Permission is granted to make one printed copy for personal/non-commercial use only.
Permission is granted to make one copy and one backup copy on electronic storage media, for personal/non-commercial use only, as long as these electronically stored copies are accessible to a single personal computer only, and are not accesible from a network of any kind, including the Internet and World Wide Web.
Any reproduction of this material must include this copyright notice.
Written permission from the author is required for further reproduction, by any method.
It was about 11:00 when the helicopter began circling overhead, its searchlight combing the ground below. At first it seemed to concentrate on the 7-11 on the corner, but it wasn't long before it shifted its focus to the apartment house at 6545 North Simpson, particularly the courtyard. Nobody paid much attention to begin with. Helicopters flying overhead, even with searchlights are not all that uncommon, but as time passed by, a half hour, then and hour, with the beating of the rotors still filling the air, the sound palpable, inescapable, attention had to be paid. Residents began peeking out their windows into the dark. The activity was not all in the air. A police car pulled up into the cul de sac on the south end of Simpson street. It pulled away. Then fifteen minutes later it was back, with another car as well. The view for residents on the alley was similar. The courtyard at Simpson Arms was surrounded.
Two hours, at least, under the unrelenting whop-whop-whop of the helicopter, like the bass of a stadium concert sound system gone wild. The searchlights lancing into the courtyard, the concrete, picnic tables, and trees lit up like day, like a prison escape shot from a Jimmy Cagney classic. Pita, the cat, in the center of the courtyard, his face up, wondering at the new sun. We wondered what might happen to a resident, coming home late at night, who stumbled into the middle of this hornet's nest.
Sometime about one o:clock a figure could be seen out on the street. In outline it looked like one of the neighbors, Danny, a quiet kid. Suddenly the police appeared. "Halt! Police!" For whatever reason the command was not obeyed. The figure disappeared down the walkway to the south of the building. The police close on his heels.
Time passed. More police gathered by the minute. They entered the courtyard in force, with a dog and a shotgun. Pita flew up a tree. The dog showed a brief interest until his handler directed his attention back to the matter at hand. They approached the door to Kim's apartment. Kim, answered. "Hands up! Feet apart!" He protested that he just lived there but they dragged him down the stairs, spread eagling him on the ground, checking for weapons and cuffing him. Kim is a nice kid. Betty, Pita's owner, who lives downstairs, poked her head out of her door to tell the police so but they told her to poke it back in. They took Kim out to the front of the building by the squad cars.
The police appeared to be baffled. Two policemen came to our door , having seen us peeking out, to ask us if we'd seen anyone run into the courtyard. We hadn't. We'd been watching the action out front .
They had little to say to us. "Somebody shot at a cop." It was apparent that that is serious business. No wonder they'd been cautious about entering the walkway, a narrow corridor between the back of the building and an eight foot wall, in pursuit of their suspect. The shadowy figure out front, who had escaped them for the moment, was Danny -- Kim's roommate.
Next we saw Casey, Betty's husband, capture the attention of the police to direct them to the apartment next door to Kim and Danny's, where two kids Danny and Kim's age lived. Danny and Kim spent a lot of time there. Our window (a big picture window) looks directly across the courtyard at that doorway. When the policemen, including one with a shotgun that looked like a bazooka, approached that door we hid in the hall.
Danny was there, with one of the guys that lived there. They came out cuffed and were taken around to the front of the building. We could see Danny's friend sitting on the ground in a pool of light, no shirt in the chill night air, his hands locked behind him.
The police combed the two apartments, along with the walkway and the alley. They never found what they were looking for. There was no gun.
The courtyard was quiet when the other roommate from next door got home. He'd been out on a date. His door was open. His apartment was trashed. Kim arrived at just that moment. The police had released him. "What the fuck is going on?" The roommate was upset. "Shut up, get inside," is all Kim had to say. Good advice, considering the circumstances. The other roommate was released shortly after that. They disappeared with Kim into their apartment. Danny was taken away by the police.
The residents gathered in the courtyard. Had Danny really shot at a policeman, or had he just come home, a little drunk, or maybe with a little grass in his pocket so that he'd been stupid enough to run? The police hadn't stopped to explain anything. They showed up again, early in the morning to try and find a gun. Originally they hadn't been looking for Danny specifically. It was only after they gave chase to him out front that they singled out his apartment specifically. Did Danny drive up in his car and did the police do a make on his license plate? We still don't know. Whatever really happened they didn't have enough to hold Danny. He's back. All they could charge him with was evading arrest. Kim says Danny doesn't have the balls to shoot at a cop. We may never know.
Gregg Writes
| 1989 | Besieged | Claire de Lune |
|---|
| 1992 | Flood --- Riot --- Earthquake! |
|---|
| 1993 | * Gregg and the Trail Bike * | A Stabbing | |
|---|---|---|---|
| Under a Full Moon | Burt Rutan | I Meet a Bear | |
| 1994 | * 7.2! * | A Star Is Born | * My Car Is Stolen * |
|---|
| 1995 | This Year I Flew Like A Bird |
|---|
Contact me by e-mail. You are Besieged reader