Can I make a phone call?

I grabbed an empty glass bottle to take outside to the recycle bin. Walking toward the front door, I saw a tall, thin, young black girl beelining on a diagonal through our front yard, also headed for the front door. 

Normally, I would be alarmed, but for some reason I remained calm, opened the door, dropped my bottle in the bin and turned around as she approached me, out of breath, frantically asking if she could make a phone call. 

I sensed she wanted to come inside, but politely asked what happened to which she rambled off: I was just involved in a high speed chase. My boyfriend was driving. My purse and phone are in the car on the seat. I jumped out and ran. [heavy breathing] The police are looking for me. It's my car. [eyes darting past me out to the road] I don't want to go to jail. Please, can I make a phone call? [nervously looking down the street in each direction]

Um. Woah. Ok. Deep breath. I nodded my head, put my hand on her shoulder and said, "Ok, hold on one second while I go get my phone and my husband." 

I quickly disappeared inside, filled Justin in, asked him what we should do and we both decided to let her make a phone call. "She has rights," I said. We opened the door again, but couldn't see her. We walked  into the driveway and heard, I'm here. She was sitting on the paint cans in the back of our carport. Hiding. Scared. 

Since I was in the driveway, I could see police had already blocked off all streets near the 4-way stop sign. 

I calmly walked back into the carport and the girl approached me. I saw her fragile arms were heavily tattooed, a light brown watch on her right wrist. Long shorts to her knees. Pale green, leather strap wedge platform shoes. Beautifully kept hair, plaited in tiny columns like waterfalls cascading from the center part atop her head. Manicured, shellack nails. White fitted t-shirt with pink and red swirly art on the front. Serious eyes. Focused. I got the feeling she was a tough girl. Not tough enough to take me out, unless she knew Karate, but tough from a life that has shown no mercy, not much (if any) love and little forgiveness. 

I asked why she was hiding and she rambled off how her boyfriend was in a store and he was stealing some things when a lady caught him and he got in a fight with her. The four friends fled the scene and cops had chased them from the east side of town for the past 30 minutes. Her boyfriend was on probation and she said the car was her's. She didn't want him to go to jail and she knew they would throw her in jail too, but she didn't say why (I'm assuming because the car was her's). And for some strange reason, I expected to see tears. Or maybe just water fill her eyes. But no. Not even a glaze. Still the same serious eyes. It made me uncomfortable.

I patiently explained how if she would explain to the police what she just told me, the situation might not be so awful. I told her she needed to protect herself and realize that her boyfriend would most likely be in trouble but doubted she would be going to jail unless she had also broken the law. However, if she continued to evade the police it would make her appear guilty and she could be charged with an accessory to a crime, obstructing government operations, etc.,. 

She fumbled over some more explanations, never took the phone from me when I offered it and decided that it was best for her to walk home. She pointed off in the distance, saying she lived a couple streets away. Then she took off on foot in the opposite direction. 

At this point, I told Justin to go grab my sandals. He did and together we walked over to the police at the corner. We could see the light blue Ford Taurus, surrounded by police. K-9 units were searching within a block of the car. All our neighbors were outside peering, whispering, walking over to each other's homes.

We asked the cop what was going on and he said exactly what the girl had just told us, revealing they were looking for "three females and one male." So, we relayed all the information we had just learned. We felt like tattle-tales, but at the same time knew it was the right thing to do.

He thanked us and we stopped to talk with a few neighbors.

Not even a minute later, a cop car sped down the street at about 60mph in the direction the girl had gone. Over and hour later I walked back out, found the cop we had talked to and learned they did find the girl and one other. He thanked me again, saying they had no idea who they were looking for and how frustrating it had been. He pulled his head out of the trunk of the blue car and wrote some notes on a clipboard. Then he stopped, looked at me and asked, Why do you live here? You know this isn't the best part of town? I told him about NewCity's church plant initiative, our intentional community and that we really like our neighborhood. Yes, our neighborhood and we're sick of crap like this happening. I explained the robberies that occurred in January and he sympathized, agreeing that the justice system is broken. 

Since that evening, I've gone back to being jumpy in the house like I was after the robbery. Especially at night. I keep thinking the girl is going to tell her friends that we ratted her out. Or that the gang she is running with is the one that robbed our home. Or that they'll throw a brick through our window.

We heard gun shots Friday night- a stream of *pop *pop *pop [silence] *pop *pop *pop. Closer than usual. It's been about two months since we heard gun shots.

Then I set the alarm off Saturday morning, scaring the crap out of myself, my husband and best friend, Keri who was in town for a short visit. 

I know I have nothing to fear and that God is protecting us, but I'm still human.

We're going shopping for a baseball bat or sword [home protection device] when we return from our spring break trip.