The People Behind My Eyes

Cry Baby (age 13) - No, no, don’t call the police. I’m on probation. I’ll go to jail for 6 months. It was M, it wasn’t me.

M (age 14) wasn’t yet across the street so he had no clue he was being blamed for everything.

Concerned Neighbor wanted to say: Jail! You in jail? You’re the same kid who got his ass kicked by a skinny little something. You fell on the ground and cried like a girl because he kicked you. What on earth do you think you’d do when some big boys get a hold of you?

Concerned Neighbor said- Probation? You’re 13. You shouldn’t even know the word probation.

Little Pimp wanna be (age 9) stood white as snow nearly in tears next to Cry Baby and his little brother. M was still across the street hiding in the bushes. They kept calling to him. I wasn’t sure if he was going to run or join the blame party. Finally he came over and stood with us.

Cry Baby’s brother (age 9)- If you call the police my Dad is going to whoop my ass.

Concerned Neighbor said: I can’t say I approve of spanking but you should have thought about that before you threw snowballs at moving vehicles and painted symbols on a sign. I’ve told you boys you can’t do this in my neighborhood.

Cry Baby’s brother – Come on Ms. F, don’t call the cops. I wasn’t throwing snowballs.

Concerned Neighbor: What’s that in your hand?

Cry Baby’s brother- I’ve been saving this. I didn’t throw any snowballs.

Concerned Neighbor- (Rolls her eyes several times, shakes her head) Save it for the cops and explain to them why you vandalized that sign over there.

Cry Baby took off running down the street. His brother called out to him. “There’s no need to run. She knows where we live.”

I do know where they live. I also know how they live which is why I stay on them about being home by curfew which is midnight. They and the 2 other boys broke curfew AND threw snowballs at cars as well as again vandalized a sign. Yeah, I called the police on them. With them standing right there I called. If you are bold enough to throw stuff at cars and spray paint on a sign you’re bold enough to stand at my gate and wait to face authority. Once the hefty cry baby came back he walked up to me and said, “I’m sorry Ms. F. I won’t do it again.” He offered me his hand to shake. I shook it and lead him to the side. That’s when I realized this was no little cry baby, the boy hit his growth spurt. At age 13 he towered above me. Hiding my slight intimidation I said, “These boys follow whatever you do. You can choose to lead well or lead them into trouble. It’s your choice.” “Yes ma’am,” he said.

The police officer arrived and first asked how old everyone was. When he found out two of them are 9 years old he told them to high tale it home. They took off running. It was so dark it didn’t take long before they disappeared down the street. The two older boys (13 and 14) the officer knew by name. He asked why they were out putting others in danger. He then told them to high tale it home. They both turned and walked all big and bad down the street. The officer told me to keep it up and that if I needed his nightstick to beat the shit out of them I could borrow it. “No thank you. A little concern goes a long way.”

I like those boys. I think they’re good kids. If I didn’t like them, if I wasn’t concerned for their immediate safety and for their future I’d never step outside to make sure they’re okay. That golf course is dark. They play over there in the middle of the night. When I can’t see them I get nervous. Then when I see snowballs flying out from the bushes I get angry and concerned. They know I care. We have a good time together but they know getting away with murder isn’t something they can do. I call it my street, my neighborhood but really, it belongs to them too and they should care to keep it safe and beautiful. They should care to stay in it. I try to make that point clear to them even when they’re kicking my butt in football. The update to this entry is that so far I haven’t seen them out past curfew. Like I said, they’re good boys.

Austin