Behind The Crackhouse...

When I moved in with my ex (when we were 21),
we lived behind a crackhouse. It was the converted garage
of the crackhouse. What WOULD have been the garage of
the crackhouse. Separated by a thigh high fence. So they could see
us, and we could see them.
They had Rotweilers that were constantly jumping the fence and coming
over to our little patch of yard. Whenever that would happen, the guy
would come over and shyly ask for his dogs. We had a
nice conversation about the dogs, because they were actually very friendly and
sweet in temperament.
Now, the fact that this guy was so nice and shy, don't let that fool you.
We once had heard noises in the middle of the night before, a man screaming:
" AAAAAAHHHH!!! Somebody call the police! HELP!!!"
And then a :
" SHUT UP Mutherfucker!!" And then some flesh-thumping noises.
I sleepily asked S, " Should we call the police?"
And S answered " No, he's got what's comin' to him"
I rolled over and went back to sleep.

Was I scared of the neighbor guy? Nah. Knowing he had done that, and now
I was talking to him about his dogs? Nah. His beef wasn't with me, he didn't
have a problem with us.
You know, I actually believe that had I been back there in our little cottage,
and something happened, and I screamed out the window " Help me someone!"
And they were outside in the backyard smoking a blunt like they sometimes
did, or hanging around their cars out in front, I bet they would have saved me.
If they heard me.
But we also had guns. So did they. We knew they had guns, and THEY knew that WE
had guns.
But this was necessary. AND, if we hadn't had a gun, who knows WHAT would've
happened, the " Day That I Singlehandedly Fought Off a Home Invasion." lol.

Actually, I don't know that this is all that dramatic, or would be a big deal to
anyone else hearing this. I know that it was a big deal to myself, and my friend N,
who was on the phone with me at the time. I was working nights at a place called
Hybritech, a lab that made birth control tests, etc. So I was home in the middle
of the day, by myself, laughing and talking with a friend on the phone.
Suddenly I hear a noise, something to do with our front gate...

Now, surrounding our house is a tall brick wall,the fence directly into the
neighbors yard is short, but we are blocked everywhere else by tall fences,
and brick walls. The only way in is through our equally tall gate. Probably
about 6 feet tall. So I hear some sort of scary noise, scary because my mind
registers it as a splintering wood sound. It's not very loud though, so I'm
just not sure what is going on. This all takes 2 seconds, and I say to N on the
phone " Someone's outside, I need to see who it is."

Looking back, I'm glad that I was so cautious.
Because what I did was, I stepped just outside the front door, which is
a few feet from the gate. The gate is in the alley. So our house is actually
wedged between an alley, and a crackhouse. Lol...and on the side of THAT, is a bar/poolhall.
So I step just outside the front door, facing the gate, and I see a tall black guy,
the reason I know he's tall is because the gate is high, and I can actually kinda
see his face.
We lived in a mostly black neighborhood. People of all colors lived in our "hood".
That was the way I grew up, so I didn't have a problem with it.Was used to it.
WE were the minority, in fact.
Anyway, I mention it because when I say that everyone was black, I now don't
have to describe each and every person as being black. So everyone was black, except for
us. And it doesn't matter, because it could've also been white Peckerwood tweekers, too.
In another neighborhood, it WOULD be.
Just incidental, basically. We happened to be the minority in our neighborhood.

So there is a guy at the gate, and he's tall enough that I kinda see the top of his head, and
his face. He's doing something to my gate, and he has something in his hand. I think it's one
of those metal bar things, a prying doohicky. A forked thing on one end. Curved.
It's a little confusing at this point, because I couldn't really see the metal thing clearly,
but I could see his face. THAT was the scary part...A guy at the gate, I can't really see, what
IS he doing?

I ask him.
" What are you doing?" Actually, I think I said " Hey! what are you doing?" And I tried
to sound kinda tough, not scared.
He wouldn't look at me. This bothered me. He's standing right in front of me, on the other
side of the gate, and he won't look at me. And I'm talking to him, I know he hears me.
I repeat it, louder. " Hey! What are you doing?!" And he's cracking or splintering wood,
I can hear him doing something to my gate.
I can't recall if I said anything a third time. I think I gave up at that point, because I knew
that he definitely had to have heard me, both times. And the fact that his face didn't register
me, and he continued to mess with my gate, that bothered me.
I went back inside, to the phone, and quickly whispered " Someone's outside, I asked them
what's going on and they didn't answer. Hold on, I gotta check this out."

I go into the bedroom, and look out the window. It's the only way I can see out into the alley,
a tiny window overlooking the parking space. A very tiny window. I peer out, and UH OH.