We had just finished dinner when there was a knock at the front door. It was a young woman, very agitated. She made gestures and sounds, but appeared unable to speak. I gave her a pen and a notepad; she wrote a garbled message that indicated she had been attacked in an attempted rape, and she pointed repeatedly to the street corner to the north of our house. I stepped outside with her and asked and wrote on the notepad if we should call the police. I did not get a nod or any intelligible reply, so I went ahead and dialed 911.
I waited through several recorded messages for a response, and then told the woman who answered what was happening. She asked me for the name and description of the apparent victim. I replied that I could not get coherent answers from the young woman other than what she had written. I said the young woman appeared to be in her early twenties. She wore a dark top and pants; she was carrying a jacket and wore a billed cap that said "BRONX" on the front. She had long, straight black hair and a dark complexion; to me she looked more Asian than Native American. A backpack led me to speculate that she was homeless, though she was neatly dressed. She did not seem to be under the influence of alcohol or drugs.
While I was on the phone, the young woman paced around on the street and looked like she might leave. The 911 operator told me to stay on the line and that a car was on the way. I motioned for the young woman to sit down beside me on the curb. A police car pulled up quietly about fifteen minutes later.
A policewoman approached and I explained briefly what I understood to have happened. I explained that she would likely need paper and pencil to get information, but she mostly asked questions of the young woman and there appeared to be some communication including gesturing and pointing, though no words from the young woman.
A second car arrived. A tall policeman walked over to us and asked me for my ID and my phone number. The young woman pointed to the back of her hand which seemed to have a small injury; the policewoman said that it appeared she had been in a fight. The policeman asked for my ID and my phone number, and then told me nothing more was needed of me, indicating that I should go back in the house.
I could see the policeman's flashlight through the blinds; it seemed they spent a long time at the curb with the young woman. I sat at my computer and looked at the news of the election. When I looked again, all were gone.
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We had just finished dinner when there was a knock at the front door. It was a young woman, very agitated. She made gestures and sounds, but appeared unable to speak. I gave her a pen and a notepad; she wrote a garbled message that indicated she had been attacked in an attempted rape, and she pointed repeatedly to the street corner to the north of our house. I stepped outside with her and asked and wrote on the notepad if we should call the police. I did not get a nod or any intelligible reply, so I went ahead and dialed 911.
I waited through several recorded messages for a response, and then told the woman who answered what was happening. She asked me for the name and description of the apparent victim. I replied that I could not get coherent answers from the young woman other than what she had written. I said the young woman appeared to be in her early twenties. She wore a dark top and pants; she was carrying a jacket and wore a billed cap that said "BRONX" on the front. She had long, straight black hair and a dark complexion; to me she looked more Asian than Native American. A backpack led me to speculate that she was homeless, though she was neatly dressed. She did not seem to be under the influence of alcohol or drugs.
While I was on the phone, the young woman paced around on the street and looked like she might leave. The 911 operator told me to stay on the line and that a car was on the way. I motioned for the young woman to sit down beside me on the curb. A police car pulled up quietly about fifteen minutes later.
A policewoman approached and I explained briefly what I understood to have happened. I explained that she would likely need paper and pencil to get information, but she mostly asked questions of the young woman and there appeared to be some communication including gesturing and pointing, though no words from the young woman.
A second car arrived. A tall policeman walked over to us and asked me for my ID and my phone number. The young woman pointed to the back of her hand which seemed to have a small injury; the policewoman said that it appeared she had been in a fight. The policeman asked for my ID and my phone number, and then told me nothing more was needed of me, indicating that I should go back in the house.
I could see the policeman's flashlight through the blinds; it seemed they spent a long time at the curb with the young woman. I sat at my computer and looked at the news of the election. When I looked again, all were gone.
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