“They don’t care about the white farmhouse or the red barn.

It’s just math to them.”

“It’s just math to Tom, too,” Luke said.

We had saved for four straight years.

We skipped our vacations, bought three-dollar jeans from church sales, and squeezed out every single dime.

Now our huge war chest was only a down payment, and our only weapon was a little piece of yellow paper.

“Who do you think will show up tomorrow?” I asked.

“Half the county,” Luke said.