Crossfire

This is about an event I witnessed a few years back.  Though I scoured the newspapers, I never found out what it was about.  I still recall this event every time I drive through this intersection in Hollywood...

It's Monday night, and I am driving home from a going away party in Los Feliz. Back at the party, the guest of honor requested a photo with me, and I fell apart in sobs just as the flash popped. My behavior signaling that my time at the party had come to an end, my soon-to-be-missed friend announced "why don't we walk you to your car now." Driving along the darkened city street, my sobs have subsided into a sort of disconnected melancholy. The "Cure-ish" playlist on my iPod providing an apropos soundtrack. The first chords of Modest Mouse's "Invisible" prompt me to turn the volume up. Red light at the corner of Western and Melrose, I have allowed my eyes to glaze over until I am greened, and I whisper "You're not invisible inside your car/No matter what stupid sort of mission you're on..." like a depressed backup singer for Isaac. My listless eyes register the light has changed, and I offer them bribes of a future sleep sleep to focus on the road.

There is only one car ahead of me, but I have yet to move. I am searching my steering wheel to locate the seldom used horn when a white sedan swerves from somewhere behind me at about 80 miles per hour, careens across the street, up onto the sidewalk and screeches to a halt narrowly missing a storefront. A nano-second later the passenger jumps out of the car and escapes down the road on foot. My eyebrows have barely had time to form themselves into a furrow when swarms of cop cars come from every direction and surround the errant vehicle. Cops emerge from everywhere, guns drawn and ominous, some of them close enough for me to touch through my car's open windows. I am suddenly reminded of all the newspaper articles I have read about similar situations in which innocent bystanders were shot in wayward crossfire. For some reason I have never been able to fully picture this; somewhere in my naive mind honestly believing those not involved were ushered to safety before the bullets fly. How foolish I have been!

It is so surreal, like I am watching some new-wave technology television that puts the viewer directly in the action. I am literally surrounded by rifle-wielding cops using the doors of their cruisers as shields. But I am not in a movie. This is live action, totally real-life drama happening all around me. My car is locked in; I can't drive away, and there is nothing in this world that will get me to leave my car on foot. It is a coping mechanism I have had since pretty young to try to escape "unpleasant circumstances" by viewing them as though a distant observer, and what is happening right now is no different. I know that doing so is quite dangerous as I won't be focused enough if I need to act in an emergency, so I struggle to maintain focus now amidst the shouts of officers, the echoing of gun shots, and the roar of the helicopter circling above.

As quickly as it started, it is over. Our good vs. evil scene has concluded with the falling of a fugitive, his lifeless body crumpled in the spotlight of my headlights. Weapons are sheathed as our players exit the stage, and I, the audience, leave the auditorium.