For most of the story, Rich is wrestling with a toothache: “He pressed his tongue to his tooth to dull the ache. Colleen was on him to see a dentist” (73). This literal decay seems to worsen, or at least persist, as he bends to Merle’s will in a bid to secure the roads he needs for the 24-7 Ridge. Colleen remarks on Rich’s intransigence: “Rich forked up a bite of pumpkin, winced. Why was he being so stubborn about that tooth?” (228-9). In reality, she might very well be asking the same question about her husband’s refusal to see the evidence of the spray poisoning the community.

It wasn’t always like this, though. When Rich met Colleen, he changed his oral habits: “He’d quit chewing snus cold turkey the day he met Colleen. Stuck a toothpick in his mouth nine years ago, and that was it” (5). It is as if Rich’s oral hygiene reflected some kind of new clarity reached upon meeting Colleen. But the rot set in after the challenges of married life, the many miscarriages, and the silences between Rich and Colleen. Its malignance or irritation exists before Rich buys the 24-7 Ridge, but then it grows as he buries his head in the sand over what is happening both in the community and his marriage.