Ethan had tested it two years earlier.
It still ran well.
Ryan saw Ethan staring at it.
“You're looking at the combine engine.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ethan pointed toward the International.
“What if we put that engine into the 986?”
Ryan laughed.
Then he realized Ethan was serious.
“No.”
“The frame is usable.”
“No.”
“The transmission is good.”
“Ethan.”
“The hydraulics can be rebuilt.”
Ryan crossed his arms.
“That engine was designed for a combine.”
“It was designed to make power.”
“The mounts won't line up.”
“We build new mounts.”
“The bell housing won't match.”
“We make an adapter plate.”
“The cooling system is different.”
“We change it.”
“The hood won't fit.”
“We modify the hood.”
Ryan stared at him.
“And if we spend three weeks building something that tears itself apart the first time we pull a planter?”
“Then we wasted three weeks.”
Ryan looked toward the fields.
Planting was coming.
They had few options.
He sighed.
“It would be cheaper than forty-two thousand.”
“Exactly.”
Another silence.
Ryan finally nodded.
“When do we start?”
Ethan took off his jacket.
“Now.”
Building Old Harold
The workshop lights came on before sunrise the next morning.
Removing the dead engine took most of the day.
Some bolts had not moved in decades.
Others broke immediately.
By noon, the old engine hung from the hoist.
The tractor frame looked strangely empty.
Then Ethan began measuring.
The combine engine was longer.
The crankshaft sat at a different height.
The mounting pattern was completely different.
Nothing fit.
So they made it fit.
Ethan built a cardboard template for the adapter plate.
Ryan transferred it onto thick steel.
They cut it.
Drilled it.
Measured again.
Then lifted it into position.
The first attempt failed.
The second was close.
The third time, the shaft slid into place.
Ryan stepped backward.
“That shouldn't have worked.”
Ethan smiled.
“It hasn't worked yet.”
They built reinforced engine mounts.
They installed the combine radiator.
They rerouted fuel lines.
They modified the throttle linkage.
They rebuilt the hydraulic system.
They designed a bracket for the power-steering pump.
Every day brought another problem.
Every problem required another solution.
Sometimes they worked until midnight.
Their mother, Elaine, brought sandwiches into the workshop.
One evening she looked at the strange machine taking shape.
“Your father would either be proud or furious.”
Ryan laughed.
“Probably both.”
Elaine looked at the tractor.
“What are you going to call it?”
Ethan shrugged.
“It doesn't need a name.”
Elaine shook her head.
“Everything your father built had a name.”
Ryan looked at the faded red tractor.
“We'll name it when it starts.”
The First Roar
Nine days after the project began, the tractor was ready for its first start.
Ethan climbed into the cab.
Ryan stood beside the open hood holding a fire extinguisher.
“You really think that's necessary?” Ethan asked.