a few coins fall through their fingers."
Unfortunately, the political elite often turned a blind eye—mainly because most Irish farmers were illiterate and didn't vote. Those who can't vote may as well not exist.
To put it even more bluntly: the Republican Party had been in power too long. It had grown aloof, representing mostly urban capitalists and white-collar workers, while ignoring suburban and rural populations.
With rigid seniority systems in place, newcomers without political capital had little chance to rise. As a result, the Republican leadership had become increasingly out of touch with the realities of society.
"If things don't change soon, the Republicans will lose the presidency in the next election!"