I don’t know about you, but when a policewoman pounds on my door on a random Thursday at 8:30 a.m., I get a bit concerned. I don’t think she is here to deliver free pies, or any other type of good news. Being the eternally sunny, optimistic person I am, my thoughts immediately turn to my grown sons and what kind of tragedy could have befallen them. Yep, that’s me, combine two parts fear, one part dark imagination and stir. It’s no coincidence my favorite adult mixed drink is a dark and stormy.
Running down the stairs in sleepy pants and a t-shirt, coke-bottle glasses in place, girls flying free, I pounce on the poor woman. “Is it Tyler? Is it K.C.?” I am sure my ramblings make no sense, and she probably now is thinking our house needs to be put on the watch list as containing a 477, or whatever the code is for crazy person.
“Um, no ma’am. I’m here about the abandoned car.” Okay, deep, cleansing breaths. No tragedy. We make small talk as I calm myself and move outside to the area where the abandoned car had resided over the weekend.
“Um, ma’am, you know you are not wearing shoes, right? Well, it’s not too cold this morning, I guess.” Translation, I really am going to mark you down in our records as a crazy lady.
But let’s backtrack. I live in a small town-ish type of suburb. Yes, we have had extreme tragedy, Kirkwood, Missouri, look it up if you must, but I contend we are really just like most other villages anywhere in the world: Mostly, almost always good, with a bit of horrid thrown in, because bad things happen, and can happen anywhere. There is not too much crime generally, and never on our sleepy street of eight houses.
Friday into Saturday, some of us noticed an unknown car parked on our street. Not so unusual with handfuls of recent college grads and their assorted friends dropping in and going out. But said car was still in position on Sunday, so one neighbor, being neighborly, called around to see if the car belonged to anyone. It was also noted that it did not have tags, and the back window had been open all weekend. Sunday afternoon the police were called, non-emergency line, just to check it out. The vehicle identification number was run. It was not reported as stolen, but was also not registered. Hmmm.
Sometime Sunday evening, the car was picked up.
Wednesday the car was reported stolen.
Okay, here is what seems weird to me. If you were going to abandon a car for a few days, perhaps for nefarious reasons, wouldn’t it be better to hide it somewhere it wouldn’t be noticed, like a Sam’s Club parking lot or a shopping center garage? I mean yes, we are a quiet little alcove, but we also look out for one another. If you are old enough to remember the tv show Bewitched, rest assured that we have more than one Gladys Kravitz residing on this street.
So, people saw things and reported to the police. I am sure the case will be solved. And I must say, if we have to have a hint of criminality in our neck of the woods, I am glad it is of this variety.
To the person who abandoned the car in the first place, we are slightly disappointed you picked it up, as we thought a shared car would be a nice thing to add to our neighborhood perks.
And bad guys out there, know this. We are a close-knit neighborhood, we know each other and watch out for each other. We will be ever vigilant, peering through windows and watching you.