Friday afternoon. The subdivisions off Bethelview Road are emptying out toward the water, and The Turf Mafia is knocking down the last cuts before the weekend. Mow, edge, trim, blow — same order, same way, every route. A straight border along the curb is a small and stubborn kind of pride, and it reads from the street at twenty miles an hour. Saturday morning, folks step out the door to a yard already handled. That is the whole idea.