I live in the country ... between two very small towns. Now, our house is not particularly isolated, there being houses just down the road from us on both sides but, we look across the road to miles of farm fields and behind us ... the same. The road we live on is a fairly busy one, being the only way between points A and B. This big, old house was built on the site of the original house on the property and I'm quite sure that there was very little traffic early on. Things have changed and this road is busy and the house is really too close to the road for my taste but, when we scored this monolith back in the early '80s Oregon was in a recession and it was a steal ... and I am not kidding .... 4,000 sq. ft. on 25 acres for $120,000. What? So, we bought this money pit and began to raise a family.
But, I digress. The subject I'm going to talk about is this busy road out front. Because of the traffic and our high profile close to the road, we might as well have a sign on our house that says, "GOT PROBLEMS? STOP HERE" We have had everything from the folks who are lost and looking for an address to teenage joy riders whipping around our paved, circular drive, and on to various serious incidents with auto accidents, etc. We actually had a drunk driver leave the road at 100 mph and hit one of our outbuildings thus killing one of her passengers, paralyzing another and badly injuring herself. That one was by far the worst and very traumatizing to my young children. We've heard the screaming when teenagers ran off the road, we've had very sketchy people come to the door wanting to use our phone and well, you get the picture.
So, last night at 10 p.m. when the doorbell rang and no car had pulled into the drive, my husband and I looked at each other with that 'uh oh' look. (Paranoid much ... why yes we are.) And, this particular incident certainly didn't disappoint in the weirdness department. Although, having said that, I'd rather have toddled off to bed without it. Alright, so back to the story. A hysterical woman was at our door, looking a little worse for wear and soaking wet from walking in the rain. She whispered (yes whispered) "Call 911, he's trying to kill me." Are the hairs on the back of your neck standing up because mine were? I grabbed my phone and as my husband talked with her I dialed the police. I was asked about her mental state .... um hysterical, her name ... which we finally got out of her, where she'd come from, etc. and then I was told it would be awhile as they didn't have anyone available. WHAT? For all we knew, some armed psycho was right behind her. I told my hubby to go ask her if this guy she was so afraid of had a weapon and she said no so, whew. She would not come inside, was hyperventilating and then rambling. She sat on the porch while we waited for the police. And then, after all that, she wasn't there. That's right, she took off. We didn't know which direction as it is very dark out here and it was raining. The police finally came and said they would look for her and that they were going to the address she had claimed to have come from. And that folks, is all we know. I know, right? Nothing like not getting to hear the end of a story.
I mean .... I really, really could not make this stuff up. And to think, people think it is quiet out in the country.