Tuesday, March 13, 2007

A Sunday Evening with Pepperspray

It was the end of a long, relaxing day. That morning begun around noon, following an eventful night, and consisted of waiting for my friend (who we’ll refer to as R) to call so I could pick her up. Daylight savings reared its head to skew our timing, but after a brief tour of a local mall, we met and spent the day chatting about music. When it was time to drop her off, so enthralling was our conversation that we were loathe to part, and continued for some time. Next occasion we are to chat at length, I will pick a better place to park.

You see, we were parked out front of a fairly… disreputable SkyTrain station, as it is the closest to my house. I have never had a problem, so I never gave it consideration I will from now on. It was shortly after 10:30PM that R and I heard a chilling scream from just outside the car. We paused, dead silent, minds racing. The scream… it was so similar to the playful scream I’d heard so many women utter that I couldn’t be sure. What should I do?

A long second passed.

In a flurry of action, R and I threw the car doors open and jumped directly into a cloud of pepper-spray. I immediately cover my face with my hands and duck behind the car, caughing, spitting, and squeezing my eyes shut. Useless with my eyes closed, I quickly put the Club on the wheel, pressed the automatic lock, and bolted toward where I heard the scream. I opened my eyes, taking in the scene. Lamplit shadows played over the concrete and brick surfaces of the parking lot. I glanced to the right to catch a glimpse of two men running away at great speed, silhouetted against the mall lights. One wears a black, padded jacket with a fur-collared hood. In front of me I saw R, cloaked in the shadow of the rail lines, reaching two asian girls. On the left, one slowly slumped to the ground, the other remained standing. Both held their eyes and cried pain. I ran toward them.

R told them we were there to help, the standing girl replied that two men had followed and then attacked them, unprovoked. I gathered the sitting girl (Dorothy) while R helped the standing girl (was her name Mei?) and began moving toward the corner store across the street, seeking a place to wash their faces. They were completely blind, stumbling over each step, crying madly and helplessly. R and I had to hold them up, slowly guiding them across the street. Arriving at the store, I quickly explained the situation to the clerk, who (correctly) suggested using milk for cleansing and asked us to go around the corner so that the pepperspray did not spread throughout the store. Purchasing the milk, I re-joined the girls and helped R splash it on tissues so we could wash Mei and Dorothy’s faces.

It was incredibly emotional, holding Dorothy, attempting to somehow comfort her (“it’s allright, it’s allright”). There was a heartbreaking moment when I glanced up from Dorothy to catch R’s eyes, seeing the worry, the concern, and the strength in them as she comforted Mei. I realized we couldn’t really help these girls with what we had on hand, so I called the 911. Emergency services immediately dispatched units to help us, and (incorrectly) suggested water to treat pepperspray-afflicted skin. The corner store’s clerk came by to drop off a carton of milk to help out, free of charge. I was hyper-alert, watching for both emergency services as well as anyone who stepped too close.

At this point I noticed a searing pain in my hands and asked R how badly she had been hit. I could see it in her face, a reddening of the skin around her eyes that looked too painful to bear. She professed to be in manageable pain, and I the same, so we returned to helping the girls. I traded my jacket to Mei as hers was badly coated in the spray.

A fire truck arrived first (I’m told they always do) and I flagged them down. The two men calmly came out of the vehicle with medical kits and started looking over Mei and Dorothy. R and I huddled together off to the side, sharing warmth. A Police vehicle arrived shortly after, and one officer took our information then briefly questioning me. I told him what I could (“we heard the screams and came over”… it sounds like a Dane Cook skit) but re-directed him to Mei for any details. It turns out two random guys were following the girls from the skytrain station, then peppersprayed them and I can only assume intended to mug them... or worse. They probably only ran off because R and I appeared right next to them so fast.
After the situation was explained, the Police officers (of which there were several at that time) made it a point to thank R and I. Handshakes were exchanged all around and we were told we could leave. We received a tearful thanks from Mei (R got a hug, I was too awkward). After airing out my car from the pepperspray that had been trapped inside, I began do drive R home. I couldn’t put her on the SkyTrain again as she suggested, it seemed incredibly callous.

There's an interesting tension that arises from conflicts such as this. So much adrenaline and so many emotions are running through you at once that when you finally let youself deal with them, they all come out in a rush. At this point you have two options, laugh, or cry.

Cry, and you'll be comforted. This is the expected response, and people know how to deal with it. A shoulder to lean on, comforting words, we all know the clichés. Surely enough, like most clichés, they work.

Laugh, and you'll get a whole different set of reactions. Ranging from raised eyebrows to unbridled hate, the responses are varied and unthinking. This is not the reaction you see on television and people just don't know what's going on. It's a release, same as any other, just a lot less socially acceptable. Oh, and by the way? If you ever find yourself in the same situation, try not to lapse into gigglefits in front of the police. It's just not appreciated.

Last night, R and I were absolutely enthused to find that we react the same way. Luckily we made it to the car before the gigglefits came, and the drive to her house was filled with laughter. We both knew how serious the situation was, we were just shocked at how similar our reactions were and how well it turned out. A quick cup of tea in her host family’s beautiful home and I went to my own house to spend a restless night.

Even as I write this, my hands feel like they’re on fire. They were doused badly when I used them to protect my eyes and received a further dose of the spray while comforting Dorothy and Mei. A friend has informed me that the pepperspray probably faded after a few hours, but it seems that as I did not properly wash the pepperspray from them (preoccupied as I was) some form of nerve damage has occurred. I’ll have to look it up.

Odd isn’t it, that the effects of the story that inspired me to begin writing are nearly preventing me from doing so?

Incidents like this one are probably going to get me killed someday, but if all are equally successful, it'll be worth it. As we drove home that night, there was a sense of elation in the car. We were heroes, though neither of us said as much. The combination of an adrenaline rush and the knowledge that I made a real, significant difference to someone made me happier than I’ve been in a long time. Truly happy.

1 comment:

josh said...

that is pretty awesome that you were able to help out those girls. you were in the right place at the right time. i am looking forward to your future blog posts, but for now, it is off to a great start.