Crow's Row

We crossed the lawn and reached the tree line—Griff swaggering as we neared the armed

guard who was standing next to a tree. I recognized this guard; he had been sitting, and then

leaving en masse, with the rest of the cool crowd that morning. By the look of disdain on his

face, he recognized me too.

Griff switched spots with the bothered guard and dragged a tree stump out of the woods for me to

sit on. The other guard glanced at Griff and looked like he was about to say something; deciding

against it, he shook his head and walked away.

Griff lit a cigarette and huffed a few puffs, still beaming. We were a foot inside the tree

line, half-hidden by dense green stuff. Deeper in, the forest was quiet, dark, and I couldn’t

see more than a few feet in before the brush blocked any further view. There were other guards

lined in the trees; I saw heads popping through the brush every once in a while.

“Is this what you do all day? Stand here?” I asked swatting mosquitoes away and rubbing my

arms. It was getting a bit chilly and buggy in the shade. I looked at the warm, bug-free house

with longing.

“Oh, no!” he exclaimed and pointed at a head that popped out about thirty feet away.

“Sometimes I get to stand over there too.”

In my head, I was trying to do long division: the approximate size of the property divided by

the thirty feet that separated each guard would equal the number of big men with guns that I had

to worry about—and then I remembered that my math skills were fictional. “How many of you are

there?”

“There’s just one of me, love,” he told me, wiggling his eyebrows. “But if you mean other

guards, I don’t know. It varies from day to day, from week to week. Since this morning,

probably thirty or forty, maybe more. This is the most that I’ve seen here so far.”

“Wouldn’t it be … better to stand in the sun?” I suggested, casually, after another chill or

bug tickled the hair on the back of my neck.

He shrugged. “Sure it would, but we’re not supposed to.” He pointed at the sky. “Too many

guys, too many guns, attracts too much attention if someone were to fly above us. You never know

who might be watching. These blokes are real paranoid about stuff like that.”

“What exactly are the guns for?”

“Keep people out, keep things in. Not really sure. I just know to point and shoot when I’m

ordered to.” Griff took another puff of his cigarette.

“You don’t know what you’re guarding?”

He glanced down the line of trees. “Nope. And I don’t want to know.”

I had a hard time believing this.

“Aren’t you curious to know why you have to stand here all day with a very big gun over your

shoulder?” I asked him.

Griff was starting to look uneasy.

“Love,” he said as he bent closer to me, “don’t ask any questions about what goes on around

here. I’ve gotten some pretty nasty stares for doing just that. Whatever these guys are up to,

it isn’t kosher, and they don’t react well when people meddle in their business.”

He leaned further in, his chilling voice becoming barely audible. “Listen, from what the kid

told me, you’re very lucky to still be alive. They could’ve just finished you off when they

realized what you saw. Count your blessings and do what you need to do to stay alive—play the

game, keep quiet, and pretend you don’t see anything.”

I gulped.

He took a second and finally forced his lips into a smile. “Just stick by me, and you’ll be

all right.”

“Thanks,” I replied in a whisper. In a small way, I was relieved—because of Griff, but more

so because, at last, I had the reaction that a normal person should have had: fear.

I was taking prolonged breaths to calm the drumming pulsation in my veins. Griff finished his

cigarette with an eventually relaxed smile.

“How did you come to be here?” I asked carefully, keeping my voice low.

“I knew a guy, who knew a guy,” he replied, winking at me.

“And now you work for Cameron,” I mused.

A puzzled look came over him. “Cameron? Who’s Cameron?”

“Uhh … sorry … I thought I heard someone mention that name. I must have been wrong.” I

really hated lying to Griff, but disappointing Cameron seemed like an even worse alternative.

Griff shrugged and didn’t seem to notice my blunder. “Nah, I work for Tiny.”

“Do you actually get paid for standing around all day?” I joked, trying to keep away from

topics I couldn’t talk about and that I didn’t want hear about.

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t do this unless I got paid. I’ve never been without booze or women

for this long. Hanging with these idiots all day only makes this job worse, and I thought I was

going to go crazy until I saw your face this morning.” He smiled warmly.

“Have you been doing this … job for very long?” I asked him.

“Couple months.”

“What were you doing before this?”

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