My boys have a thing about laser lights. For the last few years they have loved them. Lately they shine them on the TV, the walls, through windows, in the car, tease the dog, the cats and come as close to shining them in someone's eyes as they possibly can before I holler at them to stop. On Christmas Eve one of them snuck them in his jacket pocket and, on our way into the church, he lasered a house waaaayyy across the street. As he got close to the window, I told him to turn it off with this reasoning: (in my momma knows best voice)
"You have no way of knowing who lives in that house. For all you know, it could be a Navy Seal, and if he sees a laser on his wall, I bet he has already silently rolled to the floor, reached under his bed and pulled out his rifle and is even now looking through his scope to see who has targetted him, and he is targetting you back." (A few years ago I read a fabulous book called Lone Survivor - about Seals - a m a z ing!!)
Gotta love those times when the illustration hits the spot. Today was nothing like that. It was more like a very wierd dream - all day long. It all started last night or rather early this morning. 12:24 according to the police report. The police arrived at 12:36.
For us, it started at 2am. The doorbell rang, but we didn't hear that part. Dale and I woke to the dog barking at the front door wanting to go out. He has been doing that lately, so Dale stumbled to the door in his pjs, opened the door to let Rex out and got a good scare. . . Bethany from the office was standing there and talking a mile a minute. "Office. . . window. . . stolen. . . police. . . alarm." Those words came flying through the door before Dale, caught off guard, let go of the dog out, mumbled something about Rex wouldn't bite, and he had to go put on a shirt . . . and closed the door on the large policeman and little Bethany standing on our dark, cold front porch - with a ferocious sounding cuddly brown dog circling their feet.
Dale returned to the door, and I pulled myself out of my sleepy stupor to shuffle to the door as well. I had heard Bethany, but was surprised to see the large quiet and grinning policeman standing next to her on our dark front porch.
. . . Our phone wouldn't work, so the alarm company had drug Bethany out of bed from the other side of town to come and let the police into the office. As she pulled into the development, there were police cars blocking every entrance with blue lights swirling brilliantly. An officer approached her car and asked where she thought she was going, to which she cocked her head and said, "SERIOUSLY!?? - YOU called me!!" (as only Bethany can say), and he stepped aside.
Cops were everywhere, she said, and as she pulled into the parking lot; the one in charge handed her a special vest (so she wouldn't get shot?- this was surreal), got the key to the building and told her to get back in her car. They cleared the building, and Bethany was asked to go in and look around. As she walked across the parking lot, she saw something shiny at the corner of the building and was shocked realize it was a SWAT guy with a big black gun positioned at the corner of the building. (All we can figure is that since the perpetrator went in through the window, the alarm company didn't have record of him leaving the building, so the police were acting as if he was still on site.)
As she walked in the back door, she said her face felt a little tight. . . A lady cop looked at her a little oddly and said, "You really did just roll out of bed and come, didn't you." Bethany shot her a "duh" look, to which the lady cop replied, "You've got some green stuff on your face." Horrified, she ran to the bathroom to scrape the remains of the lovely mask she had put on her face before bed.
The lights came on in the office, and it was soon discovered that an intruder had smashed in a waiting room window, yanked a TV off the wall and went back out the same hole he had entered.
After a while, someone asked Bethany if she had called her boss. That's when they discovered our line was busy - had been since a boy had answered the phone and never hung it up. Our cell phones are programmed to turn off at 11pm. The officer in charge told Bethany she would have to ride in a squad car to go get her boss. And that is how Bethany in her pajamas (and a sweatshirt) and the big grinning policeman ended up on our front ringing our doorbell at a little before 2am. Inside we were lolling like babies sound asleep to the hum of a wonderful sleep machine and woken up not by the persistent door bell, but the dog, who we thought was just having middle of the night bladder issues. Instead, he was being a good guard dog. (Maybe we should let him sleep at the office at night.)
Dale said when he arrived at 2am, there were at least 6 policemen roaming the halls admiring my photography prints and saying things like, "We didn't even know this building was back here." Well, at least we are now on their radar. And they like my pictures. . . Though our new building is now "broken in" (quite literally) - I am relieved to know we have such dedicated men willing to come to our rescue if needs be. To whomever took our TV, I hope your team loses the Super Bowl! I think I'm gonna come up with a way to add to that horrible alarm that goes off, the sound of a shot gun being cranked back - CA TCH TCH CKKK!!!! I bet he'd leave a little bit more than finger prints getting back out that broken window!
And that was just the beginning of the day . . . to be continued.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment