“You know,” Margaret said, “you’ve become a bit of a folk legend.” “Mm,” Eli grunted. “People keep asking if you’re going to do it again next year.” “Do what? Grow corn?” She smiled. “Box people in again.” He shook his head. “I hope I never have to.
That wasn’t farming—that was babysitting adults.” They sat in companionable silence for a few more minutes. Somewhere in the distance, a cricket began chirping. “I’m glad we didn’t let them ruin it,” Margaret said softly. “Not just the field. The way we live.” Eli reached over and took her hand. “They didn’t even come close.”