Week 35

A group of teenagers -- young thugs, if you will -- were spied by a retired neighbor walking down our street. He observed them unobtrusively from a safe distance, and his vigilance was rewarded. He watched as they casually strolled along, then one of them broke from the rest of the pack and darted up to the large tree in our front yard. He picked up a bag (of what sort I have yet to determine), then rejoined his ilk and they continued their so-called "walk." Unfortunately, our neighbor failed to notify any authorities -- police, immigration, SCI -- no one.

Later that week (it was a Thursday) I stepped outside at 6:34 AM to retrieve the newspaper, as is my daily wont. A wave of dread washed over me. Something was out of place. It was one of those feelings; call it intuition if you must.

And then I saw. Right at the end of my driveway were two bicycles. One was standing and the other was on its side, as if the rider had abandoned it in haste. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. This was not the norm. This was not Woodmont. My wife and I had just walked down that very drive the previous night on a constitutional with our two hounds. I remember it was approximately 8:30 PM, but I neglected to check my watch since at the time I did not understand the import. I am quite certain the bicycles were not there at the time. I would have stepped on them, or my always-alert wife would have commented.

I was not going to make the same mistake twice. For form's sake I next notified Darien. Perhaps this was an error, since precious minutes were lost. It was only then that I called the police and told them about the disruption in our lives. The receptionist (she did not identify herself as a sworn officer, although she well could have been) questioned me sharply. I felt there were things she could not tell me, that were outside her professional ethos to disclose, but it was clear from the strain and excitement in her voice that there were larger issues of concern here. I gave a precise account of events, including position of the objects and the time I discovered them and why I happened to be there at precisely that moment. I confirmed that the owners of this suspect property were completely unknown to me.

The receptionist thanked me profusely. I offered to testify at any trial or grand jury investigation. I did decline police protection. There are always risks in life, and some are higher than others. In this case I felt a moral, a civic obligation to stand on my own that at its Churchillian core is selfless. I am willing to risk all for the larger social good.

It is obvious that something is happening in our once idyllic neighborhood. There is some as yet unidentified change that is being driven by large and shadowy outside forces I do not yet understand. Gangs? Drug cartels? International terrorists? Republicans? There are no clear answers at the moment. But be assured: I am on guard.

Go Dodgers!