Sunday, August 1, 2010

Die Tweeker Die!

Friday night.

Z. and I are making dinner and overhear some loud noises coming from the neighbors unit.
We listen through the wall and hear someone who is clearly in a tweeked state, someone shouting and throwing things around the house, someone who doesn't sound like the neighbor who lives there.
We continue putting away the dishes and every once in awhile wander back to the wall listening for the neighbor and trying to figure out who this crazy woman is talking to? Is she on the phone? Is there someone else there? Why is there so much noise and banging around? After a half hour Z. decided to go over and investigate. He knocked on the window because a gate blocks access to the main door. Another neighbor comes out of his house and says, "Hey man, this has been going on for a half hour already. I don't think Mary is even home." Mary is the woman who lives there alone. While Z and the neighbor are talking the tweeker lady lifts the curtains covering the window and waves aggressively. She has a scab on her forehead, no teeth, greasy hair pulled tight into a skinny rat tail. The neighbor tells Z. he called the cops. Z. comes back to the house and fills me in on the details, we speculate if a tweeker broke into the house and is going crazy.

Someone bangs on the door and Z. runs over thinking it's the cops. When he opens the door it's the neighbor  who says, " Man there is a fire over there!" Another neighbor shouts, "Your house is on fire!"
Z. immediately grabs the hose and turns the water on full blast, rushes around the house, pushes the hose through the fence and then jumps the 6' fence. He scans for something heavy to smash the window with and finds a terra cotta pot. He throws the pot against the kitchen window, ducks to avoid the glass, then hits the window with water. The water splashes back. The window did not break. He shouts, " I need a brick, something heavy." The neighbor tosses a brick over the fence. Z. catches it and chucks it full force through the window and begins spraying the kitchen down. At this point the fire has started to spread into the living room at the front of the house.

I'm standing near the front window with a brick in my hand, just about to throw it when the tweeker jumps into the window like a crazed zoo animal. She is frantic and manages to push the window open, bust through the screen and run around  the  driveway. I watch her as she dashes around looking for a place to hide and realize that the front door to Z.'s place is wide open. I run to the door and jump inside the screen shouting at her the, "Get  the F** out of here!" But as soon as I slam and lock the screen door  I see that Z's house is filling up with smoke. I race around turning on ceiling fans, then run out the door. The tweeker runs to the neighbors house pounding and pushing at doors, running from one house to another and down the road.

I head back to the other side of the house where Z. and the neighbor are now running two hoses into the living room and smoke is billowing out intensely. We hear the fire trucks and five of them arrive; sirens, lights and full gear. The firefighters take what seems like ten minutes just to figure out where the front door is, Z. and the neighbor stop hosing and we watch as the fire crew kicks down the picket fence, slams ladders and metal hooks against the house and bust the chainsaws out. They hook up the hoses and quickly spray down the small living unit. They climb onto the roof and smash out the ceiling. They inspect Z.'s house and set up the box fan to help blow out the smoke.

The neighborhood is in full attendance, every single neighbor is out watching the scene and some come over and run their mouths with rumors. " We heard her boyfriend started the fire. is there a kid? We heard there was a baby? What happened? A tweeker? damn those tweekers. Where did she go? we got to get the cops out here?" The tweeker did come back to the scene, she was spotted running alongside the fire truck shouting, " It's there, the fire it's there, right there!"Then she sat on the curb to watch the firefighters, twitching and mumbling to herself. When the cops do show up I describe what the tweeker looks like and try to tell them what happened, but between their own confusion and the neighbors talking over each other  it seems pointless. Finally they are seen talking to the tweeker so we wander over to confirm that it was her. One of them leans over cockily and asks, "Well, did you see her start the fire?" I say, " No, but she was the only one in there." And the cop responds with, "Well, we don't know what happened until the fire department figures it out."

Z. and I head back to the house and wait for the firefighters to finish walking through the house and clean things up. We answer questions while they turn the power off to the entire house and are told to grab a few things, lock up the house and find other places to stay.

The house smells like smoke and the power won't be turned back on for another few days. Z is staying in a hotel and his roommate is staying with his mom until the power comes back up. Moving into a new neighborhood is in the works. Now when we drive down through the neighborhood, the tweekers seem to be everywhere.

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