Springsteen Darkness Edge
(Part six)(Concerning Chick Evens, Lorimar Williams and Howe the Police Officer, 1963))
LOOKING cautiously about, Lorimar Williams arose from sitting on a case of bottled beer, in the back of Rice School, about a block away from his house, up on Garnet Street, by the Pitman Store (it was owned by an old Jew that often went to Israel, and had retired a few years back, and sold the store), and he and Chick Evens had went hurriedly out from behind some bushes as the police spotlight shinned on them. The night was warm without a single cloud in the sky, and the stairs were everywhere, and although it was not yet late in the night, perhaps 10:00 o'clock, the police were checking out the neighborhood, Howe, the cop was driving the squad car, and he had a helper (in years to come, he'd get an presidential accommodation for his long enduring work he had done in the most troubled neighborhood in St. Paul, called Donkeyland, where a hundred cars a week were stolen, and driven up and down Cayuga Street and all the crisscrossing streets there about).
Evens was sixteen-years old, and Lorimar, a year older, and they were half snapped, Lorimar made it down the embankment, and his house was right there, he hid in the old porch attached to his garage. The police car drove all the way down the alleyway to the back of the school, and Chick ran like a team of wild horses towards the Pitman store, in the darkness he stumbled by a black sedan in an empty lot that was alongside of the store, and rolled under the car, to hide from the police. A dog jumped from under the car, and when the police shinned the light in that direction, seeing the dog run away into the night, Howe thought: from what?
Ace had bought the case of beer for the boys, and took his share, six bottles, and went to another party-elsewhere. The young man was nervous under the car. All evening he and Lorimar had gone about their drinking, he was in a kind of daze. Now Howe was out of the car, and his flashlight going everywhichway.
In the darkness Lorimar waited for Chick, walked along the edge of his property, looking up he could see Rice School, he looked about carefully and cautiously. He had left the screen-in door open to the patio-porch, in case he had to make a quick run to hide from the police, but they seldom drove up that big driveway onto their property, and surely they'd never tumble down the hundred foot embankment. Howe leaned downward, said earnestly: "I know you're under there, are you coming out, or do I have to drag you out?"
Chick Evens wiggled out from under the car, jumped to his feet, the light came onto his face. "Oh," said Howe, "you're one of the Evens boys, right?" He had known everybody in the neighborhood, and Chick's brother was of course better known, and Howe was just trying to connect the dots, and making sure they were in line.
"Yes," said Chick, "I'm the younger one."
There had been no immediate decision. He had just jumped to his feet, and the other officer, younger officer hurried up to Howe's side, not sure what to do, but eager to do whatever had to be done, so it appeared:
"We're going to take you home, to make sure you get home, I know you're not one of the trouble makers, and we're going to be through street after street tonight, so it is best you stay home, avoid us because if I pick you up again, I'm taking you in, now get in the car and shut up."
He crossed and re-crossed the roads going down to Cayuga Street, even though it was but down a block, and to the right a half a block. When he passed a number of street lamps he slowed down, he saw other faces, familiar faces, Ace was walking home, drunk, and a few of the older boys, the Tashney's and the Hinos all of age to drink. He did not dare think his mind was too blank, too drowsy, and sleepy. "Why not bring the kid in to jail for a night, teach him a lesson," said the other officer in the car to Howe.
"Everybody knows these neighborhood kids drink like fish, we'd be taking them in every night, and I'm looking for the troublemakers." He said, and left it at that.
"Thanks for the ride home, Howe," Chick said as he stumbled out of the squad car and up the fourteen steps to his doorway.
No: 576 (1-19-2010)
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com.
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Bruce Springsteen - Darkness On The Edge Of Town (Paramount Theatre 2009)
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