God’ Plan

It’s 11:05pm. I have just come back to my computer from the basement apartment where my housemates live. Our dishwasher is running. I just spent 27 minutes talking to my father. The 6 police officers have left my bedroom, taking their 3 cruisers away.

I had called the police because one of the 2 little girls living in an apartment building next to my house was being beating with a stick by a man larger than me. A woman was trying to stop him – the man would toss her aside and she would force her left palm up his chin, her right hand outstretched to the little girl, putting herself in harm’s way as he would raise a coat hanger, a broomhandle, a rolled up piece of paper, and try to bring it down on the little girl.

I was going to stay late at work today. I decided not to.
I was going to the gym after rehearsal – I decided to go before.
I was going to rehearse late, but decided I would leave at 8:30.
I was going to enjoy the cool night air on my fire escape as I had been planning all winter

I opened my window and sat on the balcony of the fire escape outside. My knee hurts. I sit on the steps leading to the balcony. I have my lit cigarette, and breathe deep as the screaming begins. A child’s temper tantrum.

“No.”

I had a sickening chill run through my stomach as I saw the scene unfold. The woman wore pink pajama pants. The fat man was shirtless. The girl was in her underwear, no shirt. There are dolls on her windowsill that have fluffy hair.

For God only knows how long, I watched as the woman would push the man out of the bedroom door, his arm hanging through the crack as he forced himself back into the room. Again, he’d be pushed back and this time he’d go … returning with a different item in his hands. Sometimes the woman would get struck. Sometimes she'd get tossed out view and the man would climb onto the girl, beating her.

My great grandfather was an All-American football player who was arrested for beating up a bus driver who made a comment about the Irish. He bust down a neighbor’s door thinking she was being raped when it was actually an episode of “The Shadow” playing on the radio. I grabbed a rock and was going to hurl through the girl’s window, trying to get the man to leave her alone.

Call the police instead, I thought.

My balcony is in plan view of the girl’s window. There is no other way to see in it.
The cops asked my roommate if I was a peeping tom.
The cruisers were gone before we knew it.
2 men stood outside the apartment building of the dispute and watched me meet the officers and bring them to my house.
There is no lock on my window.
The Bible is on top of the dresser to left side of my bed, my sex toys hidden in a drawer in the nightstand to the right. I’m no saint, but tonight I feel I was part of God’s plan.