SDJ:1 - Track Meet; Cop (March 29th)

Sacramento Dream Journal: Entry 1 (SDJ:1)


3/29 -

At a high school track meet, a field of runners in an 800-meter race approach the turn where I'm standing, just off the track.  They are running clockwise, and will hit the straightaway right after they pass me.  Andy Lim leads the field, running with a relaxed expression and stride.  The rest of the pack looks tired.  

As Andy nears, I begin cheering for him along with those standing around me.  Running past us, he turns 180 degrees mid-stride and begins running backwards.  This revs up the entire stadium of spectators, who begin roaring their approval along with our group of supporters.  Kelly stands to my right, and I turn to her and say "We must be Sophomores, because Andy was a Senior when we were Sophomores."

Just ahead of the turn at the end of the opposite straightaway, Andy - followed by the rest of the field - turns right off the track and continues running along the long-jump track, toward us.  The crowd erupts again as he turns around and does a series of back-flips; essentially doing a gymnastics floor-routine in the process of winning a race.  Kelly and I can only shake our heads in disbelief.  "Andy is amazing," I say.

Earlier -

I'm at Towers Elementary School, standing behind the closed metal gate that separates the school's front entrance from it's parking lot.  There is a large gap - perhaps three feet high - between the concrete and the bottom of the gate, and I'm looking through that gap out into the lot.  A cop is standing out there, although I can only see him from the knees down - the bottom of his navy slacks and his black work boots.  

Suddenly, he hits the ground hard.  Someone has shot him in the head.  As he lays sprawled on the asphalt, I begin speaking to him about something I remember my Dad telling me years ago.  "I guess there were certain 'hoods that cops stopped going to," I say to him, "because they'd get calls for help from people who'd be hiding behind a wall that a single brick had been knocked out from.  They would just pick off cops through the hole."

The cop doesn't seem to be paying any attention, so I turn around and begin walking across the soccer field towards the ice plant-covered hill beyond.  I cross the field, climb a thin dirt path that snakes up through the ice plant, and emerge into a residential neighborhood to the West of the school.

As I'm walking, it occurs to me that talking to the officer about people shooting cops might have been a little insensitive, considering the fact that he'd just been shot in the head.  There haven't been any ambulance sirens yet, either; so maybe I should try to find someone with a cell phone.

On the sidewalk up ahead, a man is walking North down the hill that I'm heading up, so perhaps I'll tell him what happened and see if he's willing to make the call.