Others are threatened by bears and violent weather. No bears here, but I had to rethink this late-night walk, finally. I kind of got chased around the block late last night. I had nothing but my house key — no phone or anything. My only excuse is that I’d had to work until extremely late, was online with my coworkers for ages, and when I got up I desperately needed to move, since the day had been spent either sitting in one spot or in the car for hours. So I went out to walk around and around the block.

I left my phone behind too because my shoulder felt like it was torn — which happens a lot now when I sit at computer too long — and the weight of the phone pulls on my shoulder.

Anyway, I was a few laps around and then behind me a car was halted at the corner, and I hear water being poured and I thought, oh, no, someone’s relieving himself in the middle of the street. I looked back, and it was too far to see if someone had gotten out of the car, and then I heard a beer bottle hit the street and roll. He was pouring his beer out, I guess. Since this street is an enclosed little loop, and this car (I don’t think) stopped anywhere — as if he’d just pulled in off the main road for no reason — I stood looking at the car wondering. He evidently saw me, and started after me with his car, squealing alongside me, then I did a U-turn, but he zoomed around the tiny block and there he was again before I’d gotten far. I thought there were sufficient streetlamps here but it turns out the yards are very inky black and I was afraid of falling if I ran into a back yard.

The sound of a car zooming around the block in the middle of the night is, unfortunately, a daily thing here so everyone tunes it out: It’s cars delivering papers. They zoom around at unbelievable speeds at approx. 4am.

I ran to where three yards meet, so I wouldn’t lead him to my house. He halted there for a minute, then zoomed away finally.

A memory of when I was five suddenly came to me: My mother told me, one day, to scream. I did so, and she kept telling me to do it again, much louder. She was afraid if I needed to that I wouldn’t be able to scream loud enough.

She was right, as it turned out. Not talking about this night, but once when I was at a gas station, after filling the tank I opened my hood and was checking the oil. As I stood there, a pressure like someone bumping into me from behind happened; then suddenly it grew stronger and my knees were forced against my car — so tightly I couldn’t turn around. It was the car in front of mine, which was backing into me. I tried to scream, tried to thump on the car’s trunk but he heard nothing. I tried screaming again, because it was beginning to hurt and I thought my legs were about to be broken. The driver, an elderly man, finally either heard me or saw me (at last!) in his rear-view mirror. He’d backed up without so much as looking. He didn’t apologize either. I couldn’t yell at him, because I was out of breath. I have noticed this is a shock reaction I get, sometimes; once when my dog was attacked by a pit bull, I could hardly breathe and almost collapsed. My adrenaline’s not working right.

I think all parents had better make sure their kids can scream really loud. They should test them on regular intervals, like smoke alarms. It should be their natural reaction to danger.

Now I keep thinking of whistles, air horns, rocks I could throw, and stuff like that. Of course I’m going to avoid walking quite so late, at least on weekends.