April 1994
It as a dark night in a slummy neighbor hood. There were some gang activity afoot. I was watching from a porch of a house. A van drove by and they stopped in front of a kid walking down the street. They were going to recruit him into their gang. When he said he was a member of another gang, they decided to kill him. They took their guns out, and the kid took off. I then ran into the house and out through the back door. I was now just watching the following events.
A local boy cop was walking down the street towards a house where two old folk were always sitting on their porch with their retarded son. They had lived, thus sat there, for 60 years. The cop joined them on the porch and said “hi” to the son who’s only way of communicating was through the punch lines of jokes. They talked for a bit, when all of a sudden a van, the same one, drove by the house and in their driveway. It continued past the house, around the backyard and out back onto the street through the neighbors driveway.
I was now on the porch with the cop the old folks and the retard. The cop told me to grab the boy and bring him into the house while he saw to the old folk. I went to the boy and he had a red plastic phone in his hands and the cord in his mouth. He then said a punch line which made me laugh considering the consequences.
