Chapter 7: Cruiser
The weather was hot and I routinely opened the back and front doors, leaving only the screen doors closed, so that air could pass through. I was at the front door, lifting the screen when I saw a police cruiser drive by—slowly. Looking more closely, I saw the face of the young suspicious cop staring at me.
Feeling vaguely violated, I stared back until the car had passed.
That got me a little shaky, and angry.
The experience stayed with me, and I found myself going frequently to the front door after that, or looking out my bedroom window, which faced the street.
In fact, occasionally I would just stand on the porch, staring out in an impotent stance of defiance, daring him to drive by again.
And, one afternoon, he did. And this time—as I glared out at him, my arms c
