It was over 30 years ago in a part of town nicknamed Little San Juan

Was driving with my friend one sunny day.

He had seen a friend of his that had owed him money.

He asked I follow him so he can talk with him.

We got close enough for my friend to ask him to stop.

His friend took off like a shot and raced away.

My ride was no rocket, a 20 year old GM two door sedan with a Chevy small block 302.

I drove it like it was a rocket as I do with all things.

This kid wanted to shake me and well that never happens.

It was only a few minutes into the chase, he raced down a long street.

Stopping to talk to a man in his yard and taking off again.

I neared as the man walked right in front of my car.

I stopped.

Leaning down, looking into my car, he told us to leave that kid alone.

My friend said, he is a friend of mine, I just wanted to talk to him, he owes me money.

The man told us to go home.

My friend said you don’t tell us what to do.

The man reached into the car and grabbed my friend and said again to leave.

My friend shoved him off, opened the car door and stepped out,
“Don’t fucking touch me asshole.”

The man backed off and said get in the car, drive away and never come back here again.

We will leave when we feel like it said my friend.

The man approached closely put his hands on my car door,
Get in your car and leave now.

My friend said step away from my door and I will.

They appeared to each be pushing on the door.

Come on man, get in the car, I said.
I’m going home.

They argued over this door, my friend was going on about a friend of his who fell for this once and got his leg broken stepping into a car and again told the man to step away.

They suddenly grappled each other and were fighting.

I placed the car in park, reached for my 10″ knife, unsheathed it and got out of my car.

There was an audience behind the fence across the street, I ordered them to call the police.

They stared at me.

I walked around the front of my car, knife tight and close to my arm.

Steadily I made my way to the two fighting.

A woman’s voice called out, what is happening?

Grab my belt the man replied.

I glanced to the woman, she was now running into the open garage door.

In the garage was a police motorcycle.

I stopped dead.

I yelled my friends name and ordered him to stop.

I returned to my car, shoving the knife inside the center console.

I put the car into drive and was moving it to park instead of leaving in the middle of the street.

The woman by now had brought her husband his belt.

The man by now had handcuffed my friend, drew his gun and ordered me to stop or he will kill me.

I said relax, I am parking my car.

The air was loud with police sirens.

I put my car in park, shut off the engine and waited for what was going to happen next.

I counted 11 police cars and there were more around the corner.

More guns were drawn on me than I could count.

Step out of the car and raise your arms.

I complied.

I do not recall my emotions any longer, they’ve long been replaced by rage.

I was handcuffed and ushered into the back seat of a police car.

The officers were going through my car.

They found my knife.

The man, whom I now guess is also an officer opened the back door of the police car I now sit in.

He leaned down, red, angry, spitting as he told me, “If you ever pull a knife on a man you had better be ready to use it boy,” and adding, “if I ever see you in this neighborhood again I will kill you.”

I only looked back at him.

I sat in that car, watched the reports being made, burning the sights into my mind.

I could hear a helicopter.

There was a fire truck.

An ambulance.

Dozens of officers returned to their cars, dozens maneuvered and drove away, the street cleared.

Hours seemed to pass.

A tow truck arrived and removed my car.

My arresting officer returned to his car, he asked if I was ready to give a statement.

I told him what you just read.

I was arrested for assaulting an officer and charged with AGGRAVATED ASSAULT AGAINST A LAW ENFORCEMENT OFFICER WITH A DEADLY WEAPON.

I never quite understood why I was so composed, calm, nor did I know that my life was heretofore ruined.

Made bail, my friend’s mom provided it, I was broke, again, my car taken.

I think it may have been a week, I got enough together to get my car back.

Called the bondwoman for weeks awaiting my trial, living my last days as a free young man surely on his way to prison.

I said very little, I worked and did my best to put food in my stomach.

No war was to ensue, I felt only shame from then on until this day.

Several weeks later when I reported to the bondwoman as I had to, she advised me the charges were dropped the same day I was arrested, there is no court date coming.

Those words should have brought relief, they did not, the anger and rage I feel to this day, the drinking, the hate.

Hard for a 6th House Mars to comprehend.