I pulled the curtain back and peeked out the window. It was a moonless night; the bright flashing red and blue lights sliced through my front entry like there was no wall between them. The neighbors must be at it again. The police visited Mr. and Mrs. 'Holyfield' at least once a week, sometimes twice if it happened to be a long weekend. It just so happens to be Columbus Day; a lesser holiday, as far as holidays go, but a day to drink, nonetheless. And drink they did, apparantly.
I didn't call it in. I never had to. The old biddy across the street, Mrs. Stevens, watched the neighborhood day and night. I couldn't prove she was the caller, but the crazy lady with all the cats seemed to be the best suspect. It bugged me to be watched all the time. I didn't mind her being nosey when this happened, though.
ReplyDeleteI was always glad to hear the police break up the neighbor's adventures, but tonight I was especially grateful Mrs. Stevens had called. Just about a half an hour before the police arrived I had heard what I thought were gunshots. Of course, to my novice ears, it could have just as easily been fireworks.
ReplyDeleteWhy anyone would set off fireworks on Columbus Day was a mystery to me. The logical conclusion made me shiver. It also made me curious. I'm not a Mrs. Stevens by nature. I mind my business. Drama of that level is magnetic to the imagination.
ReplyDeleteI do mind my business, as a general rule, unless gun shots are involved. After I heard the noise, I peeked through the front door and noticed Mr. H sauntering his way from the back yard. I watched him stop at the trunk of the car and pop it open. After he did, I was certain I watched him heave something into the back of the car. The details were fuzzy from my vantage point, but I saw enough to convince me to call the police...or at least cradle the phone for ten minutes while trying to decide what to do.
ReplyDeleteBefore I could dial, there was a knock at my front door. I nearly jumped out of my skin and fumbled with the phone, but I caught it before it the floor. Who could that be, I wondered.
ReplyDeleteThe knock came again.
"Coming!" I shouted as I gathered myself. I looked the peephole and Mr. Holyfield was reaching up to knock again.
I stared through the peephole. Fear kept me still and silent. Too late, I thought. He already knows I'm here. I reached for the doorknob. He looked furtively over his shoulder, back at the door, and ran. I could hear him diving behind the shrubs in front.
ReplyDeleteThen the lights appeared. Red and blue waves of safety turned my indecision into resolution. I pushed 9-1-1 on the keypad and waited for the operator, drumming my fingers on the door while it rang.
ReplyDelete"9-1-1 What's your emergency?"