Safety

I usually go for exercise walks in little non-shiny spandex shorts, a fluorescently colored sports bra, and a loose scoopneck tank top of some kind, so I won’t get too hot.  This is my summer walk attire, at least.  But today, when I got home from my errands and gallivanting, I felt like going for a walk right away, just getting the hell out.  Didn’t feel much like changing, so I just swapped out my indigo satin and black lace push-up bra with a neon pink sports bra, kept my little breezy black cotton scoopneck dress on, took off my black patent sandals and slid swiftly into my thick-soled sports sandals, kept my orchid lipstick on and black eyeliner with fuschia shadow on, pulled my wild curls as best as I could into a loose ponytail, strapped my yellow bunny-eared crossbody pouch over my shoulder and chest, which I’ve been using as an ipod case lately, made sure the ipod had charge, and stormed out the door.  This all took less than two minutes.  
 
As I readied myself to hop off a far end of sidewalk and make my way into the woods, I heard someone talking, closer and closer to me, and took out my earbuds and turned around.  A little boy about four feet tall in long grey drawstring shorts, his eyes all glazed over with tears, approached me plaintively.  My first thought was me wondering to myself if I had dropped something, and when I realized I hadn’t, my next thought was me asking myself if this was somehow a scheme, a scam, if I should really trust the kid.  I then thought to myself, This is how fucked up I am.  I can never trust anyone, not even this crying little kid.  I assessed him quickly, and he looked ultra clean, healthy, worried.  Genuinely worried.  He was having trouble forming words into sentences, because he was trying so hard to hold back tears.  I asked him what had happened.  He said his brother was missing, and he was all alone and didn’t know what to do.  
 
With a few short questions, I was able to extract that his parents were gone, mother was on vacation and wouldn’t answer her phone, father was at work on a carpentry job, this was his father’s apartment he was staying at, as his parents were divorced, he stayed here on weekends sometimes, and his older brother, who was about 18 years old, was supposed to be taking care of him.  The brother’s friend had come by, and the brother had told the kid he was going to be outside with his friend in his car, to come down and get him if he needed anything.  The kid, who was 8 years old, had been looking for something and couldn’t find it, so he went downstairs and found his brother’s car gone, and he had been waiting there outside for him to come back for some time, and felt alone and very frightened.  His brother had a cell phone, but the kid didn’t have the number.  He wasn’t locked out of his apartment, he just didn’t want to be in there all alone, just wanted to find his brother.  I told him his brother would probably come back soon, that teenage boys get carried away with things and lose track of time easily, and asked him his name.  Andrew, he said.  I extended my hand out and told him my name and he shook my hand and smiled lightly through his misty eyes.  I smiled at him broadly and warmly, wanted to put him at ease, told him I’d wait with him for his brother and we sat down on a big step near the front entrance of his apartment building.  I asked him if his brother was with a girl.  He said no, it was another boy.  I asked him what grade he was about to begin.  He said third grade.  Tried to make pleasant conversation and get Andrew to smile.
 
"Do you like school?" I asked him.  
 
A very guilty look flashed in his eyes and he hesitantly said, "No…not really."
 
I laughed.  "I hated school!"
 
"Me too!  I hate it so much!"  He started to smile.
 
"That’s actually a very healthy attitude to have," I told him.  "You should totally hate school.  Absolutely."
 
He burst out laughing at that point.  I was elated to see him forgetting his troubles for a minute.  
 
A white car paused in front of the apartment building, and pulled into a space.  
 
"That’s my brother!" he shouted excitedly.  
 
"Great!" I watched him run up to his meathead looking older brother, called out, "Bye, Andrew!", smiled and waved.  He called out bye back and waved, the brother looked kind of confused, and I immediately vanished into the darkness.  Didn’t feel like guilting the older brother.
 
I was happy I had walked by that building when I did, hoped I had helped the kid feel a little better, less alone, at least.  Was touched that he somehow had trusted me enough just seeing me pass by to come to me for comfort.  My mood shifted greatly, though, unfortunately, as I neared the opposite end of the grounds.  
 
I traipsed out from a path through the woods onto the beginning of a wide loop of road and sidewalk, upon which is about the middle point of my walk, normally.  A very long stretch of winding curb which I like to use as a balance beam beckoned me forward excitedly.  I strode ahead, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw three very thuggy looking men get out of a parked car together, about thirty feet behind me.  Didn’t think much of it, but a few seconds later, I looked behind me and the three of them had spread out about fifteen to twenty feet apart each, all about the same distance from me, all staring at me coldly, walking in my direction.  As they neared a little closer to me, they seemed to be a tiny bit closer together, all walking at about the same pace.  Geometrically, if they each continued the same paths they were on, at the same angles, it seemed like the likely point of convergence would be…me, scarily.  My heart began to race immediately, but I knew I had to think quickly.  Well, I didn’t know whether or not their intentions were to rob me or do anything at all to me, but my mind absolutely cannot take chances like that; I’ve seen that brand of coldness and determination in the eyes and body once before– years ago when I was mugged.
 
Flashbacks of two men pursuing me like predators, catching up with me and holding me down pounding my face against concrete repeatedly while kicking me all over, the cold unblinking moon of one of his eyes hovering over mine, pulsed through my brain and threatened to stifle me with fear, but I was able to use the fear to motivate myself to frantically look for a way out of the possible situation. 
 
I looked forward and knew that if I continued the path I was on, even going fast, there was so much darkness and empty space to travel, and such a long path, that it would be very easy for them to catch up to me if they wanted.  I looked to the path to the distant left of me,and realized that was a curved winding dead end with much darkness, that it would be quite easy for me to be caught up with there as well, and I would have nowhere to possibly escape even at its end.  I thought of running to the sidewalk behind me, on the opposite side of the wide road, but looked down it and saw a lot of darkness there too, and another lengthy path upon which I could be caught up with easily before I ran into any place I could possibly take shelter.  Upon looking down that last path, I saw the men still all appearing to be converging on me, and felt like a little lamb being stalked by hungry wolves.  I can’t recall whether or not I was still walking or had stopped walking to strategize.  When I count out to myself now, one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand four, I realize that all of this recognition of possible danger and painstaking weighing of options could only have taken about ten seconds total, maybe less.  
 
I was so lucky that a sedan pulled up to the stop sign about twelve feet from me, diagonally to the left, about to travel down that last path I was considering.  I didn’t know exactly what I was going to do, but I seized this opportunity and dashed in a straight line up the small hill, as swiftly as my feet would take me, and stopped for a fraction of a second just behind the car, swerved to the right side of it and ran next to it, not wanting to lose focus by looking at the men as I passed on the side of them, the moving vehicle shielding me from their possible grasp.  I ran alongside the sedan partway down the hill until it sped up and lost me.  Ran the rest of the way down the hill as fast as I could, using the downhill momentum, and saw what I often refer to as "the scary path" to the right of me, canopied in near total darkness.  The only other possible path, a path I had just walked out from a minute before but hadn’t considered taking back, because I hadn’t known if I could get around them so boldly to get to it, and I figured there was even more opportunity for delinquent activity in the middle of the darkened woods.  In fact, the middle of the darkened woods was the last place I wanted to be with them.  But very quickly, I thought to myself that I hadn’t seen people that thuggy living here before, and banking on the possibility that they didn’t live here or had just moved here, they wouldn’t know the trails as well as I do.  I know all of these trails as well as I know the angles and curves of my own face, as well as I know my own private insecurities.  
 
I stood in darkness at the muddy outstretched tongue of the scary path, looked behind me very briefly and couldn’t see the men over the hill yet, assumed they couldn’t see me, if indeed they had been looking, and took off running into the woods as fast as I was capable.  Veered around and up a path and looked down, didn’t see any approaching shadows, continued on around another path and found some elegant looking people having a party on their terrace.  Caught my breath near them for a few seconds, knowing I had safety in numbers, wondered how crazy the driver of the sedan must have thought I was, but thought to myself, What’s the worst that he could have done?  Stopped and asked me why I was following him or if everything was okay?  Took a short trail leading out toward a much more public area, where a couple of people were walking their dogs.  I was so grateful to be among them and close to my own apartment.  I also knew that thugs like that, if they had been initially pursuing me, would not go to all that much trouble to catch me if I got away and certainly would not try anything in an area as public as I was in now, as long as other people were watching.  Walked down the well-populated street leading to my apartment building, and when I was on my own stretch of sidewalk, as desperately as I wanted to run inside and hide, felt obligated to very briefly walk down to the end where the little boy had been, to make sure he wasn’t somehow out there again.  Just wanted to make sure.  When I confirmed to myself that he wasn’t out there, and saw the brother’s white car still parked in front of their building, I took off running back to my own apartment, made certain to lock every lock on the door and chain it, and told William everything that happened, still huffing and puffing and trying to catch my breath.  
 
I made sure to keep saying that I wasn’t sure if they were really after me, that it really could have been nothing, just paranoia on my part, post traumatic stress leftover from years before when I was attacked.  I was kind of hoping he’d find or lead me to some possible evidence that they hadn’t been after me, that it was nothing.  That I had certainly been safe the whole time.  But instead, he pointed out that why would three thuggy looking guys get out of a car together and then spread themselves out fifteen feet apart like that at different points of the sidewalk and street, and then converge in on a small woman, if not at least to rob her?  I didn’t know.  Other than an answer I don’t want to be true.  I sat down and asked him if any of his clients have ever attacked someone in that manner, as he represents mainly juvenile and young adult delinquents for a living.  He looked at me very seriously and told me a lot of them have and do.  Said he’s seen tapes recorded on city cameras in which his clients’ attacks on people looked exactly as I described.  Said it was a standard method.  So not what I wanted to hear.
 
But I am absolutely fine now.  In terms of personal safety, it’s probably for the best that I am so mistrustful of people.  If there was any possibility of a violent situation, I was able to avoid it successfully.  And I can’t be sure that they had any malicious intentions, of course.  It could have been something else entirely.  Guess I’ll never know for sure.  But knowing with certainty would have meant leaving myself in potential danger, so I think this uncertainty is the best possible outcome.