"That's why we're testing the new section without the tree," Eli said. Warren looked at him as if surprised the boy had anticipated the objection. He asked how much extra seed they had used and whether the stones would interfere with harvest, questions Eli had been considering for weeks. Eli answered what he could and said plainly when he did not know.
Warren stood and brushed off his knees. "Well, maybe there is something to it," he said, sounding as if the admission cost him more than the wrench he had returned. He climbed into his truck and drove away without making a joke. Thomas watched the dust settle and told Eli not to mistake a quiet man for a converted one; farmers changed their minds slowly, especially when someone else had shown them what they missed.
A few days later Calvin Reese appeared near the gate while Eli was arranging stones around another row. The boy had ridden over alone on his bicycle, and without an audience he looked less certain of himself. He asked whether Eli really thought the rocks were making the beans grow. Eli told him what had changed in the comparison patches and what had not, then offered to show him the notebook.
Calvin examined the tables, found the rain gauge numbers, and asked why Eli had written failed beside so many entries. "Because those things failed," Eli replied. Calvin stared at him, then handed the notebook back with a shrug. "Guess you did more than stack a few rocks," he said, and Eli realized the apology he wanted might never be spoken as neatly as he had imagined.
The first serious disagreement between father and son came over how far to extend the work. After a run of promising observations, Thomas suggested shifting most of their remaining stones to the lower corn rows before the next rain. Eli hesitated, knowing the corn was at a different stage and its roots occupied the soil differently from the beans. He wanted to keep the expansion small until they had enough evidence, but Thomas looked toward the bank notice on the kitchen shelf and said there was no time to treat every decision like a school project.
Eli felt heat rise in his face. "That's what I did the first time," he said, more sharply than he intended. "I got excited and covered too much, and it didn't work. We could ruin more than two plants this time." Thomas straightened, his expression hardening at being challenged by his son in the middle of the field.
For several seconds neither spoke. Eli regretted his tone but did not withdraw the point, and Thomas was too proud and too frightened to admit that his urgency might be clouding his judgment. Finally the older man picked up his shovel and walked back toward the barn, leaving Eli among the stones. The boy stayed outside until dark, angry at himself for speaking badly and angry at his father for asking him to abandon the caution that had made the project useful.