Friends in all sizes

On a previous post, I mentioned I would tell you how I met one of my younger neighbors.  I hear a lot of noises in the breezeway of my little studio apartment.  Sometimes muffled conversation, the mailman and maintenance people coming and going, but most of the noise comes from the staircase... bumping, things dropping, laughing, crying (sometimes, the children cry too!).

When there is laughter on the staircase, I usually know who is creating the noise that always brings a smile to my face, because of the way I met her.

Soon after moving into this apartment, I was still adjusting to the new and different noises and getting aquainted with new neighbors.  I barely knew anyone except the manager and her husband who is also the maintenance man.  I also knew my neighbor across the hall because she is the mother to friends of my sister in law's mother.  (I'll have to write another blog of how they have blessed my life recently.)

One night, I had just drifted off the sleep at about 11pm when a knock came at the door.  Since it is such a small apartment (about the size of a hotel suite), I can call out from my bed "Who is it?" and usually hear who it is.  A clear voice rang out, "It's me".  I jumped out of bed to answer the door for my niece (okay, I hobbled to the door) when it dawned on me, my niece was 11 at the time.  No way would she be at my door that time of night, or somebody in the family would be with her, or call first, something! 

I asked again, "Who are you?"  "It's me... can you please open the door?"  I looked out the peephole, nothing.  Tried a different question, "What is your name?"  Na-TA-lee. Sounded a little slurred, about the age of 13-15.. female.  I replied, "I'm sorry, you have the wrong apartment".  I heard her knocking at other doors, so I got back in bed, dosed off again and woke up to another knock about 11:20pm.

This time she was begging to come in.  Again, I thought the speech was a little slurred.  It sounded like she was trying to cover up by talking very slowly and distinctly.  My paranoia kicked in. My mind went back to living in a 2nd floor apartment at this same complex about 30 years ago.

That time, it was a teenage male who said, "You don't know me, but I need to come in and use your phone".  Long story, short... once he knew I was awake, he wouldn't go away.  He refused my offer to call someone for him, he refused to go to the fire station next door, or the convenience store down the street.  He really started to scare me.  He would knock at the other 2nd floor apartments, but never the first floor.  He would leave our section only to return.  His knocks and pleas to come in my apartment intensified and he was standing to the side of the door, so I couldn't see his face through the peephole.

I went to my bedroom, locked myself in and called the police.  The dispatcher could hear him banging on my door and wouldn't let me hang up until the police arrived.  A few minutes later, I heard a voice yelling, "What are you doing?  Get out here now... I said, NOW!!!!"  It turned out, this was a teenager driving his Dad's brand new truck while drinking.  He had wrecked the truck after jumping the curb and slamming into the chain-link fence at the back of our parking lot. 

The manager told me the next day, that this guy had been in every section of all 3 buildings, knocking at only 2nd floor apartments.  The voice I heard calling him downstairs and away from our building was an off duty security officer who had recently moved in to the complex and had been called by another tenant.  The police were actually at the door of a girl I had known in college, who was very athletic and had her baseball bat ready for the guy if he knocked her door in!  The police department had received about 3 calls and were already on thier way when I called.

Poor kid, I bet he didn't get to use his Dad's car for a while after that. 

(Side-note: I know how much trouble I got in when my Dad met up with my Old Testament professor who asked how I was feeling?  Yep, me... skipping old testament class.  Dad didn't mention anything about it, but a few days later I called to borrow the car and my Mom told me Dad was not there, but she could guarantee I wouldn't be borrowing the car for a loooong time.  She informed me of Dad meeting up with the professor.  Just one disadvantage of going to college with your Dad!)

Anyway, that is why I was a little paranoid about this girl at my door.  The age, what sounded like slurred speech, the continued return to my apartment.  On the other hand, it broke my heart.  She sounded exhausted.  I could hear her body slide down to the floor beside my door, "please, please, let me in".  I could hear something scraping against my door.

I called the police and explained I was new to this complex and although I didn't feel in danger, I was unsure about opening my door to a young teenager at this time of night.  They said they would send someone to check on it and hung up.  A few minutes later I heard an adult, female voice saying, "Are you locked out?" and then suddenly a male voice at my door saying, "Grace, are you okay?"  I opened the door knowing the male voice was our maintenance man and then could hear the his wife (the manager) upstairs talking to an adult saying she thought the girl was locked out.

The manager came downstairs and listened in as her husband explained they intercepted the police call from the scanner.  He was telling me I did the right thing and his wife was nodding behind.  She told me the girl was not locked out, the door was wide open.  She was just bored and decided to go visiting.  Apparantly, she kept returning to my door because I was the only one that was responding to her.

They left and I realized I didn't ask the girl's age.  The next day, I met up with my neighbor across the hall who let me know that Natalie had been in her apartment visiting earlier that night.  She said they visited and watched TV for awhile.  She gave her a plastic cup with some peanuts to snack on and then told her it was time for bed and sent her back upstairs.

She went on to tell me she was glad the manager had been able to intercept my call to the police, she didn't want the little girl to get in trouble.  I finally asked how old the girl was...  "5 years old".  I was shocked and felt horrible that I had not let this little girl into my apartment for safety.  What if she had gone outside and wandered away? 

Later, I found out she was dressed to go outside.  She had her jacket on and apparantly some of the scratching I heard on my door was the zipper to her jacket and then the empty plastic cup that held her peanuts.

About 2 weeks later, there was a bag of cookies attached to my door with a note from Natalie and her mother, along with thier apartment number.  Her mother and I were aquainted soon after and now we have each other's phone numbers, just in case.

The reason I thought I was hearing the voice of a teenager speaking very clearly and distinctly at an attempt (I thought) to cover slurred speech, was because she had never been talked to like a little baby.  As soon as she could talk, her family spoke to her in regular voice.  Just like my niece!

I constantly have to stop talking "baby talk" when I tell my about something cute she said or did as a toddler.  Otherwise, she will start talking back in the same voice which wouldn't make her very popular as a 7th grader!

Natalie now knows that I am the lady that wouldn't let her in my apartment, but she also knows that if she needs anything she can come to my door.  When I first met her, I apologized and she said, "Oh, it's okay.  I understand."

When she sees me, she always something to say, some story to tell me and always a smile that just makes my day.  She is almost 2 years older now and still brings "laughter in the walls".

(Laughter in the Walls is a book written by one of my favorite authors, Bob Benson.  It was a thin book of easy reading, and as I recall mostly about his children.  He was a quiet gentle man who could say so much in so few words.  I wish I had his talent.  He would have written this story in about 4 paragraphs, maybe less.  Most of his books are out of print now, but if you ever see this one, grab it.)

Here is an excerpt from the book that someone else posted and says it all....  too soon children grow up.  All the rooms are empty, but the laughter and memories are still there.
http://www.cathye.com/dadlaughterinthewalls.htm

And a song, for my friend, Natalie... "I am a promise (I am a possibility)" by the Gaither Trio
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lL3adt7K58M