The Misadventures of 9th Avenue

I'm intending for this to be a full series starting with our most recent events and working backwards. Jared, I plan on giving you authorship on my blog so that we can have you guest post on some of your favorite mishaps. We've definitely had some good times around here.

But tonight, as in right this minute, which happens to be 12:42 a.m. I'm beginning to think that things are getting a little serious. Okay, a lot serious. I'm just trying to lighten my own mood so I'll stop shaking.

Around midnight I heard the not unusual commotion of our neighbors dog(s). Since Jason was home, I decided to not allow my imagination run wild like it does most nights when I hear any noise. My phone rings, again not unusual this late, it's Rachael's normal calling time. Instead its my next door neighbor, we'll call her Betty G. to protect her identity. She calmly asks, "What's going on over there?"

Since my son is still awake playing Xbox with Jason and knowing that she has x-ray vision, I'm preparing my speech about the neccessity of father-son bonding no matter what time of the day or night. "What do you mean?" I ask just as casually, trying to thwart her.

"I mean with the officer out there with his lights on. Did you call them again?"

I immediately open my dining room blinds and call my boys over to gawk out the window at the pretty blue and red lights illuminating my house. "No, I didn't call tonight. I noticed the dogs going crazy but wasn't going to worry about it."

"Well," she says, "I don't like it at all that they have their lights on."

We speculate for another minute or so, then I decide I'm going to exercise my rights as a citizen and call for some information. I'm pretty tight with both the emergency and non-emergency phone numbers for our local police department.

"Kennewick Police Department, may I help you?"

"Yes, I live on 9th avenue and have an officer parked at the end of my driveway. Can you give me any information?"

"Yes ma'am. There's been a major incident reported in the area. This shouldn't involve you but I advise you to remain in your home with your windows and doors locked."

Not satisfied with the inadequate information and creepy warning, I fib a little. "I'm home by myself with my three young children,"

"I understand ma'am. There's been an incident reported at the gas station. Again, I advise you to remain indoors with your windows and doors locked. Please call if you see or hear anything."

I thank her, hang up, and frantically call Betty G. "I can see flood lights searching all the yards. They must be looking for someone," she reports. "I'm going to call J.C." Identity protection is essential in this neighborhood.

As I'm calling to update my mom on the drama, I notice an officer walk by my kitchen window. I answer the door feeling intensely embarrassed my the yellow and cracked toilet in my yard complete with remnants of torn up diapers. I don't need anything else to add to the 'white trash' stereo-type one acquires living in a double-wide. "Ms., is that your black and white dog out there?"

"No sir, it's the neighbors. But as you can see, he frequents my yard."
Why did I feel it neccesary to make excuses for my yard-art?
"Is everything alright out here?" I asked.

"There's just been a robbery and we'd like to get that dog out of here so we can let our K-9's out. He's about to get tazzed," he informs me casually. Like super casually. I almost laugh he's so relaxed.

"Go ahead, we don't really like him," I say STUPIDLY. What can I say? I'm super freaked out at this point and not thinking straight. "The neighbors yard is completely gated off and I doubt you'd be able to reach anybody," I add.

He chuckles, thanks me, and leaves for his car.

I call Betty G. She informs me that J.C. has had the officers at her house also, questioning her. Did she notice anyone? Hear anything? It had been reported somehow that the suspect had ran through her yard. All she had to report was that she had heard a car pull in and out of her driveway. My blood is pumping, my hands are shaking, and my boys are still engrossed in their game of Lego Star Wars. I hang up with Betty G. and then immediately call her back when I notice her standing on her front porch.

"What are you doing out there?" I ask.

"I'm trying to flag down that officer. I just noticed that the door to my shed is open." As she is waving her hands at the car, the lights are turned off and the officer pulls away.

"Well, call 9-1-1!"

"And say what?"

"And say that you live in the vicinity of the robbery and you noticed that the door to your shed is open. She said to call and report anything. The number is 628-0333, call me back!"

(I'm getting myself completely freaked out as I'm writing this now that its 1:30 a.m. Jason is asleep on the floor behind me snoring and I swear I keep hearing noises! I HATE this!)

She calls back and says that the dispatcher said they would send the officers out to check. At this point she can see all of the police cars leaving their various positions around the block (she's up higher than most of us so she's got a good view). Then she gasps. "The dog just went into my shed!"

"The K-9?!"

"No, I never even saw them. The black and white dog. He's acting strange." Now 10 minutes have gone by since dispatch said the officers would be back to check the shed. "Maybe they've caught them since the officers haven't come back. At least that's what I'm wanting to think," she says.

"Call the dispatch back and ask. Say that you noticed no one had come to check on the shed and were wondering if the issue had been resolved. Then call me back!"

A minute later she calls. "No, they haven't caught anyone and they are still searching the area. She asked me if this was Betty and said that she had informed the officers."

"I sure felt better when the officer was at the end of the driveway," I said. At this point we're both trying to reassure one another, and speculating on all the events. I'm completely weirded-out realizing how often Jason runs down to Sunmart late at night for milk or bread or soda. We talk about how we don't know how we'll sleep tonight and then decide to hang up. Which leads me to sitting her, wide awake while the rest of my house slumbers wondering how I'm going to possibly sleep tonight. It's hard not to gather up all my kids and squish into my queen size bed with them. It's hard to not call the non-emergency number just to find out if they've caught anyone. It's hard to not wake up Jason and demand that he stay awake with me listening for creepy noises.

I'm certainly sleeping with all my lights on tonight.

Stay tuned for the next installment of 'The Misadventures of 9th Avenue' featuring my Friday night phone call to 9-1-1.