GOOD FENCES

There were no more American-flag pinwheels in town; Harlan Mayfield had bought them all.

- Terena Elizabeth Bell

Not because he was particularly patriotic, but because they were on sale after Fourth of July and he needed them to drive away the moles.

The week prior, the moles had entered his backyard from the easterly side, over by Leon Shanklin’s place, and had since begun to meander north, leaving long slow tracks across the lawn. Harlan’s yard had never been the finest, despite his multiple attempts to seed it, even bringing in a professional at one point, if professional meant his wife’s third cousin once removed. The young man had been trying to start his own business and had bought the necessary equipment, had told Harlan, Don’t worry, I’ll do you right, but in the months that followed, the verdant Harlan’d hoped for did not arise, the result was excessively spotty, the cousin saying it takes time, that sometimes even the finest of seeds won’t do.

So Harlan said to H on the boy then told his wife to get their money back, but Ethyl said, Now Harlan, and he calmed down just enough to let the matter go.

This too went for his relationship with Leon, which had always been contentious at best, tempered by Ethyl’s attempts to calm Harlan down, aligned with those of Leon’s wife, who worked on her husband as well—at least in the early days of living next door to one another.