Moving Out Day!?

This is hopefully the LAST of the 'crackheads' postings... to read the full story, please click on the 'crackheads' label on the lower left of the screen! read from the bottom up, starting with It Couldn't Happen Again - COULD IT?

The much-awaited end of the month had arrived… A touch earlier than I had hoped for, but alas it was here. Lying in bed, wishing I had closed the window before I fell asleep, I stared at the clock as I had so many other early mornings. 4am. If I’m awake enough to look at the clock, chances are I’m awake enough to know I have to use the toilet. With every day my bladder becomes even smaller it seems. I could hear muffled talking from outside, and curiosity getting the better of me I decided to use the lou and check out the conversation floating into the street below.

Before my decent down the stairs I peered out the upper window. The sidewalk was alive with quick moving shadows. Once downstairs, I opened the slats of the kitchen window, and listened carefully. The usual angry banter between Eddie and the girl floated up… “What the fucks your problem EDDIE?? I’m just trying to HELP!” “Don’t fucking touch that! Just go away!!” “Whatcha gonna do now?? Hit me???!” Bored with the dialogue I tried to go back to bed, laying awake for over an hour…

8am arrived with a loud crash coming from the suite below. A myriad of voices; yelling, screaming and crying traveled their way up the heating vent to our bedroom. Downstairs the air was thick with the sweet smell of crack smoke. It hung heavy as did yet another disturbing argument. The girl was screaming at Eddie, telling him she was trying not to piss him off, but didn’t know what it was that she was doing to make him mad. Anything that came from Eddies mouth was hard to understand aside from words like “stupid bitch” and the “C’ word. The argument heightened to the point of physical violence and the floor shook under my feet. “Get your hands OFF ME!” SMASH – BANG into the wall. I could hear the faint voice of a child in distress and then Eddie screaming, “Release my SON! RELEASE MY SON!” The girl screamed back, as did the child. You could faintly hear Elvira, the wife, yelling in Filipino to Eddie. “Go play outside! GO!” Eddie yelled at his son and not 3 seconds later all hell broke loose (like it hadn’t already??). The worst of the physical fights I’d heard from below ensued as Eddie began beating on the girl. Her wails rang high pitched and loud, echoing up through the floorboards… then the cry’s for an ambulance began. “Call a fucking ambulance you fucking bastard! Call an ambulance!” While down, I guess he’d kicked her hard in the stomach. I ran upstairs to find Zol leaning over the side of the bed, his ear tuned into the heating vent. He too had heard every word. “I think I need to call the cops hun… she’s yelling for an ambulance…”

Dialing 911… “Police, fire or ambulance?” “Um… police then ambulance?” I was transferred to the ambulance line and immediately hooked up with a nice dispatcher. I gave her the low down… I could just see her shaking her head as she took the call. After giving the information needed, she kept me on the line as she transferred the call to the police dispatch that said there was a squad car enroute to our house already. Staying on the line with dispatch I continued with the situation at hand. “So you say the wife is pregnant AND useing drugs?” “No, not the wife, the girlfriend and yes, she’s a full on crack addict.” “Oooooh. OK. And the wife is there as well?” “Uh, yes. It’s a pretty horrible situation.” She took down names and asked about the children and if there were any weapons involved. When I told her the police had pulled up she let me go. Two cops screeched up in their squad car and made their way into the house. The fighting calmed. 10 minutes later I could hear the girl in the carport yelling to Eddie, asking if she could take his cigarette lighter. Looking out the kitchen window I saw her below, weaving back and forth in a drugged up haze. Her hooded jacket was pulled over her head, a half smoked cigarette butt hanging from her cracked lips. The green lighter flickered on and off as she attempted to light the smoke, which then dropped from her mouth as she yelled to Eddie again that she was going to take his lighter. She paused, scanning the ground for the lost smoke, nearly losing her balance as she bent to pick it up. “I’m taking your fucking lighter you fucking ASSHOLE!” The two children stared at her, as did Eddie’s wife as she stumbled away yelling, “Have a nice fucking life EDDIE!” As if that was the last he’d ever hear from her again…

The cops left but were back again later when the girl returned with the same arguments and screams. The day continued on for us… waffles for breakfast… yelling from downstairs... coffee sweetie? Don’t mind if I do!
The next day was peppered with Eddie and the girl going in and out of the house. With his family moved out he now had free reign of the place to use as a crack smoking den. 9pm. The smell was unbearable. We called the police yet AGAIN, this time we hoped would be the last. Four police officers showed up, one banging on the door, the other three each on a window. Enraged the girl began to scream, “STOP YOUR FUCKING BANGING GOD DAM IT!!!” finally the door was opened and the police now inside swarmed them. 15 minutes later a policewoman was at our door handing over the basement suite key, telling us to change the lock ASAP. I spoke with her for a while; she shook her head with sympathy. After they left Zol told me of the conversation he’d heard from the kitchen window while I spoke with the policewoman.

“Ya! It was pretty cool! While I was in jail I heard the baby’s heartbeat!!” “That’s great Tina, just great… you take care OK?”

The police left, as did Eddie and the girl. One last call to the police today brought a nice officer in a squad car to chat with me about the stolen scooter in our backyard. Knowing it was an expensive piece of stolen property; we had no idea what to legally do with it. In the end, after checking the records for stolen goods he said it was ours to do whatever we wanted with. Donate it, scrap it, sell it, use it… We chatted for a while, the officer shaking his head telling me how Eddie and the girl take up way too much of their time and he wouldn’t wish those two on anyone! I shook his hand and thanked him for all of the help the police had been these last few days…

I stared at our garbage bin, now filled to the hilt with crap and beside it a stewn pile of discarded clothing. Strangely enough a wilted red rose lay on the ground amidst the trash. The afternoon was coming to its end and hopefully with it, the thorn in our side, otherwise known as, the basement suite tenants...