I was having this really weird dream. This guy who looked like Tom Savini with his skin burned off (and who had a brother in a similar condition) was trying to start a relationship with a girl. He loaned his classic Mustang to her teenaged brother, who prompty crashed it. (News footage of another kid, whom the teenager ran over, and footage of a shocked-looking teenager.)
I edged toward consciousness, but I was still asleep. Then I heard a gunshot. I woke up. I thought I must have dreamed it, since I was still in the grey zone. Okay, I’ll go back to sleep. I didn’t go to bed until midnight, and five in the ayem is too early to get up. Then there was another shot. Ar? I didn’t dream the last one. But this is Birch Bay! A quiet little seaside village full of old people and Canadians. Surely, that was just a car backfiring. I’ll just lay here a bit. But… Is that a voice I hear?
- Another shot. No mistaking it this time. Okay, where are they coming from? I thought I heard movement outside. The birds were chirping loudly. Could the movement just be a jay in the trees? I’d better not lie here anymore. I put some clothes on (since I was starkers in bed) and took the long way round to the living room. I don’t keep any loaded guns in the house, but I knew I had some hollowpoints in a magazine. I took the PPK/S out of its case, removed the empty magazine, checked that the safety was off, and put the charged mag in. I didn’t chamber a round.
Though I’d heard the noises out back, I went out the front door. And listened. I heard the inarticulate male voice again, somewhere on a nearby road. Which one? I walked through the yard of the house (actually a single-wide trailer) next door to the back. I listened for voices. I heard them, but couldn’t make out exactly where they were coming from. Could have been Maple, could have been Cedar.
Now, in L.A. there were plenty of people to call the police when somebody was shooting. Up here? Well, probably half of the houses are vacant in the off-season. Could someone have been hunting? Not likely. Sure, you get duck hunters in the bay whose boats stray a little too close; but that’s off Birch Point – not in a neighbourhood. I’d better call the cops.
I dialed 9-1-1 to report that I’d heard three shots and an inarticulate male voice coming from around Maple or Cedar. When I hung up, a vehicle sped down my street. I went outside knowing that by the time I made it to the road it would have made it to the bottom of the hill (remember, I’m a very short walk from the beach). I heard tires squeeling as it went in one direction or another along the shore. I talked to 9-1-1 Man again, but all I could report was that a vehicle went past my house at a high rate of speed, I saw its headlights through my curtains, and that I heard squeeling tyres.
So now I’m up. A Sheriff’s deputy will probably be here soon to take a report. I have to shoot some video this afternoon, and I’m also helping to schlep the set pieces. I hate waking up to gunfire. In L.A. I’d just go back to sleep. Up here, it’s a little more unusual. So much for sleeping.
Two deputies just came round. I told them what I heard. The speeding vehicle might have just been someone late for work. They’re going to look around the neighbourhood.