Falling for Lawn Care: The Drunken Chronicles of Steve and Steve

When we first moved to Obner Castle, the front of our ranch-style home was lined with evergreen shrubs. We aimed to remove the bushes that stood right in front of our porch but lacked the proper tools for the task. It was at this point that our neighbors from across the street, Big Steve and Little Steve, stepped in to help.

Big Steve was the older of the two; a stout fifty-year-old retired railroad employee and a notable figure on The Circle. After dedicating many years to an office position at the railroad, Steve was compelled to retire due to mental health difficulties. To cope with his struggles, he was rarely seen without his customary beverage—a consistent blend of whiskey and Coke—which seemed to provide a modest solace amid the ups and downs of daily existence. Since our arrival, we frequently observed him either tending to his garden or engaged in disputes with his partner on their back porch. Although his past demonstrated his above-average intellect, his life in retirement served as a telling illustration of the impact alcohol can have on both the mind and character.

Big Steve’s partner, known as Little Steve, was an individual who left a lasting impression within the neighborhood for various reasons. Despite facing developmental challenges and grappling with substance abuse, including both drugs and alcohol, his genuinely helpful spirit was evident in daily encounters. In spite of his personal difficulties, he exhibited a remarkable talent for handling tools and making repairs, often volunteering his assistance whenever neighbors required aid with maintenance or projects. This readiness to support others, combined with his amicable nature, earned him considerable affection among those who lived on Corby Circle.

Our neighbor took great pride in his reliable Cub Cadet lawn tractor, which he utilized daily to keep his yard meticulously maintained with remarkable precision. This beloved tractor wasn't just any ordinary mower; it was a symbol of Big Steve's dedication to keeping their outdoor space immaculate. Equipped with a convenient cup holder—an often-overlooked but essential feature—Big Steve could enjoy a refreshing whiskey and Coke while cruising across his sprawling lawn, making the chore feel less like work and more like a relaxing pastime. Whether trimming sharp edges along flower beds or tackling the vast green expanse, the Cub Cadet responded smoothly, its powerful engine humming a satisfying rhythm under the warm sun. For Big Steve, this lawn tractor was more than just equipment—it was a trusted companion in his ongoing quest for yard perfection and a source of daily satisfaction and pride.

Due to financial constraints after purchasing our new home, we decided to manage the removal of the overgrown bushes in our yard independently in order to reduce landscaping expenses. Aware of our lack of equipment and know-how, we contacted the Steves for help. Big Steve was eager to put his Cub Cadet to the test, while Little Steve had a clear idea of the tools required to complete the project. Equipped with gloves, chains, and thirty-two-ounce whiskey Cokes, the duo showed up one Saturday ready to take on the challenge.

Although it was still early in the morning, the Steves arrived quite tipsy, their laughter echoing through the quiet neighborhood as they struggled to hook chains to one of the stubborn bushes in front of our house. Their bleary-eyed attempts were a surprisingly comical sight—one of them swaying slightly, fumbling with the heavy metal links, while the other tried to steady the shaking branches without much success. Despite their inebriated state, there was a contagious enthusiasm in their clumsiness, as if the early hour couldn’t dampen their spirited plan. Ericka and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene, witnessing how even a simple task like securing chains to a bush could turn into a memorable, if somewhat chaotic, morning adventure.

After several frustrating attempts, Little Steve finally succeeded in attaching the heavy-duty chain to the trunk of the bush. Big Steve gunned the Cub Cadet and gave a shout of triumph when the connection held firm. However, his moment of joy quickly turned chaotic when the tractor suddenly sprang forward with unexpected force, jerking him off balance. Before he could react, he was thrown from the driver’s seat, landing with a thud on our front lawn.

Alarmed, Little Steve rushed anxiously toward Big Steve, his eyes filled with worry as his companion lay awkwardly on the ground. Attempting to help him stand, Little Steve reached out but lost his balance, and soon both found themselves lying side by side on the cool grass. We stood stunned, observing as they caught their breath, before breaking into infectious laughter—an uninhibited, lively sound that echoed throughout the neighborhood. In that fleeting moment of clumsy togetherness and joyful chaos, all barriers between us dissolved, leaving nothing but friendship warmed by shared laughter and the haze of their intoxicated state.

Eventually, the Steves stumbled to their feet and took a few sips of their whiskey Cokes, enabling us to return to work with renewed gusto. Fortunately, the rest of the afternoon went by without any more drunken mishaps, letting us focus our combined efforts effectively. With consistent resolve, we tackled the bushes individually. The change was striking! What had previously been an overgrown series of shrubs concealing our front porch was now a tidy, open area perfect for a flower garden. Thanks to the Steves' generous help, our new home was revitalized.

Beneath the radiant afternoon sun illuminating the newly cleared yard, we stood side by side, taking in the results of our hectic efforts. Then, believing the work was complete, Big Steve remounted his Cub Cadet, this time sipping his whiskey and Coke with greater caution. The tractor's engine hummed smoothly as he steadily drove across the street back to his property, the day's earlier troubles seemingly erased by the simple satisfaction of a task accomplished. Meanwhile, Ericka and I experienced a deep sense of community and thankfulness as we assisted Little Steve in collecting his remaining tools and carried them over to their shed. Our hearts overflowed not only with pride for the rejuvenated garden but also with joy for the laughter, friendship, and lasting memories that had emerged from that eventful morning. It became evident that in this neighborhood, it wasn’t merely the lawn tractor built for durability—it was also the connections formed amid the grassy patches and shared tales that would bind us together for years ahead.