“Because of the plows,” she had said. “There are two houses down there, one of them inhabited in winter, and besides, in mud season it’s hard going. They’ll pour gravel on those deep ruts and get it packed down hard.”

It had taken more than a week before Joel became aware of how much feeling coursed along just under the surface in the village, how many people barely greeted each other, what grudges remained generation after generation. Ed had been a boy when his father had had the fight with Nick’s father—now he was past middle age. Must it go on?

For a second Joel thought the big grader might not be making the turn into their road. If only Ed would move on! But no, in another minute he saw the huge yellow beast come trundling along, and Ed sitting in the high seat, towering there, a cigar in his mouth. It was strange how, on the machine, Ed had become suddenly threatening. The very sound grated as he swung along by the shining pond.

“Nick!” Joel called, suddenly worried. “Nick, where are you?”

“Nick around here?” Ed leaned out to ask, a little anxiously—or did Joel imagine that?

“Yes, he’s been picking mayflowers,” and Joel waved an arm in the general direction where Nick had disappeared.

Now Joel could see that the grader was being followed by a bulldozer with a big shovel attached, and this was driven by a stubby, grizzled man with very blue eyes and red cheeks, who gave him a cheerful wave.

“Might as well get going,” Ed called to the man. “You can start there where all the beer cans are. Clean it up. Take off about two feet. Plow got stuck there twice last year, where it dips down. See what I mean?”

The bulldozer was backed off and turned while Joel watched uneasily and kept an eye out for Nick. Where in hell had he gone anyway?

The grader was now stationary, and he went up to speak to Ed.

“You’re not going to tear up that bank there, are you?” he asked. “I mean, Nick says it’s a great place for wild flowers … I mean,” he bumbled, getting the cold stare from Ed. “After all, there aren’t so many places left.”

Ed shifted the cigar to the other side of his mouth and spat.

“My job is to keep the roads open, fella.”

“I know, but …”

Ed now opened the door of his little tower and climbed out clumsily. “Get going!” he shouted at the man on the bulldozer. “We haven’t got all day!”

But just as the bulldozer was pulled gingerly up into position and the big shovel lowered like a grunting, unwilling animal, Nick came out of the woods. Instinctively Joel ran to his side.

“Oh, there you are, Nick.”

“Get out of the way!”