As I mentioned before, I live in your stereotypical subdivision. Well-manicured lawns, neighbors waving to each other from their front porch, sharing some beer and conversation as they push their strollers up and around the block after dinner. I've joked many times that it feels like what I would call a "Stepford Community." BMW's and Lexus' are a frequent sight driving up and down the street and everyone feels safe leaving their garage doors open. Heck...I even leave my purse in my car AND key in the ignition. Bad...bad...I know.
A new neighbor just moved in next door. Final house is now complete! No more construction!! Woo hoo! I went over to welcome her to the neighborhood. One of her first questions was whether or not we had a security system. We hadn't really talked about it much yet, and rarely used the one in our last house, so didn't really think of it as a priority. She mentioned that a security company's salesman had stopped by and informed her of a string of burglaries that had occurred recently in our neighborhood. I hadn't heard anything and assured myself that it was just the salesman's way of trying to scare her into buying his system. I was playing outside with the kids and saw the neighbor behind me outside talking to another woman who lives down the street. Their kids were outside playing, so I took AR over to play for a bit (the boys were still napping). After the usual smalltalk, I asked her if she had heard anything about the break-in's. Turns out to be true. As a matter of fact, the local news was here a few days ago to do a story on the burglaries. Most of the burglaries were thought to be teenagers - taking purses and money left out on counters, but the last break-in was in the middle of the day. A man was standing in his kitchen when a teenager just walked in his house through the door in his garage. The man chased the teenager out, and when the teenager reached his car he pulled out a sawed-off shot gun. The man then immediately ran back to his home. Smart move! Unfortunately, he didn't get his license plate number, so the punk never got caught.
Then tonight...the doorbell rings. It's a woman I don't recognize. She says she lives across the street and goes on to say (in broken English) how she saw someone walking through our house in the middle of the night. My mind immediately goes to the burglaries and my stomach turns as I'm waiting for her to tell me how she fears she may have spotted an intruder in our home. As she's going on about seeing someone, I'm wanting to wave my hand at her, wanting her to get to the point...anxious and worried about what she's driving at here. She then proceeds to tell me that her husband was beating her. He was beating her inside the house, then dragged her to the front yard and beat her some more, then to the garage where he continued to beat her. During this time, she said she looked around desperately for help and saw that someone was up and walking around in our house - she was wanting to know if either me or my husband had witnessed the beating. I was confused as to why she wanted to know if we had witnessed anything - her accent was so heavy, it wasn't all clear, but I'm guessing maybe as a witness for the police? I'm not sure. I told her that it was probably me she saw, that I walk around at night when I can't sleep (which is often), but that I hadn't seen anything. Which is quite odd considering how nosy I am...I'm often looking out the windows. She asked that we call the police if we see him around, as he has made threats to come back and "get her." I gave her our phone number and told her that if she can't get to a phone and he is there, to flash the front porch light on and off if she can as a signal and I will call the police. It makes me so sad...so sad to think that she was looking around for help, and saw me (or RD) walking around and we didn't see. I then knew why I didn't recognize her, in all the times I had seen her, she never looked up. She would always follow behind her husband (the very few times I saw her) out in the yard, but always had her head hanging down, like she was afraid to look up.
I later felt bad...like maybe I should have invited her to stay at our house if she was scared, but I feel like I just can't put our family at risk like that. It would be different if we didn't have kids, but I have to protect them first. I don't know how crazy this guy is. I do want to help her in any way I can though. RD said he will take care of her yard for her, and I hope to see her again soon - maybe we could invite her over for dinner or help her get out of the house a bit.
Though everything looks perfect around here, nothing's ever as perfect as it seems. You never know what goes on behind closed doors.
