Scott Thomas Outlar
Can I Borrow Some Sugar
I had a neighbor
that came to my door
one day.
He started the conversation
with this:
“If you hear gunshots,
call 911.”
My response was something
along the lines of,
“Uh, OK.”
He went on to explain
how his visiting niece
had gotten involved with
a cocaine dealer,
stole some of his supply,
then skipped town.
But she’d been using
my neighbor’s phone to call the dealer.
So caller-ID betrayed the address
where she’d been staying.
Now my neighbor
was being threatened
by the dealer.
“Don’t worry, me and my brother
will be holed up in the living room
with our shotguns ready.”
This news didn’t make me
feel any better about the situation.
I wondered what would happen
if the dealer drove through
the cul-de-sac and opened fire
on the wrong house,
namely mine.
The dealer did drive through
sometime later, screamed threats
at my neighbor, but never opened fire.
My neighbor called the police,
who showed up, along with the sheriff,
to take down the account.
My neighbor moved out
that same week.
I never saw him or
his family again.
A new group of people
moved into the house.
But, thankfully, they were more into crank.