“Carl’s a cheerful one.”

“He also said the garage parcel survey hasn’t been recorded since 1998.”

I set the can down.

Above the garage, one oak limb forked out over the shingles, thick as my thigh, and the bark underneath had split in a long, pale seam.

“Has that always been cracked?” I asked.

“Since the storm in May.” He squinted up at it.

“Vernon quoted me three hundred and forty to take it down.”