1.16 Greenfingers

A old metal shutter, large enough to accommodate a truck, is rolled up exposing an opening in the eastern wall of the courtyard. Several guards pass through it and take up positions around the periphery of the courtyard. A moment later, and order is hollered out and inmates in orange coveralls and white cotton work gloves start filing out. Some of them have rakes, others shovels. A few have sheers. One of them has been entrusted with a weed-whacker.

The guy with the weed-whacker gets his machine up and running and starting at the eastern edge of the courtyard moves towards the middle, making broad sweeping motions and kicking up rocks and dust and pollen. The rear window of my cell is pelted with small pebbles as he passes by.

A platoon of inmates armed with rakes make piles of the cut weeds that are then bundled up in canvass sacks by another group of inmates.

In less than thirty minutes, the boys turn the wildly overgrown courtyard into an austerely manicured garden, in the center of which is a rounded hedge and a few modest trees.

Mission accomplished, they march out of the courtyard like soldiers, garden tools resting on their right shoulders, left arms flapping in unison. The guards follow after them through the opening in the eastern wall, and once all have entered, the shutter is pulled down.

Before the dust has time to settle, birds descend upon the worms and insects that have been unearthed by shovel, rake, shears, and hoe.

© Aonghas Crowe, 2010. All rights reserved. No unauthorized duplication of any kind.

注意：この作品はフィクションです。登場人物、団体等、実在のモノとは一切関係ありません。

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

No. 6 is now available on Kindle.