Elfangor.
"Dad, what do you call a group of crows?" my daughter asked.
"Pardon?"
"You know- like a pride of lions or a herd of horses, what would the name
for a group of crows be?"
"A flock?" I suggested.
She shook her head. "No, it was something really weird, but I can't remember it right now."
"I will ask Tobias. It sounds like something he would know."
My daughter and I always seem to be the last ones out of the house in the morning. We have a conversation something like this one everyday as we franticly rush around pulling outer layers of clothing on while pushing our hair into place, while stuffing makeshift breakfasts down our throats, while attempting to jam all of our things for school or work into our bags. Tobias had left fifteen minutes ago and Loren had left with Sean at least an hour ago. Maria and I were here, as always, ten minutes late, with only the knowledge that today was Friday to sustain us.
"Good-bye Dad, I love you," she said. She came over to me and kissed my cheek.
"I love you, Maria," I answered. I squeezed her hand.
She rushed out of the room as I turned toward the door leading to the garage. I work at home most of the time, but I must be physically at work several days a week.
I began my current job when I was nineteen. Much like it did then, it bores me absolutely senseless. My oldest son tells me that it was foolish of me to choose a field which I already knew everything about. Better to explore one which humans might actually teach me something new about; literature, history, law, art. These are things which no two species develop in the same way, so it would all be new to me. For a long time, I resisted his idea simply because with this job I could generate money without even trying. However, after wanting to pull hairs out of my head just to have something to do for three days of each week for the past sixteen years, I must agree with him. I would rather be a teacher or a writer or a househusband (actually, that is what I do most of the time when I work at home, after I complete my allotted day's work in a few minutes). I resolved to tell him so when I saw him that night. Tobias usually gives good advice.
Growing up, I always heard about the incredible, boundless, almost involuntary love that most parents have for their children. So to some degree I expected that when Tobias was born, although you can't really grasp the intensity of it until you have your own child. What I hadn't expected at all was how much I liked him. As a friend. I loved to just talk to him. Tobias is very quiet and spends a good deal of his time just sitting with his thoughts. So whenever he does say something it has been so well thought out that it is almost certainly worth hearing. We can have such wonderful conversations. He amazes me with some of the things he says, and the clear, mature exchange of ideas is thoroughly enjoyable. Not in math or science, of course, because he will never be at my level in those things. That's more of Maria's domain. I mean things like philosophy. Psychology. More subtle and profound things like that. Sometimes I go out to dinner with him, not with Loren, not with Sean, not with Maria, just with him, so that we can just talk and talk and talk for hours and we both love every minute of it.
This ability to just enjoy each other's company started very early on. When he was two weeks old, I lifted him out of his crib to bring him downstairs. Instead, I stopped short and stared. He was looking up at me with these wise, knowing eyes as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. So I began telling him all my thoughts and troubles as if I were speaking to my wife or one of my friends. And do you know what? I felt sure he knew exactly what I was saying.
I truly believe that we are kindred spirits at some level that transcends just father and son. Don't misunderstand me; I love Sean and Maria so much that it hurts sometimes. They are my children. But Tobias is my friend.
I pulled into the parking lot of my workplace and was greeted by my friend Melanie. I met Melanie in college, and she has been a great friend to Loren and me ever since. She is one of the four people in my division who worked on projects with me. I by far enjoyed just talking with her and my other teammates than actually working.
"How's life, Alan?" she asked as we headed up the stairs together.
"I am well, thank you," I said. Than I added smugly, "It is Loren's turn to do the bills."
"Don't remind me," she sighed. "So, what have we got today, boss?"
I shrugged. "We have to do something or other for this Jacobs person."
"Boy, am I glad I got out of bed today."
We walked silently for a few moments. Then suddenly I said, "Melanie? What is the name for a group of crows?"
She grinned. "They call it a murder of crows. Morbid, ain't it?"
I said nothing. I suddenly felt a chill in the pit of my stomach which seemed very out of place on this bright California morning.