Good Fences

by Boyd Craven III

  Maybe he could buy front row seats to the target practice today if the weather held out.

  I fired up the saw and started with the lower branches I could reach. I pulled on heavy leather gloves and cut them into smaller chunks before moving the quad and getting ready to do the main trunk and the limbs that were too high for me to reach. I was almost ready to pull the starting cord on the Stihl when I heard George call out.

  “Hey!” he called angrily from the other side of the fence.

  “Hey George,” I said, putting the saw down.

  “What are you doing? Do you know what time it is?”

  I smiled inwardly, checking off one goal for the day.

  “Well, it looks like it’s between seven or eight o’clock judging by the sun, not wearing a watch. Safety first you know.”

  I smiled sweetly at him.

  “It’s seven thirty in the morning. You woke me up.”

  “I’m sorry George, I’ve been up since 4:30, I figured waiting three hours so you could sleep in was neighborly of me, wasn’t it?”

  “You can’t cut down this tree,” George said, seething in anger.

  “Sure I can. My side of the fence.”

  George ground his teeth together and I noticed that he was in a fuzzy blue bathrobe and a pair of slip on sketchers. His legs were bare under the robe and his hair was flying all over, no longer in a poised coif he was known for.

  “Half of it is on my side, and I don’t want to see the trailer park you’re putting in back there.”

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot to thank you for that. The police checked everything out and they agreed that it’s a camper and I can park one of those wherever I want. It’s agricultural land here still and, unless you try to rezone me, for which I can get an exemption, you’ve got no leg to stand on.”

  “The HOA policy about trees states—“

  “George, I’m not part of your home owner’s association. This is my family’s home and land. We’ve lived and farmed here for 3 generations,” I said, leaving out the part about how I had been led to come home because of his son, “and you built a subdivision next to a farm. I’m sorry, but farmers’ farm and you are complaining about farm stuff. So, too bad George.” I said, firing up the chainsaw.

  I made two or three small cuts to make a wedge, then started to cut from the back side of the trunk. I got most of the way through when I heard the snapping and popping. I killed the saw once I’d pulled it free and backed off in case the base of the trunk kicked back at a bad angle. The tree fell exactly where I wanted it to and I swear I felt the ground shake a little. I heard a ton of cussing and swearing and smiled when I looked over at George.

  “This is unacceptable! I’m going to call the police!” He shook his fist at me through the fence. I noticed his free hand was on the fourth wire, the first string of barbed. Too bad he was one too high, or it might have been funny.

  “Go ahead. I don’t need a permit to drop a tree on my land, nor do I need your permission, George. You don’t own everything around here. For all your money and power you’ve been trying to get me to change ever since you put that house in. Why? Why here, why by me?”

  I was genuinely curious about it, and since he seemed to be a captive audience…

  “Because the land was cheap, because it was zoned perfectly. I didn’t know your family farm was here, when I first looked at building this goddamn subdivision, you weren’t even living there. You and Cathy were living in a condo in town and…” he trailed off.

  “Yes, Cathy and I were living uptown in a condo. Once she died, I never went back there. I couldn’t. Too many memories, but you wouldn’t care, would you? You screwed me every chance you got and you’re trying to do it all over again.” My voice was growing loud, and I heard a couple of doors open as people peeked out.

  Great, I was attracting even more attention. I thought it’d be fun to piss off George, but all I was doing was getting angry myself. That wasn’t what I’d intended.

  “Listen,” I said quieter, “There isn’t much you can do about any of this. Why don’t you just be a good neighbor and leave me the hell alone? Besides, you’re standing on my property. I’d like you to step back.”

  He looked at me in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “See those stakes with the white paint on them? Those are my property boundaries. I left a three foot buffer in my electric fence so I can weed whip the back side so the weeds don’t short out the…”

  Instead of backing up, George walked forward, red in the face. He grabbed the wire and stuck a meaty hand through, a finger already pointing in my face. What he did differently that time, however, was grab the third wire, the smooth wire. The electrical wire. He jerked his hand in shock and tried to pull back through the barbed wire, digging a long furrow in his arm that immediately started to bleed. He cursed again, shaking his arm around.

  “Sorry George, but if you weren’t messing with my fence and trespassing, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I asked you to back up, but I guess your son got his common sense from you, huh?” I asked, needling him.

  I know it was a horrible thing to say, to take a poke at his kid like that, but he needed to understand the world didn’t revolve around him. I pulled the starting cord on the Stihl and cut the willow stump down some more. I’d come back in a couple of days and drill deep holes and fill them with kerosene before lighting it, hopefully killing the tenacious tree. Otherwise I’d be back out in a couple years redoing things as it grew back from a sucker.

  By the time I made my last cut on the stump George was gone, but two neighbors north of him were outside and waiting at the fence line.

  “Mister, it’s really kind of early for that,” a young man in a suit and tie said.

  “I’ve been up for a few hours now,” I said, “I waited to do this but I don’t want to wait until it gets hot around lunchtime.”

  The man considered that thoughtfully, “I suppose I see your point. Is that why you’re always up and about so early?”

  “Well, yeah, I mean… this is a farm so there’s always a ton of stuff to do and I try to get the worst of it done when the heat isn’t so bad.”

  “I’m a lawyer, we tend to stay indoors… I was already up this morning, going over a brief for Monday. It didn’t wake me up, but it did my wife. She wanted to come out here herself…”

  “Sorry about that, this is really the last big project next to the subdivision’s side of the fence for the season. The only other noise you’re likely to hear is when I use the rifle range out back.”

  “Rifle Range? I thought you were a fireworks guy. You shoot guns here?” The man looked scared.

  “Well yeah, and I hunt with them, use my bow and arrows… you know?” I said, not understand how a guy from Michigan seemed horrified.

  “There’s really no need to hunt for meat if you’re already raising it, is there?” he asked, staying clear of the fence. Good, he must have learned by George’s example.

  “It adds variety, different health considerations,” I said not wanting to add that it was also a sport; some people don’t get that part.

  “I just don’t think anybody should ever need guns. I’m going to check into the zoning, you shouldn’t be shooting this close to the houses,” the lawyer said, a bit perturbed.

  “Sorry you feel that way, but the law says 300 feet from any occupied dwelling. I am over 600 feet away from them so there’s nothing I’m doing that’s illegal. I’ve even had the cops come out and verify the legality of it,” I said, not mentioning that the cops had been called on me, not that I invited them.

  “Well, zoning and laws can change,” he said, before turning and walking towards his house.

  “Good luck with that,” I called after him.

  “Hey Brian,” I heard a familiar voice call a ways off.

  I walked down the fence line and saw Lucy with little Spencer sitting on his place near her hip.

  “Hey Lucy, good morning.”

  �
�You had to go and poke the bear, didn’t you?” she asked, smiling.

  “Yeah, and I realized it wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be. I’m going to chop the rest of the limbs up and work on taking it to the wood pile later on today or tomorrow.”

  “What if it rains today?”

  “Well, I suppose we’ll still have a bit of a party, especially if you promise to make some pizzas like last time!” I grinned and Spencer grinned back at me, before Lucy smiled too.

  “Sounds good. I forgot to set my alarm, so your saw was a godsend. I’ve got to get the dough mixed so it’ll rise by noon.

  “Ok, but it doesn’t have to be ready by noon, that’s when folks are showing up.” I told her.

  “Looks like you’ve got company,” Lucy said, and I turned to see the shape of a cube van coming down my driveway.

  “Randy’s up early too. Hey, you’re welcome to come out whenever you want, you don’t have to wait until noon.”

  “We’ll see. Both Spence and I need a bath first. I’ll be over soon enough, Farmer Brian,” she gave me a warm smile.

  “Bye,” I said, my face already hurting from the stupid grin on my face.

  9

  The weatherman was only half wrong. Randy and Lucy came early, and everyone else showed up at noon, and we all set out to go shoot up some targets. I set up a line of steel targets for the regular guns, and a couple paper targets for the .50 cal. Ken and I got our guns zeroed in and were grinning like fools when Officer Ben Crabtree stopped in, bringing what looked like a genuine M16. He laid it out on the table and Randy and Ken talked with him about it nonstop.

  I sat back at the picnic bench as Ben started to shoot. He was pretty good, and he ran it with three shot bursts and then on full auto. Kristen and Lucy were smiling, and Spencer, who was wearing a spare set of ear protection I had from when I was a kid, was looking at everything and clapping and cheering. The kid was really into it, and the only thing that bothered him was the boom of the .50.

  We all traded and I got a chance to try out the M16, the trooper tried the .50 and then we switched again. The clouds were starting to darken and the wind picked up, so I packed up my stuff. We headed back to the house to put our guns up and get the pizzas started in the oven. We were headed in my front door when Liz pulled in with the twins and I walked into the house and put the TV on SpongeBob.

  Ben’s cell phone rang, and he laughed when he saw the caller ID. He answered it, and it was his Sargent calling in, to ask him to check on shots fired at the farm by Ben’s house. He told the Sarge that he was here, and had in fact been target shooting with friends. Said the range was safe and he’d take cell phone photos if proof was needed. The Sarge had nothing else to say so he hung up and that was it. George was neutered. We all joked and laughing about the incident and I told them about the tree earlier, and how I kind of felt bad he got cut up. They all agreed it was instant karma for George.

  None of us thought that George would have called both police departments, but the local cops showed up just as the sky let loose and thunder boomed, rattling the old storm window frames. I smiled and welcomed both of them inside, to get out of the rain. Immediately they saw my new buddy Ben Crabtree of the Michigan State Police and all of the hard sided gun cases lined up on one wall.

  “Kick your shoes off boys, come grab a plate,” Lucy said, starting to cut the first pizza that had come out of the oven, already switching it out to put the second one in.

  “I don’t know ma’am, we’re just here to see about—“

  “Is that pepperoni?” the younger cop asked.

  “Here you go hun,” Lucy almost pushed the plate into his hands.

  He looked at his partner, shrugged then kicked his shoes off and sat at the table. His first bite had him rolling his eyes up into the back of his head in pure cheesy pleasure. I can’t say I blame him, I was almost dying from anticipation and the smell was heavenly!

  “Oh my ghhwehsh. Thwis is wsoooo good,” he mush mouthed around the big bite.

  We all laughed and I went over to Lucy, putting my arms around her and pulling her to me in a hug. I needed it, and she didn’t resist at all, so she must have too. The older cop’s professionalism was put to the test, but he reluctantly kicked his shoes off and grabbed a plate from Ken as he handed slices out.

  “I don’t want to eat up all of—“ the younger one protested weakly as he finished his first slice and was offered another.

  “Oh don’t worry about that,” Lucy said, “I’ve got one more in the oven with two more to go in. I heard Randy’s girls were going to be here and I know my little monster has been asking for pizza all week. So eat up, and tell us what we can do for you today?”

  “Well, we got a phone call about shots fired, but it looks like you all were doing some target practice. Besides, the state boys already beat us here it looks like,” he said nodding to Ben, who was eating a slice himself.

  “Yeah, we fired off a couple thousand rounds until it looked like we were going to get rained out. I don’t know, maybe more?” I answered.

  “I’m guessing that nobody fired off a bazooka?” the older cop asked with a straight face, “or maybe pipe bombs?”

  We all looked at each other, and a pregnant silence ensued until we heard from the TV “bwhahahahahahahahahhahahahaha” as SpongeBob busted up laughing in an annoying voice. That set us all off laughing, and the cop who asked turned a little red in the face.

  “Look in that big pelican case there,” Ken said.

  “Naw, just tell me,” the younger guy replied from his seat at the table.

  “I got a Barrett .50, needed someplace to sight it in.”

  That did it, the two cops were suddenly all smiles and after they had finished two slices apiece they went out to the covered front porch so Ken could get it out and show it to them. I finally had a slice from the second pizza and sat down next to the twins. Spencer was sitting in the middle, leaning into Ashlyn… or was it Lindsey? He looked half asleep.

  “Looks like we may have a sleep casualty here. Want me to bring him over for a slice?” I asked Lucy.

  “No, if he’s hungry, he’ll tell me when he wakes up.” Lucy came over and sat on my leg, leaning back into me.

  I had to put my arm around her so she wouldn’t fall and we suffered through an entire episode where SpongeBob lost his identity, or name tag. Still, I was mildly amused and some of the humor seemed above the kid’s heads the same way that the old Loony Tunes did when I was a kid. Things seemed to be moving fast and I was a little worried. When Lucy and I hadn’t been spending time together lately, we’d been talking on the phone. It wasn’t much, but we both fell into a comfortable closeness that had never turned more intimate than a hug.

  “Awwww, look at em,” Kristen said and Lucy stood up quickly, a flush already coloring her cheeks.

  Kristen was looking at the twins with a now sleeping Spencer leaning into them.

  “Randy, your girls are stealing from the cradle,” I said over the back of the couch and both Kristen and Lucy slapped my shoulder.

  “Abuse, Police!” I said, but not too loud; I didn’t want to wake the little man up.

  * * *

  The cops left and we all got to talking. Lucy and Kristen were the only non-preppers in the group, but Randy’s wife Brenda was working on that. At some point, somebody produced a deck of cards and we paired off into Euchre teams and spent the entire afternoon and evening eating leftover pizza, playing cards and having fun. I couldn’t remember ever having a house full like this. A lot of new friendships were made, a lot more friendships got closer. As the kids got more food and the twins tried to teach Spencer how to play the board game ‘Life’, the grownups talked about scenarios why preppers prep.

  I admitted how ill-prepared I felt and how I thought things were a bit kooky at first, but lately it had been making more and more sense. I talked about my list and Randy popped up from his seat to run to his truck. The faraday cage! I told him to sit down, I had
no plans to go out in the rain until I had to, and that was mainly to check on Ruby girl.

  “What’s wrong with Miss Ruby?” Ashlynn asked, concern in her little voice.

  “Oh, she’s due to have some babies today or tomorrow. I’ve got her in the separate pen now.”

  The kids all started talking at once. “I want to go see!” “I want to go too!” “I like piggies!”

  We all shared a smile and, for the first time, the rain let up. It didn’t stop but it wasn’t pounding so hard. I know when God’s listening, because everyone turned to look at me smiling.

  “Ok, let’s go.”

  * * *

  Six pink piglets were rolling around in the hay near Ruby. I wasn’t sure if she was done or not, so I didn’t let anybody in or near her. I warned the kids that pigs could be dangerous if they got a mind to be. Instead, I let the twins throw apples to her as long as they were careful not to hit her or the babies. Ruby ignored them, which told me she was either just done having birth, or had one or two more.

  “Goat babies!” one of the twins yelled and the whole party moved over to the goat pen, where all the goats were standing together, some of the baby Nubians jumping on the backs of the adults to see the humans that came to play with them.

  Those guys took every offered apple and begged for more, causing such a ruckus I was worried it’d disturb Ruby. I finally convinced the twins to stop when I suggested that they could go and collect eggs from the hen house. It was one of their favorite things to do, and I should probably have asked Randy first, but he just nodded and shrugged his shoulders. They both darted in, alarming the chickens and making feathers fly, but they came out all smiles, holding half a dozen eggs each. I made sure everyone had water and we walked back to the house.

  It was one of the most memorable days I’d had, and I felt bad I hadn’t seen Frank. I thought I’d invited him, but my memory has been sucking lately. Maybe he just got busy and couldn’t make it.