She stood alone outside under the long portal that edged one side of the old building. The wind was howling through the long stretch of power lines up the mesa. Alva had given the power company an easement across Cozy Y figuring it was just for his land. He didn’t know they’d use it for huge towers and high-voltage lines that make your ears buzz when you stand under them.
A former friend was a "planner" with the power company and worked on impact assessments. Mostly she got paid to mollify people who showed up at the public meetings worried about how the towers and lines would look. Or about whether electromagnetic radiation was bad for you - which was met with the technical equivalent of “pshaw” And "prove it."
Nobody thought to ask if lines and towers would moan like sad ghosts.
Alva also assumed that same easement was wide enough for the road. He didn’t think about the steepness of the mesa’s edge and when his engineer pointed it out he got mad and fired him. His lawyer was as clueless as he was about topography and engineering. That’s why Sammy had to get another easement. He made sure this one’s wide enough for six lanes.