I went to pick up my daughter from a classmate’s house Saturday afternoon, a few blocks away. The girl has been coming to our Wednesday after-school classes and has gotten to be good buddies with my daughter. As it turned out, it was her birthday.
The girl’s teenage brother answered the door and invited me in. A wall of thumping and blaring music repelled me a little bit as I entered. The girl’s little brother, a toddler about one year old, was wandering around. When he saw me at the door, he approached, reached up and made a grimace, as though saying, “I’m tired, please pick me up.” The older teenage sister was in the living room as well. Maybe 16 years old, she was on the couch with her perhaps-boyfriend. No adults were present. Thick cigarette smoke hung in the air in the darkened room. The three of them had been sitting around on the couches while the toddler toddled. Where was my daughter? The older sister went to yell for them.
When the girls appeared Council was dressed entirely in her friend’s clothes. Gasping for air, I said, “It’s time to go.” “But I haven’t finished my piece of birthday cake!” she protested. I thought about how cigarette smoke masks the smell of pot. The three teens in the living room just sat there, listening to the loud music. The windows were all closed, the blinds drawn shut. I felt like I was going to suffocate.
That morning we had received a number of phone calls in succession from this friend, starting at 8:00 am. She wanted to know when Council would be coming over. River walked there with her and dropped her off at 9:30. Upon his return I offhandedly, and jokingly, asked, “Did you make adult contact?” He paused. No, he said.
I was astounded—I had assumed the parents were home. River said maybe they were. I said, “But did you see them with your own eyes? Do you really know?” He admitted that he really didn’t. So he called and spoke with the teenage daughter who was apparently in charge. No parents home, she acknowledged. But, she told him, her mother was out getting a cake, and should be back any minute. Oh, that sounded fine, River said. Case closed.
I pointed out that we had no way of knowing if or when the mother was going to return. Around 11:30 River decided to call again. He asked to speak to Council this time. The mom had apparently never showed up. I grabbed my cell phone and headed out to pick up Council before he was done with the call. He called me almost as I reached the house; he said it was fine if Council’s friend came home with me. It seemed better than leaving them in the care of the older sister.
I got them both and we walked back to my house. The girls were bubbly, excited. They had been watching a movie the entire time since Council had been dropped off. I set the girls up on a blanket outside with a snack and juice on this beautiful day; River ordered a pizza.
That morning my neighbors, Jose, Brian and Luis, had been playing with new cap guns. Each of them brandished a tiny black gun and incessantly shot them at each other in their driveway. Occasionally they would climb to the top of their fence and shoot at my children. Council and her friend dressed up as fairies as we waited for the pizza to arrive. The boys climbed their fence and shot at the fairies. A few times, we told them we don’t allow guns in our yard—keep them in their yard, River told them. Still we heard the perpetual loud popping as they shot the guns at each other. Later, the family erupted in some massive argument, kids crying, tension everywhere. The poor kids seemed so bored. I figure it’s pretty bad when all you have to do is shoot pretend guns at each other. Then again, my own boys were playing with light sabers made of found sticks.
As the afternoon wore on, a large family dispute broke out at the multi-family house two doors down. This was at a house where I often overhear many domestic yelling matches. On this day, two young gentleman were shouting at each other in their yard; then it drifted into the street in front of their house; then it drifted down the street in front of my own house. Twelve or 15 people were in the street, all of them visitors or relatives at the house. Two little girls watched, crying, as the two young shirtless guys shouted, cursed and threatened each other. In the street in front of my house, I saw through my upstairs window that a sole young woman was trying to keep them physically apart as they stuck their chests out at each other proudly, yelling and pointing. She was overpowered by them and they began shoving one another. I wondered if anyone was packing, and if it might not be wise to stay away from the windows. I thought about calling the cops. I was glad my kids weren’t watching. The girls outside cried louder. Someone on the sidewalk picked up the youngest girl. Finally a couple of older men in the group calmed the two guys down without any punches being thrown, and the street cleared, with a few threats hurled back and forth as the group went separate ways.
Throughout the incident, the boys next door were shooting their cap guns in their driveway.
We ate our pizza lunch in the back yard and a couple of hours later, Council’s friend got a phone call. She spoke to her sister. Cake had arrived. The girls jumped for joy and asked to go back to the house. Assuming the mother was there, I said okay. Again River walked them to the house. Again he did not make adult contact. He said he asked the sister at the door if the mom was home, and would be there for a while, and she said yes to both.
But by the time I picked up Council at 5:15, after three hours at her friend’s house, there were no adults. I asked her friend, was your dad ever here? No, she said. Did your mom bring home the cake? No, it was the sister. Where were the grown-ups? Her dad was working; her mom was off doing something else. They’ll be home tomorrow, she said helpfully.