Keep off!

Sixteen-year-old Tim had lived in the same house his entire life. It was a quiet town where everyone knew everyone else. Only one man, Tims across the street neighbor, didn’t socialize with anyone in town, aside from telling them to get off his lawn.

Nobody knew this man's name or when he moved in. He had been there a very long time and rarely had guests over.

Tim had been watching him for some time. When he was ten, he tried to spread a rumor that the man's lawn was astroturf as he’d never seen him water it,, and all 3 acres were always a very picturesque height. It was a foreign concept to Tim not to talk to his neighbors,, and Tim had grown a distaste for the man over the years.

Every once in a while,, luxury cars would pull into the old man's garage and leave about an hour later, Tim had seen this happen three or four times, but only in the middle of the night. Tim was never a night owl, but things were starting to change as his parents had just granted him the freedom of his truck.

Now,, Tim would come home at odd hours on weekends after partying with his friends, and he was starting to notice that the luxury cars pulling into the old man's garage came more frequently than he thought.

Tim thought to himself, “Maybe he isn’t such a loner. Maybe after we get past the “Get off my lawn.” stuff,, we could get to know each other.”

As Tim nervously approaches the house, he has no choice but to walk on the lawn. There’s no driveway.

Suddenly, the old man bursts out the front door, madder than Tim had ever seen anyone. “Get off my lawn!”

“Sir, I was just interested in some lawn care tips, and I always admired-”

“You want a lawncare tip? Get off the lawn!”

Tim trips as he turns around to walk back but manages to break the fall with his hands. The lawn is sharp but not rigid. Sharp enough to cut both of his hands, but there is no blood stain on the grass.

“I told you to stay off of the fucking lawn!” The door slams behind him.

Tim is starting to understand why this man is obsessed with his lawn. It is obviously some type of ornate grass, or maybe he was right in the first place, and it’s some type of high-end astroturf.

A few days pass with Tim leaving the old man alone, and then he hears through the grapevine that a Rolls Royce got pulled over by the local sheriff with a man tied up in the trunk. It’s the talk of the town as nothing ever happens there. The man confessed to police that he was a low-level associate with the New York City mafia and didn’t know where they were taking him.

Tim knew. There’s only one place luxury cars go in his town, across the street from his house.

Tim immediately contacts the local sheriff and tells him everything. The sheriff is suspicious of the boy but decides not to turn down a lead, no matter how bad it is.

Tim watches from his window as the sheriff knocks on the old man's door. It takes him a while to answer. Eventually, he invites the sheriff into the house. Hours go by, and the sheriff still hasn’t come back out.

Tim knows this is bad, and there isn’t another cop for miles. He decides to take matters into his own hands, but this time, he hides his dad's handgun in his pocket.

Tim knocks on the door, but it swings open wildly before he can touch it.

“Getting involved in my business again, I see?” The old man says with a scowl as he pulls him into the house.

Tim thinks there’s nothing his handgun can’t handle, and then he looks around. The old man has three people over, all wearing Italian suits. The sheriff is tied up, gagged, and naked.

The old man points to Tim's pocket. He can see the outline of the gun. “Hand it over, and we’ll talk.”

Tim knows he’s in way over his head. He reaches for the gun, thinking he’s going to fire it, but before he can touch it, one of the men grabs his wrist and yanks the gun out of his pocket.

“You wanna be on my lawn, that’s fine.” The old man motions with his hand as the other men bind his hands behind his back. “Stay quiet, or I’ll gag you.”

The guys in Italian suits drag the sheriff outside and motion for Tim to follow. “This can go one of two ways for you, kid. It just depends on how well you can keep a secret.” the old man says this as if even he doesn’t know which way it will go.

Two men throw the Sheriff into the lawn, and blood starts pouring out of him, but as soon as it touches the lawn, it seems to get absorbed.

“Blood makes the grass grow. Bodies disappear.” the old man whispers.

As the last remains of the sheriff begin to be absorbed into the ground, the old man speaks to Tim in a very gentle whisper. “I want you to take as much time as you want to answer this question because I want you to know it’s a tricky one, or maybe it isn’t, but what I will tell you is that I’ve never wanted to hurt you.”

Tim opens his mouth to speak and is interrupted by the old man.

“I’ve kept you away from that lawn since you were young. It was hard work, and it should be abundantly clear that I don’t want to see you get hurt…Now… What did you see today?”

Tim thinks for a couple of seconds. This time, he isn’t interrupted by the old man. “Nothing, I saw absolutely nothing. I wasn’t even here.”

A big smile stretched across the old man's face. “It’s been fun watching you grow up. I knew you were a smart kid. Nothing gets by you.”

The old man points at Tim. “Untie him, give him back his gun!”

As Tim walks off the old man's property, he hears one last shout from the old man. “Stay off the lawn this time!” The door slams behind him.