Neighborhood Watch

Last Sunday I climbed trees with my friend. We went all the way to the tip-top of an old pine tree, settled ourselves into its maze of branches, and then peeked out at the moon through the pine needles. About fifteen minutes later a car pulled up on the road below us. We both stopped talking and watched as a woman got out of the passenger side. She grabbed a bag from the back seat and then mumbled something to the driver through the window. A second later the car drove away and the woman was left standing under a street lamp. She clutch the bag to her chest, wiped the hair from her face, and waited in the small circle of yellow light.

I heard a rustle in the branches beside me and found my friend trying to get a better look at the stranger.

"Who do you think she's waiting for?" he whispered.

"Maybe she's a hitch-hiker," I said.

He chuckled and then shook his head. "But it's a little neighborhood."

"So?"

"She's not likely to get a ride in a little neighborhood. She'd be on the side of the interstate or something."

I nodded. "True."

We watched her silently for a few more minutes. She'd occasionally look over her shoulder but mainly didn't move at all. She just looked straight through the glare of the street lamp into the night.

"Maybe she's a traveling salesman," I whispered. "That would explain the bag."

"I don't know." He brushed a few pine needles off his sleeve and smiled. "It's kind of late to go door to door."

"I just think its so odd she's just standing there. All by herself. In the pitch black."

"She's under a street lamp."

"But everything else is dark! What if she gets attacked?"

"Then we'll help her. We'll watch from our tree."

I chuckled and then tried to stop the branches from rustling around me. "We're like the secret service," I said.

"What?"

"Hiding behind bushes, jumping out of trees--we should get paid for this."

He nodded. "We're risking our lives for this woman."

Suddenly, another car pulled up beside her, this one packed with people. The woman stepped out of the light, got into the car, and then drove away. We sat quietly in our tree and watched the car turn the corner. After a few moments there was nothing but the rustle of the branches around us.

"Well," he said. "Our job here is done."

We nodded, high-fived, and then made our way down the tree.

Easiest stake-out ever.

  

Non-Fiction Thrillers

Last night my roommate, Alyssa, and I watched a scary movie. We turned off the lights, locked the doors, lit the Sweet Ocean Breeze candle, and built a small barricade of blankets and pillows. We set the candle on the kitchen table and let the flicker of the flame play across the walls. After closing the blinds on all the windows we made our way to the center of the room and looked around. Besides the television and the small candle the room was absolutely black. We smiled, grabbed our blankets, and settled onto the couch.

The movie was wonderfully creepy. Small rural town. Ghostly killer with no face and no left hand. Teenage rascals disappearing every five minutes. I was in heaven. I snuggled down into my blankets and smiled in satisfaction.

That's when we heard the woman scream outside.

We live in a college town. Girls scream willy nilly all the time. But this scream was terrifying. It was strained, lasting about 3 or 4 seconds before suddenly ending in a painful sob.
I looked away from the television screen and caught the eye of my roommate.
She reached for the remote and turned off the T.V.
It was absolutely silent.

"Did you hear that?" I asked.

She nodded.
We both looked toward the living room window.
"Hurry," I said.
We quickly got off the couch and opened the front door. We stepped out in the snow and looked around the parking lot. The night was quiet. Nothing but the silence of low-hanging clouds. We shivered and walked back inside.
As soon as we shut the door our other roommate walked into the kitchen from her room. She had her arms folded across her chest.
"Did you hear that?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah." I pointed at the television. "We heard it over our movie."
"It sounded different, didn't it? I was doing my homework." She shivered. "I have goosebumps everywhere."
"Maybe we should call the police," Alyssa said.
"What would we say?" I said.
"We'll tell them what we heard."

A few moments later we were standing in the kitchen. Alyssa had the phone to her ear.

"Hi, I'd like to report a..." She paused and looked at me.
I shrugged my shoulders.
She lifted the phone from her ear slightly so I could hear. "Um, I'd like to report a scream, please," she said.
"A scream?" The officer said.
"We heard a blood-curdling scream outside of our apartment a few moments ago. We're afraid someone might have gotten hurt."
"What's your address?"
I whispered our address while she repeated it to the officer.
"Can you describe exactly what you heard?"
She looked at me.
"It was from a woman," I whispered.
"It was a woman's scream," she said.
"And it sounded like she was in pain," I said.
He recorded our names, the time of the call, and then assured us an officer would be sent to check out the surrounding area. She hung up the phone.
"Well, we've done our part as citizens," Alyssa said. "It was probably nothing at all."
We all nodded our heads.
My other roommate sighed and looked at her hands.
"You guys are going to think I'm dorky," she said.
"Why?"
She smiled shyly and rubbed the back of her neck.
"I want to say a prayer for her." She looked up at us. "Just in case."

So we did.

And then we locked the door.

Pretty sure I'm never walking alone anywhere ever again...

    

A Typical Conversation in My Apartment

     "I have a theory," I said.
     "About what?"
     "About being pregnant."
     My roommate raised an eyebrow. "This is obviously not from personal experience," she said.
     I smiled and adjusted the pillow behind me. "Its from my perceptive observation of other women," I said. "But I want to know what you think."
     "Okay."
     "So keep in mind there's always exceptions, but what if there were mainly just two types of pregnant women."
     "As in how big they get?"
     "No, as in how they react to stress and hormonal changes."
     "Like a pregnant woman who eats peanut butter with swiss chard?"
     "Swiss chard?"
     She reached for the lotion beside her bed. "My aunt would do that," she said.
     I moved the blankets away from my feet. "I don't mean things like that. I mean how they react emotionally. I think there are two types of women who, as an emotional reflex, either get really grumpy or really sobby."
     "But what if I do both?"
     "I think there's one that's more prevalent. You tend to cry more often than you get grumpy, for example."
     She thought a moment. "When I got my wisdom teeth out I was pretty sassy."
     I sat up in bed. "See, I cried like a baby about yogurt when I got mine out!"
     She fingered a loose thread on her blanket. "So I'd be a snappy pregnant lady?"
     "No, not necessarily. We can control our reflexes, or train ourselves to react a different way." I thought a moment. "And, obviously, I've never been pregnant before, so what do I really know."
     "I think I'm naturally sassy," she said. She smiled and leaned back into her pillows.
     "Well, its just a thought." I straightened my blankets and yawned. "There's nothing conclusive about any of it. Just silly observations."
     We were both silent for a moment.
     "Bekah?" She sat up and looked across the room to my bed.
     "Hm."
     "Why did you cry about yogurt when you got your wisdom teeth out?"
     I yawned again and turned toward the wall.
     "I wanted it to be a steak" I said.
     She nodded thoughtfully to herself. "Gotcha."