Playing Possum

I mentioned once before that my neighbor Carlos is a known gang member. Maybe I shouldn’t say it like that. It’s true that his house has been surrounded by police cars on more than one occasion, and that I’ve seen him standing in the street with his hands on top of his head, but I don’t known any details. Maybe I should just say he’s had some trouble with the law.

Here are the things I do know: he lives with his entire family, including grandparents and children, in a lavender colored house. He has a dog named Chomper. He has a white BMW that he gets his brother to wash and wax once a week. Occasionally he'll come out during the day. He’s always smiling.

Howya doin?
Hey Carlos.

That’s the extent of our conversation most of the times we see each other, late at night, usually when I am out walking my dogs. He bends down to pet them, talks to them like they are babies. We chuckle a bit and then I keep walking.
Last night I was walking up the street. The dogs were sniffing and a white truck with huge monster tires drove slowly up the street. I could see inside: two people, a man and a woman; they were both smoking. I noticed that neither one had cracked their window to let the smoke out, but other than that, nothing odd. They continued slowly up the street and I continued walking. When I got to Carlos' house, I saw him standing out front, his hands resting on top of the gate.

“That look like a repo man to you?”

At first I wasn’t sure that he was talking to me but I looked around and there was no one else.

“Ah” I’m not sure what a repo man looks like, “No?”

He seemed to consider this. He nodded. “I didn’t pay my bill and now they’re after me”.
“Uh-oh”
He laughed at this.
“It was a man and a woman though." I said, " A couple. Maybe they were on a date”.
He laughed at this too.
I laughed too; awkward. We stood looking up and down the quiet, dark street.
“Look,” I said pointing up to the phone wire. There was a giant possum frozen in the middle, 20 feet above us.
“Oh yeah, look at that guy”
“Is he alive?” As soon as I said it, he slowly turned his pointy head and looked right at me, his beady eyes fierce.
“Ooo, he’s mad at you”. He laughed, and put one hand on his belly.
“Yeah,” I said. “He is,” he really did look pissed off. “He’s scary”
“Go on baby, get down from there. Go on”. Carlos clapped his hands.
“He’s still glaring at me”.
“He’s just messing with you, “ he clapped his hands and shook the chain-link gate. It rattled. Just then the white truck pulled slowly down the street again. I froze. Every gangster movie-rap video-drive-by spraying bullets went slow motion through my head. The couple in the car never once looked at us but Carlos stared them down anyway. I stepped behind a tree (like I would be safe there!).
That’s when my dogs finally noticed the possum and started barking. I tried to pull them back. They stood up on two legs and went nuts while I was frantic with a stage whisper. “Daisy! Lester! Stop it! Stop!” They were like barking circus bears.
Everything was in slow motion. Even turning my head. Even blinking my eyes. The white truck passed by and I noticed the tail-lights as it stopped at the end of the street, and then a right blinker. Then everything clicked back to present speed. I looked up and saw the possum waddle forward and across to the telephone pole.
Carlos looked up too. We watched him step gingerly onto a branch and then disappear into the shadows “See?” Carlos said finally, “He ain’t gonna hurt you”.