The next time I almost got kidnapped came the summer before I went into the 6th grade. My mother, brother, and I moved into Cris’s place. Cris was my mother’s boyfriend at the time, and 3 years down the road, husband. We moved into his place, because through the courts, we lost our house to George, my father. Cris welcomed us into his home, at least kinda. He liked me at the time, but not so much of my brother, but that is a story for a different time.
I didn’t have friends in the area yet, so I just rode my bike around the neighborhood. On the southeast end of this small neighbor had a double retention ditch. If you don’t know what a retention ditch is, I will explain it. It is used for floods. It is a large bowl in the earth that typically has a stream of water running through it and leads to storm tunnels. The purpose if it rains hard, these will hold a large amount of water, preventing massive floods that were seen in the 80’s in Tulsa. They typically have a track around the top of them. Always seemed like the gravel on them were kitty litter.
This one on the edge of my neighborhood had two ditches combined. Two large circles met in on their edges in the middle of the park. I was hanging out on the one that was connected to most of the neighborhood. I was just sitting on the track that was over the tunnels that connected the two ditches with the stream running through it. My bike was next to me. I like going there, it was peaceful, and I was able to do a lot of thinking there.
I looked up and across the ditch on the road that ran alongside it, a green late 90s model Camaro was parked and a man leaning on the side of it. He was blond, wearing jeans, and some type of shirt. Had sunglasses on, and his head was pointed in my direction. I had a feeling before I lifted my head that I was being watched.
I first thought, naw. He is just here to probably think too. But I just didn’t feel comfortable. I got up and moved to the other side of the other ditch. Away from the line of sight. Figure if my first hypothesis was correct, I wouldn’t see the guy again, unless I rode back over to him. I posted up now where the creek ran into the ditches. It took only a few minutes, but there he was. He moved his car to the next street over to be in line of sight of me. He parked and got out of his car, and leaned up against his car again.
I then threw my hypothesis out the window, and came up with a new one. He was there for me and I needed to get home. I decided to ride my bike on a road that paralleled my neighborhood, but didn’t connect to it. It went north and south. I went from near 15th street in Tulsa Oklahoma, to 11th street. I thought if I saw him pull down this road from 11th, I had multiple ways to get away. There was a property that was still a bunch of trees, but a trail that led towards Memorial. Or I could turn around and ride back to the Double Ditches.
I didn’t see him and I got onto 11th road up it and back into my neighborhood. Then I heard screeching of tires behind me. That green Camaro turned back into my neighborhood from 11th street. FUCK
I had to think quickly, and chose the first thing that came to my mind. I turned my bike around and faced towards him. I started pedaling as fast as I could towards his car. My thought was, if I got close, I could pop my bike up and throw it into the windshield of the car and run and try to hop fences of the houses near me. That wasn’t the plan of the driver. He slammed on his breaks, put his car into reverse and floored it until he was on 11th street. Drifted his car to align with the right direction which the traffic would flow and took off. I turned around and rode as fast as I could back home. I don’t remember if I told my Mom or Cris that I was being followed or not, but I knew I was out of danger. I never saw that car again.
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