Chapter Eight
A couple of days later, after school, I went out in the sunshine for a while to ride my blue Speed Racer bike on the sidewalk. I saw a couple of my friends skateboarding. Randy and Johnny live four doors down from our house. They were headed for the park, which is bordered all around with old oak trees. At one end of the park is a playground with sliding boards, a sandbox, swings and a merry-go-round to play on. At the other end, there is a wired fence that encloses what used to be a tennis court. Now, there are a couple of half-pipes built for skateboarders.
“Hey Noah,” Johnny said, “do you want to go over to the half-pipes with us?”
“Nah. On Friday, I was skateboarding home from baseball practice and I hit a tree root that was just up through a crack in the sidewalk. I broke a wheel on my board,” I said.
“Did you get hurt?” Randy asked.
“Nah. Just a few scratches. I was wearing pads. But now I have to replace the wheel,” I said.
We talked a while about Rockies baseball.
“The season is about to start. I can’t wait to go to a game,” I said.
“Yeah. I think they have good players this year,” Randy said.
“Carlos Gonzales was a free agent, but before he could get away, they signed him on again,” I said.
“I’m sure glad. The team wouldn’t be nearly as good without CarGo,” Johnny said.
“Maybe we can get our parents to take all of us to a game,” Randy said.
“That would be a blast. Maybe I could catch a ball,” I said.
Soon, those two brothers went on to the park.
When I came in after about an hour, I was hot and sweaty again. Not as bad as when we were loading wood, but still icky. I walked through the mudroom, past the candy apple red washer and dryer. I saw that my parents were sitting together in the nook, talking. They were using quiet tones, but as I walked past on my way to my room, I heard the word ‘money.’
I went to my room and took off my sweaty tennis shoes and socks and swished my damp shirt against my body. The air-conditioning was on so I knew I would dry out soon. I sat back on my bed and started playing Police Procedures. After an hour, I noticed I was fidgeting while I thought of next moves. Maybe hearing Mom and Dad talk about money in worried tones was bothering me.
My mind began to drift from the game and then I guess I fell asleep because suddenly I could see that I was out of my body. It was a strange experience to watch myself walking home from the library one day, wearing my short sleeve Transformers T-shirt and long jeans and carrying a backpack. In my dream, I saw a man I thought I recognized from one of the posters at the police station.
The man had shoulder-length dirty blond hair and had a scruffy beard and mustache. He wore a filthy plaid shirt and jeans shiny with grease. His black tennis shoes looked ratty. I saw myself hide behind greenish-looking lilac bushes, just leafing out. I pulled out my phone to call 911. Officer Chavez answered.
“Officer Chavez, this is Noah Muller. I just saw a man who looks like one on your wanted posters; one that is wanted for armed robbery,” I said. I was trying to speak in a soft voice, but I was so excited.
“Where are you, Noah?” she asked in a panicked voice.
“I’m on Tayler Street, two blocks south of the library. I’m hiding behind some lilac bushes,” I whispered in my vision.
“Stay hidden. Don’t approach the man. An officer will be right there,” said the sergeant.
“Don’t worry. I’m not moving,” I said.
My usual impulse was to disobey an order if I thought I knew best. I moved. I jumped from behind the bushes and took a picture of the man, then texted it to Officer Chavez.
In my vision, the man saw me doing this and began to run after me. I ran as fast as I could, right past an arriving patrol car. I stuck my phone in my pocket. The big man grabbed me and turned in a different direction, dragging me. I dreamed I was kicking and screaming, trying to get away. My backpack fell to the sidewalk. Books and paper splayed out. The officers gave chase, racing through the neighborhood past houses with green lawns and flower beds in bloom.
People walking on the sidewalk jumped out of our way. I saw one young woman in jeans, a T-shirt and tennis shoes pushing a pink baby carriage. She fell to the ground, her arms around the stroller, her head down. The baby screamed. I bit the man hard on his hand and he yelped, flinging me aside. I fell with a thump onto the sidewalk. I landed on my hands and knees and rolled. Right then, I saw an officer jump on the bad guy. Both hit the ground. The officer put his knee in the criminal’s back to keep him still and handcuffed him. He jerked the man to his feet and shoved him in a patrol car. Then he looked to see if I was hurt.
“Are you okay, Noah?” he asked, putting his hand on my shoulder.
In my dream, I was shaking all over, but I was not wounded badly. I had a few scratches on my hands from hitting the pavement, and that hurt. My jeans protected my knees, but they got ripped.
Another patrolman took me to the station where I was again examined by Officer Chavez. I was congratulated for my help. She applied first aid stuff to my scratches.
“C’mon over here, Noah. I want a picture of me standing with a real hero,” Officer Chavez said. I thought she’d be mad at me for not doing what she told me when she said for me to stay put, but she didn’t seem to be. I wondered if she was trying to make me feel better since she had not believed this could happen. I walked over, grinning. I had almost quit shaking, but I still felt kinda scared. I saw a television reporter in the station, asking about another situation. Sounded like she was talking to the sergeant about some report of a shooting in town. She asked Officer Chavez my name, then introduced herself.
“Hi. I’m Brenda Sloan,” the blonde woman said to me. “Mind if my camera guy takes your picture while we talk?”
I was overwhelmed and said nothing.
“Tell me what happened, Noah.”
“I was walking home from the library and I saw a man that looked like one I’ve seen before on a wanted poster,” I said.
“Where did you see the poster?”
“Here in the station, on the wall. I come here sometimes and talk to the officers if they are not busy. I want to be a policeman.”
“Tell me what happened when you saw the man.”
“I called Officer Chavez and told her. I took his picture with my phone. Then he saw me and grabbed me and ran.”
“I would have been terrified. How did you feel?”
“That was it. Terrified.”
“Congratulations on a job well done,” she said as the cameraman filmed.
Other officers shook my hand and patted my back. Mom was called to pick me up. She left Sean and Ozzie at home and came quick. She was shocked.
“Noah, I can’t believe you did such a thing. We will talk about how dangerous that was when we get home. I’m proud of you, though. You helped the police,” she said in a worried tone.
She wrapped her arms around me. That’s when I lost it. I started crying.
Mom kept hugging me and stroking my back and hair.
“You’re safe now. You’re okay. Let’s get you home.”
Officer Chavez handed Mom a box of tissues. She grabbed a couple and started wiping my face.
“Here, Noah, blow your nose,” she said as she continued to stroke my back. Another officer held a little trash can for the used tissues. I began to calm down.
I saw the reporter talking to Mom to make sure it was okay to have interviewed and filmed me.
Once home, Mom called Dad.
“You won’t believe what Noah did today,” she said, her voice still full of worry.
“What happened?” asked Dad. Mom was so excited, she talked loud and I could hear Dad’s concerned response, also loud.
“He helped the police capture a wanted man,” she said. She related the events of the day.
Dad asked to talk to me.
“Noah, you could have been killed,” he lectured.
“I know. But you would have done the same,” I replied.
He then congratulated me on my quick thinking and action.
“What would you like to do to celebrate how brave you are?”
I didn’t think I needed to be rewarded for doing something anyone would do in that situation, but I was not going to pass a chance to do something fun. I heard Sean call my name and popped back into my body. Whew, what an adventure. It was the most detailed dream I ever remember having. But I didn’t think it would happen in real life. I didn’t talk about it to anyone.