Naked Guy and The Intern

*not his real name

I wrote this story early one morning almost 18 months ago, but I never blogged it because I didn't want to be the cause of any negative ramifications for Dylan*, who lived with us while working as an intern at Fortress Youth Development Center. I've been reminded of the story a couple of times in the last few days, and I'm thinkin' enough time has passed now to share the fun....

When I went to bed at 2 a.m., Dylan wasn't home. Darren and Aidan were out of town on a Cub Scout camp-out. Dani was asleep upstairs. Ian was sleeping on the couch. He had BEGGED to sleep on the couch, and I had let him fall asleep there. At the last minute, as I headed upstairs, I decided to go ahead and carry him to his bed. This is noteworthy, because 1) I knew he'd be mad when he woke up in his own bed after I told him he could sleep downstairs, and 2) he's heavy and I'm lazy.

At 3:30, Dani was awakened by two guys "yelling at people". I sleep like a rock, and didn't hear anything. At 4:00, she came and woke me up, saying, "Mom, I think something's wrong with Dylan. He's being really loud and knocking stuff around in his room. And I heard someone banging on the piano [downstairs]." She had knocked on Dylan's door, and when he told her to come in, she opened the door to see him standing there naked.

"I told him to be quiet 'cause I have to take the PSAT in a few hours," she explained to me. "Then he started shouting to 'other people' that they need to be quiet, then he whispered it, then he started saying 'I am God, I am God'."

"Stay here [in my room]," I told her. I went downstairs to see if anyone else was in the house and immediately noticed that our front door was standing wide open. I turned around to take a quick inventory of our TV, computer, etc. The neighbor's backyard light shines right through our family room window, which created a perfect silhouette of a naked guy lying on my couch. I was furious that Dylan was sleeping naked in my family room! I flipped on the light and immediately recognized that it wasn't Dylan.

"Who are you?" I demanded.
He jumped up, naked, and asked, "Who are you?"
"I live here. You're in my house. WHO ARE YOU?"
He kept repeating, "Who are yooooooooou?"

I realized that he must've come home with Dylan, and my first thought was that he was from the homeless shelter. (Dylan spends a lot of time volunteering there). Turns out, he was an old high school friend of Dylan's who was in town for the weekend.

"Where's Dylan?!" I asked.
He replied, "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God."

I walked to the base of the stairs and yelled for Dylan to come down. He didn't, so I bounded up the stairs and threw open the door to his room. He jumped up, startled, and said, "We're on LSD. Oh no. Oh God."

"I'm about one second away from calling the cops if you don't get your naked friend out of my house. Get your clothes on and get downstairs."

Meanwhile, I went downstairs again, where the naked guy was still standing in the family room. I said, "Either get some clothes on, or get upstairs. I don't need to see your naked butt in my family room." He kept saying that he was dead, and that dead people don't wear clothes.

I called Michael and asked him to come over. (Remember, Darren was out of town.) While I was on the phone with Michael, Naked Guy kept walking up to me, asking what was happening. I kept telling him to cover up. He followed me all around asking me if God was playing a joke on him. He'd tap me on the shoulder, and when I'd turn around, he would be in my face - almost nose to nose with me - asking, "Is this real? Am I dead?" Eventually, I walked him out the front door and locked it. He didn't protest or try to walk back in or anything. He just let me lead him right out the door. Naked Guy seemed really scared of me, which I thought was funny. Then again, I was LIVID, and I guess he could tell. I was extremely angry that Dylan had brought a guy to my home in this condition, and I was so very angry at Dylan for using drugs in my house. Also, I had just sloshed through a huge puddle of pee in my kitchen, which REALLY pissed me off.

I called Dylan's parents, who live about an hour away, and told them that Dylan was tripping on acid, and that I was evicting him, and that they needed to come get him. They said they'd be on the road in less than 15 minutes.

While I was on the phone with his parents, Dylan started smashing stuff upstairs (throwing pictures frames from the walls of the stairwell - breaking glass and knocking off a big chunk of plaster from the wall high above the window), which scared Dani to death. Thinking that Dylan was either coming after her for ratting him out, or that he was wigging out on me, she took a phone into Ian's room, locked the door, and called 911. Then she called my cell phone and said, "Mom! I just called 911. I'm sorry if I shouldn't have done that." I was proud of her, actually.

Meanwhile, Naked Guy started breaking into houses on my street. At one house, he was standing in the dining room muttering, "I'm in Hell" when the homeowner walked in and threatened to release his rottweilers if he didn't turn around and go right back out the window he'd just climbed through. At another house, the homeowner met him with a shotgun and said, "Get off my property before I blow your head off." Within minutes, there were cop cars everywhere. They arrested Naked Guy across the street from my house. I have to admit, it was pretty funny seeing this naked kid walking down the street with his hands cuffed behind his back and his jinglejangle flopping in the breeze.

I asked them to go upstairs and get Dylan as well. They said they couldn't, because he lived here and was allowed to be here. I said, "Even though he's tearing my house apart?" They said they couldn't do anything. I questioned, "Even if he has illegal drugs in my house?" Nope. "You can't search his room?" I pressed, "This is my house, and I'm giving you permission to search his room." They said that he had the right to a reasonable expectation of privacy, and they wouldn't search his room. I was so frustrated. Dani and I both argued with them pretty hard. Michael went down the street and talked to them too, and they gave him the same answers. "If he were out here, you wouldn't arrest him?" They said they could get him for public intoxication, so I offered to drag him out in the street for them. "Ma'am, we don't want you to do that. If he's doing acid, he could be a threat to the citizens." Uh, yah. That was kind of my point, seeing as how he was UPSTAIRS with my CHILDREN. Stupid laws that protect the guilty really piss me off.

Michael went upstairs and tried to make Dylan put clothes on and come outside. He had to send him back up twice because he came down naked. He finally came outside wearing boxers and a t-shirt and joined Dani and me on the porch, where we were watching Naked Guy be checked out by EMTs. (He'd cut himself up climbing through a broken window.) At this point, there were 4 police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck sitting in front of my house, and neighbors were starting to appear on their porches in the pre-dawn light.

Dylan sat down and talked to us, and had moments of what seemed like clarity, where he'd say, "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I did this. I love you guys so much. You mean more to me than anyone. Why did I do this?" Then he'd go right back to talking nonsense. I'm telling you now that if there was EVER anything that would benefit Dani as far as making her determined NOT to try drugs, it was seeing Dylan in this tripped-out state. It was funny and heartbreaking at the same time.

"Oh my God, did we kill somebody?" he asked in a panic.
"I don't KNOW, Dylan," I exclaimed. "Did you?"
He couldn't figure out why there would be so many cops unless they'd killed someone. He asked Dani to go inside because he didn't want her to see him like that, but she refused. "You don't get to ask me to go inside," she said. "You woke me up at 3:30 in the morning. I have to take the PSAT in a few hours. You don't GET to ask me to leave." He said, "Okay." A couple of times, he said he was cold and wanted to go inside, and I'd say, "Sit down. You're not going back in my house." And he'd say, "Seriously? Okay." And he'd sit down. It was so weird how he could be violent at one moment, and totally compliant the next.

Dylan continued to hallucinate, and talked about how beautiful everything was. He'd say, "This is so beautiful. No. no. This is bad. Very bad. Beautiful. It's beautiful. No. It's bad. Bad." But every once in a while, he recognized reality. Eventually, he said he didn't want his friend to "face it alone", and he walked down to the police car, where they arrested him for "public intoxication other than alcohol". His dad got here before the cops left, and was able to see Dylan for a minute. He said he didn't blame us a bit for calling the police, and in fact, that if Dylan had come into THEIR home in this state and started breaking things, they'd have called the police too. He was really very nice about it.

Ian slept through the WHOLE THING. And let me tell you... there was a lot of noise in my house that night. I thank God that he was safely in his bedroom during all of it, and not downstairs in the middle of the commotion. (Especially since Naked Guy ended up on my couch!) Dani and I cleaned up all the glass (oh my GOSH, it carpeted every step of my stairs - tiny shards all in the carpet and everywhere) and mopped up the kitchen before she left for her PSAT. In a weird, surreal way, it turned out to be a neat bonding experience for us, so I'm actually thankful for THAT. Considering the circumstances, she did pretty well, but was 3 points shy of being "commended", which disqualified her for some scholarship opportunities. I think she's still pretty mad about that!

Dylan walked home later that day after being released from jail, wearing his t-shirt, boxers, and a pair of paper pants the jail had given him. He was very apologetic and promised it would never happen again.

"It shouldn't have happened at all," I said.
"I know. I'm sorry. I would never put your family in danger."
"But you DID put us in danger," I replied. "You put me in danger. You put my kids in danger. You put my NEIGHBORS in danger."
"You're really evicting me?" he asked.
"I really am. I have to. I can't risk this happening again." It was the hardest thing I've ever had to make myself do.

The following Monday, while at the police station giving my report, a neighbor I'd never met asked me if I was okay. I said, "Oh, I'm fine. He only broke picture frames at my house; I'm so sorry about what happened to yours!" (He'd had a huge picture window destroyed when Naked Guy heaved a planter full of flowers through it.)

"I'm not talking about your house," he continued. "I'm talking about YOU. The police told me that it was a domestic dispute." I'm sure my eyes must've bugged out of my head! "What?" I exclaimed. "It wasn't! My husband wasn't even in town!"

Turns out, Dani's phone call was registered as a domestic dispute call. It went something like this: "The guy who lives with us is breaking things and yelling, and my Mom is downstairs with another guy who I don't know!" Yep. Sounds like domestic problems to me. I'm horrified when I think about what the cops who showed up first must've thought: "Wow. This middle-aged chick has a teenage daughter, a live-in 22-year-old boyfriend, and another 22-year old on the side?? What a classy lady!" roflol. I straightened it all out, though, and our record is now clean again.

And now, 18 months later, I think we're ready to host an intern again. It's been pretty boring around here lately. ;)

home invasion

I had just rolled over for a few more minutes of snuggle time when both boys marched into our bedroom and announced,

"Mom, the cat has been BAD."

I imagined mounds of cat yack on the bottoms of my curtains, piles of cat poop at the base of the stairs, and other bad-cat shenanigans.

"She took a loaf of bread to the family room and it's all over the place. Aaaand, she tore into her cat food and ate the whole bag!"

Darren and I looked at each other and both said, "That's not the cat."

I was scared of what we'd find. Mice? A rat? A squirrel. Remember the bird? The possum story flashed across my mind, too. Darren headed downstairs to see if we'd left the back door open and something had walked right in, but a quick check assured us that wasn't the case. It was latched and locked.

As I worked my way (timidly) down the stairs, I immediately realized that strange things were afoot at the Circle K; the cat was not on my heels, nor was she underfoot herding me to her empty food bowl as she does every morning without fail. No, she was cowering in my bedroom, budging nary an inch. Weird.

The first place I looked was the family room. Sure enough, there was a bread wrapper with a large hole chewed in it, and bread crumbs strewn about everywhere. I ambled to the kitchen, where Darren was staring curiously at the wall high above the refrigerator; it was covered in muddy paw prints. A bifold door that we'd taken from the entry to our laundry area and stored between the fridge and the wall was on its side in the middle of the kitchen. I have no idea how we didn't hear it come crashing down in the night; our bedroom is situated directly above the kitchen.

The cat's food dish was empty, which isn't unusual, but her water bowl was full of dirt, which IS. Also noticeable was a bag of cat food, torn open and EMPTY. We couldn't figure out what did it, or how it got in.

Suddenly, Darren remembered something he'd read recently. "Raccoon!" he shouted. "Down the chimney!"

When I opened the door to the front room, the stench of animal urine greeted me. Sure enough, there were puddles on the hardwoods. Pictures, a plant, and books were knocked over on a table. Across the room, we discovered more paw prints, this time on boxes and rugs and other piles of garage sale stuff I've been collecting from closets and cabinets and storing in the corner of this room. There were also prints on the window sill.

These prints were much clearer than the muddy prints in the kitchen, and from my recent Crime Scene Investigation escapades at Fortress (I never blogged about that, did I?), I recognized immediately that the intruder was a raccoon, and that it had been tromping through fingerprint powder. Or not. Perhaps it made more sense that is was soot.

And sure enough, it was. Newly fallen sand, leaves, and pebbles dusted the logs in the fireplace.

I snapped a few pics, cleaned up the urine (which was ORANGE. Disgusting.), got ready for work, and left Darren to handle the rest. As I left the house, the cat was still cowering upstairs. What a waste of an animal that cat is. She acts like a guard dog when we have invited guests, and yet when a raccoon invades at night, she cries like a girl.

Or maybe she protected us. After all, there was no evidence that the raccoon ever made its way up the stairs. Whatever the case, Ashlie the Cat was a fraidy cat this morning.

I only hope that when the raccoon perched its paws on the window sill to look out over Magnolia Avenue, there were no neighbors jogging by, or walking their dogs, or heading to work in the predawn hours. "Those Kocurs are a bucn of riff-raff. First Naked Guy, now a pet raccoon."

Never a dull moment around here. I can't make this stuff up.

Me, at 37

1. IF YOU COULD BUILD A HOUSE ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD IT BE?
A little west of here, where the bluffs fall down to the Trinity River, and the backyards tumble down and overlook the miniature train bridge that crosses the river. My boys would SO love that.

2. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE ARTICLE OF CLOTHING?
My gauchos from Target. I cannot TELL you how comfy they are. I own 'em in three colors now. :)

3. FAVORITE PHYSICAL FEATURE OF THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Laugh. Yah. I love a guy who loves to laugh. It makes his whole appearance mo betta!

4. THE LAST CD YOU BOUGHT?
Beatles' White Album early last spring. Dani was learning to play "Blackbird" on guitar, and since I couldn't buy it on iTunes, I had to go buy the whole CD. (Yippee!)

5. WHERE'S YOUR LEAST FAVORITE PLACE TO BE?
on the receiving end of someone's senseless diatribe

6. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE PLACE TO BE MASSAGED?
My feet, I guess. Don't touch my shoulders or back. I hate that.

7. WHAT'S MOST IMPORTANT, STRONG IN MIND OR STRONG IN BODY?
Gotta say strong in mind. This year, I watched several people fall apart. One was robbed of his family. He had to remain strong in mind to survive the ordeal. His strong body was of no help to him. Another was robbed of her innocence. Her strong body didn't do a thing for her, but her strong faith and strong mind saw her through. Another went off the deep end emotionally. Physical strength isn't gonna bring that person back; only strength of character, naked truth and sheer will can do that. And God.

8. WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING?
First, around 8:30 when Darren kisses me goodbye. I don't usually drag my lazybones outta bed until after 9, though.

9. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE KITCHEN APPLIANCE?
My red enamel colander. Oh. That's not an appliance? Who cares. I'm sayin' it anyway. That thing makes me happy. :)

10. WHAT MAKES YOU REALLY ANGRY?
Prejudice.
Ignorance.
Lying, thieving cheats.

11. IF YOU COULD PLAY ANY INSTRUMENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Guitar. Still. Someday I gotta make that happen. So I can play with my daughter. :)

12. FAVORITE COLOR?
Red. Bright red, dark red. Melon red, rusty red. Do not care. I love red.

13. WHICH DO YOU PREFER, SPORTS CAR OR SUV?
HEEE!! Have you seen what I'm driving lately?

14. DO YOU BELIEVE IN AFTERLIFE?
Absolutely I do. At my funeral, I want this song to rock the rafters: "If you miss me singin' down here and you can't find me nowhere, nowhere, just come up up to bright Glory. I'll be singin' up there."

15. FAVORITE CHILDREN'S BOOK?
The Runaway Bunny by Margaret Wise Brown.

16. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON?
Fall! I'm already yearning for its arrival. I love its holidays, its aromas, its warmth. I love everything about it.

17. IF YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPER POWER, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Huh. To see the future, I suppose. I wanna know that my daughter's gonna be safe when she starts dating and driving and everything else that this next year is gonna bring.

18. IF YOU HAVE A TATTOO, WHAT IS IT?
I'd love to have a tattoed wedding ring on my finger. But it'll never happen.

19. CAN YOU JUGGLE?
no. Never tried, actually. But I have a photo of Darren in college, juggling apples. lol!

20. THE ONE PERSON FROM YOUR PAST YOU WISH YOU COULD GO BACK AND TALK TO?
Grandma Mildred. I wasn't as bold back then as I am now. I needed to be bold with her.

21. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE DAY?
Thursday. I always know I'll get to see my gurlfrenz on Thursday!

22. WHAT'S IN THE TRUNK OF YOUR CAR?
The back of my Xterra as you read this is LOADED FULL with a week's worth of clothes for the 5 of us, non-perishable food to take to the cabin, linens, cameras, games, and speakers pounding out some good tunes!

23. WHICH DO YOU PREFER, SUSHI OR HAMBURGER?
Hamburger! Made by Darren. I hope I remembered to take the TexJoy seasoning to the mountains....

24. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CARTOON?
I love me some Bugs Bunny. As far as comic strips, nothing has ever been as good as Calvin and Hobbes was.

25. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE MEAL?
Bring-your-own-meat barbecue in my backyard, lots and lots of friends, corn on the cob and loaded baked potatoes. Followed by homemade ice cream.

28. If you could only choose one fantasy servant, who would it be (chauffeur/gardener/cook/masseuse/other)?
Personal Assistant to make trips to the PO, do the grocery shopping, water the plants, taxi kids to school, and answer the phone.

29. FOUR WORDS THAT SUM YOU UP: faithful, task-oriented, outgoing, creative

30. FAVORITE PIG-OUT FOODS: buttered popcorn with M&Ms thrown in at the movies, chips and guacamole, cheddar peppers with ranch from Sonic

31. THREE OF YOUR EVERY DAY ESSENTIALS: love from my family, cell phone, cold water to drink

32. THREE WAYS YOU'VE BEEN BLESSED: 1. Darren. My GOD, thank You for Darren. He is my rock, my tire swing, my daily special, my differential. :D 2. my KIDS. Have mercy. It's really unfair to the rest of y'all that I've been blessed with the world's three most beautiful, most talented, most loving, most enjoyable children. :D 3. my friends. I really can't have enough. God keeps giving me more and more.

33. WHICH OF THE FOUR HOBBITS ARE YOU MOST LIKE? How funny. Obviously, this quiz was written during Lord of the Rings mania. But let's see. I guess I'm more like Frodo. Task-oriented. Faithful. Rule-follower.

34.WHAT'S YOUR BIGGEST PERSONALITY FLAW? I've become less apt to sit idly by and more inclined to stand up for myself and those I love. It's not ALWAYS a flaw, but it can be. And has been.

35. HOW DO YOU COPE WITH STRESSFUL SITUATIONS? I call on someone wiser than me for advice and direction. After I have a good outburst.

36. ARE YOU HAPPY ON THIS BIRTHDAY? I'm joyful. Truly. My newest mantra is "Choose Joy", and I am. It has made all the difference.

(I answered this same quiz on my birthday in 2005.)