My Neighbors Digged A Two-Acre Lake In My Land While I Was Out Of State, Then They Told Me That Their Contractor Said It Was Theirs, And That Was The Day I Learned How Expensive Kara Arrogance Can Be

When I was twelve, my grandfather caught me sitting on that fence throwing stones at a stump on the other side.

“You don’t feel on a limit, Danny,” he said.

I went down, thinking I had damaged something. “I have left no tender.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

He approached, laying a boot on the lower stones and looked south towards the neighboring grass. “A limit is a promise. He tells his neighbor where his responsibility ends and he starts his. You respect his side, he respects yours, and everyone sleeps better.”

Then he looked at me with those pale gray eyes that always seemed to know when I was just half listening.

“The earth is the only thing they’re not doing more,” he said. “You take care of that, it will take care of you. But if you let someone move the line once, they will come back with a bigger shovel.”