Our Ballots Set New Terms For The Company's Sale

The buyer's new offer cut $300,000 from the price. It called the testing staff a matter for future business judgment.

Leena read that phrase aloud at our next meeting.

Ellis looked at his hands.

"That's six empty lockers with more words around them."

We had other choices. Ruth had shared the cash forecast under the court's rules. Sounding Line had enough money to keep operating for at least nine months without a sale, if the current orders held.

Waiting carried risk. It was still a choice.

At home, my own bills had become a stack held under a clean soup bowl. The outside drafting money had covered groceries. I wanted the sale done so I could stop thinking about every gallon of gas.

I told Sora that before the meeting.

"Good reason to put the choices on paper," she said. "Then we all get to see what we're buying with our patience."

I made sure Ben heard that part.

"I'm listening," he said. "Keep going."

The trustees hired an independent adviser to check the price and the share terms. Her $1,800 fee came from the trust's expense fund. She reviewed the order book and the buyer's figures before speaking to members.

She said a sale could help us buy a new pressure chamber. She also said we did not have to accept a rushed discount to cure a problem the two deal men had caused.

We sent back written conditions.

The six testing jobs had to stay in Hilo for at least three years. Testing would have its own budget and the power to stop a shipment that failed a check. No manager could sign that power away in a private side letter.

The workshop would keep its space and tools for at least five years. Personal tools had to be listed and protected.

Employees covered by those promises would have a direct right to enforce them. A quarterly report would go to the trust. Any later buyer had to assume the duties.

The deal took two more weeks.

North Reach argued over each promise. Our side argued over the price. Ruth refused to let either side use my job offer as part of the bargain.

In the end, the price returned to $8.4 million, with a different share plan.

North Reach would buy the common shares and half the trust's preferred shares. The trust would keep the other half, with the same class approval right. Members would receive cash based on their interests and keep a stake through the trust.

The adviser checked the new figures and explained the risks. Keeping shares meant future value could rise or fall. Keeping the vote meant we still had a say in a later sale.

The trust received no day-to-day control of the shop. Managers would still set shifts and bid for orders. Our retained right covered the major transactions named in the articles. I wanted everyone to understand both its strength and its limits.

Nobody called it free money.

North Reach also committed $210,000 for chamber repairs, test tools, and staff training. Its own review had found that losing the Hilo test team would delay several orders. Keeping their skills had a price the buyer could count.

Leena marked every promise against a numbered page.

"If it isn't in the final agreement," she told us, "don't vote as if it is."

I sat out while the trustees reviewed my separate return agreement. My firing would be withdrawn. My service and benefits would stay unbroken.

Six weeks of missed wages came to $5,400. I had earned $900 doing outside drafting, so the back-pay amount was $4,500 before normal deductions. The company would also repay $630 I had spent to bridge my health coverage.

I accepted my old salary while an outside reviewer checked pay across the shop.

Then I returned to the member meeting as their representative, with those terms fully disclosed.

Sora handed out ballots. Each one offered yes or no on the exact final sale papers. The five members who could not attend received the same packet and returned signed ballots by the deadline.

I voted yes.

Twenty-five others did too. Three voted no.

Sora entered twenty-six to three in the minutes. The trustees confirmed the count. I signed the class consent on the line Quinton had once marked not required.

My hand did not shake.

The consent could take effect only with those exact agreements, the court's approval to lift the pause, and the required closing payments. A changed deal would need a new vote.

I put no boat on that page. It was an original record, meant to stay flat.

Monday morning, Ruth met me at the shop. The crate of bolts was gone from my desk. My chair had a fresh pad, but the old nick in its arm was still there.

Ellis stood in the test-room doorway.

"I've got a housing that needs a drawing fix," he said.

"What's wrong?"

"The seal seat. Come look before you touch the file."

I had missed being asked to look.

Ruth handed me an envelope before I could follow him.

"From Quinton's lawyer," she said. "He signed the settlement."