At noon in June the heat comes up off the west Macon pavement in visible waves, and the only cool thing on the block is the shade under a deep hedge. Tucker's Perfect Cut is out in it anyway, laying stripes across the Bermuda one overlapping pass at a time, because a straight line is a straight line whether anyone is watching or not. Edges get cut down to the concrete, trimmer work goes around every post, and the blower takes the drive back to bare gray. Turn around at the curb and the whole yard reads at once — lines, edges, nothing loose. That is the job.