So as I was running with Charlie last night, I was reminded of an incident that happened very close to this time last year. Charlie actually made me think of it, because a jogger running the opposite way got a little too close for Charlie’s tastes, and he started growling and snarling. This comforted me. I’ve never lived in a bad neighborhood, but there’s a reason I like to go jogging with a dog..
When I was in the BitterHouse, I used to run alone at Maple Hill Cemetary. I’d head out about a half hour before sundown, turn my iPod on, and jog to my heart’s content. As the seasons turned, I neglected to account for the change in sunlight hours one night, and it fell dark much earlier than I had anticipated. Not only is it unlawful to be in the cemetary after dark, but it’s kinda scary. And I LOVE cemetaries. I was jogging my regular route when I saw something ducking behind a headstone in front of me. I was trying to maintain my pace, so as not to let this evildoer know that I saw him, but I swear, I almost had a heart attack. I neared the gravestone, still jogging, and having turned my iPod off (although still in my ears), so I could hear him approach. I was running through every self-defense thing I’d ever known. And I finally got close enough and was ready to fight for my life.. when I saw it. It was a mylar balloon, half filled with helium, that the wind was knocking around behind a headstone.
I felt a little silly.
But I decided from that point on to not jog in the cemetary and to take our 80 lb dog, Nala, with me. Nala had gone through four levels of obedience, a few levels of agility.. and Delle’s ex-husband took her jogging every morning, so she was good at running alongside a person. She was also a large dog with a fierce growl, so I figured I would be safe.
One night, I was out jogging. It was dark, around 9 or 9:30, and was running along the sidewalk next to Maple Hill (this had become my regular route). It was the last night of Fall Break, and kids were tearing up the streets, trying to get the most out of their last weeknight of freedom. I was running along the stone fence to the cemetary when a dark figure jumped out, knocking me to the ground.
My guard dog, Nala, took off.
I rolled on my back so that I could adequately defend myself, when I heard a male voice. The dark figure moved toward me on the ground and, instinctively, I jammed the heel of my hand up into his nose. I heard it crack. And then, to my utter surprise, I heard, "OHMYGOD, DUDE, SHE TOTALLY BROKE YOUR NOSE."
And this "attacker" started crying. Bawling.
Turns out, my "attacker" was one of three fourteen year olds that thought it would cool to scare people by jumping out of the cemetary. He wasn’t a rapist, he wasn’t an attacker at all.. he was fourteen.
I just beat up a fourteen year old was all I could think.
"We thought it would be funny!" said the one that wasn’t bleeding profusely from the whole in the center of his face.
"DO YOU SEE ANYONE LAUGHING?!" I said.
And then, the injured pre-teen laid down the law with: "I’m gonna tell my momma on you."
I was in shock. Completely. "Yes, please," I begged him. "Go home, tell your momma that you thought it would be FUNNY to jump out of a dark cemetary.. unlawfully, I might add.. and lunge at a young woman jogging. Tell her that, and then show her your nose. Please. And if she wishes to speak to me, I’m at 1017 Locust."
By this point, Nala was inching her way back in, once she saw that I was upright and no immediate danger was to follow. My right leg was completely cut up, and I had a bit of blood on my right fist.
But I’ll put money on the fact that those kids NEVER set foot in that cemetary again.
