Ty rented a tiller from True Value, lugged it in his truck, went out to the back and pushed, the tiller digging up the grass like angry antlers.

He saw his neighbor John over the fence, waving with his gloves on. John was retired, and sometimes Ty saw him at the Eagles, a club for men you could join if you were sponsored. There John would buy Ty shots, and talk about his grandkids.

Ty had intended on a corner. But the till felt good on his hands, and he liked the motion, pushing, working, giving the ground its chance. He felt good to the core, working his muscles, which his girlfriend said he never did enough of.

Ty nodded to John, who gestured with a chin-up. Corn! Ty said, and just then he decided he’d make his whole backyard a cornfield.

He’d already purchased the tomatoes and the peppers. His girlfriend had said corn would be ok, she always grew up with cornfields. She used to be a farm girl, but now, since they reunited, she was someone else he was still trying to figure out all over again.

The sky was turning cloudy, and he pushed the tiller faster, hearing it roar and grumble. She was supposed to be here already, his girlfriend from New Jersey. Last week, the excuse was something like the dentist. This week it was a bike race. He pictured her peddling, back in high school, her legs in motion. All of them back then, with their collars up and backpacks.

He was halfway through the yard before the rain fell. He remembered the year before, the Fourth, after the celebration, driving to the farm where she grew up, going to a cornfield with her to spread her uncle’s ashes. They went to the back, to an empty patch and just before the rain, they threw the ash up.

Ty worked at a bank, hiring lawyers and his eye-guy to check up on people if they didn’t pay, to see what they were up to. Ty foreclosed on more people’s houses than he cared to remember. He owned his own house. He could own several of them if he wanted.

He watched the ground, the grass becoming not even grass anymore, the soil just soil. He had no idea what it took to make a cornfield. He felt the rain turning into downfall. He looked for John on his side of the fence, but he figured he must have gone in to his wife, like Ty had done so many times with his before she left him.

Ty turned the speed up. He heard the grind of the motor, pushing hard on the rough spots.