On Fear

Where does fear come from? In most respects it seems instinctive, although it must certainly have a link to evil.  Being scared of the dark and being scared of the darkness. Fear of what we can not see and fear of what we can not understand or fathom. I have some distinct memories of fear from my childhood, and some recent exposure to fear as an adult.


I remember very well, perhaps too well, curling in my father's lap, shaking to my core at the appearance of the Dust Witch in the movie portrayal of Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes. We had rented the movie and the VCR from Palmer video and viewed it in our basement. Although now my watching of the movie is an annual Autumn tradition, the fright I remember is still locked in my mind.

Another memory of fear I have is also associated with that old basement (It was finished, had a heart and body warming pot-belly stove, our "dining room," and toys, so it wasn't scary by nature). This memory, though, is linked to a dream. In my youth I had this recurring dream that a wolf, the most evil wolf, was after me. I can picture its eyes, and fangs, staring through the small window to the left of the stove. What does it mean? What did it mean? Beats the hell out of me, but I remember the fear it elicited.

And now to my contemporary experiences - my current perspective on fear. As stated, I think fear it often related to darkness, to the unseen. Several years ago, early in my quickly lengthening career, I had an unforgettable call. It was just after 3am (see, there it is again, nothing good happens at 3am). My partner and I responded to a noise complaint on the other side of town. We arrived within seconds of each other and observed a dark, two story dwelling with a light on over the side porch. We approached the porch with some caution, observing the signs of a party as we neared. The odor of beer emanating from the yard, red solo cups strewn across the lawn. Ok, I got this figured out. Some underage kids having a drinking party on a Friday night (which became Saturday morning). The black and whites appear and out go the lights. Pretend there is no one here - that'll work, they'll never know! I wasn't wrong - I just wasn't right either.

As we awaited the upstairs tenant, I got that feeling - you know the one where you feel someone is watching you, and the little hairs on the back of your neck stand-up - that one. With my head on a swivel, I caught the silhouette of someone just as the horizontal slats of the wooden blinds fell closed again. At least I knew there was someone in that rear room. We entered a small vestibule with a door to the left, a door to the right, and stairs ascending to the second floor apartment in front of us. Ascending the stairs with an eye on the foyer, my partner and I accompanied the caller to the upper entry to her apartment. "I'm scared!" she explained. "I just moved in and they are moving out so I don't want to even bother them, but I'm scared." Scared of what? a few underage kids getting shit-faced? To each their own I guess. Ok, we got this. Well just talk to them, wake up some parents, finish this thing off for the morning.  "I am going to go and stay with my parents, if that's ok," she went on. Even better. My partner escorts her out and now it's on to the downstairs interlopers.

Knock, knock, knock. . .Wait. . . Bang, bang, bang (Why is it always in threes? I don't know). Bang, bang, bang - on the door of the rear, "occupied" room. Ok, how about the other door. It's slightly ajar. Cue the hair on the back of the neck again and . . . enter the darkness. Partner has my back, watching the door to the "occupied" room. Enter a kitchen area. Draw flashlight and shed light into this darkness. (An aside - I learned, from television no less, that one of the best ways to look for something is with a flashlight, even in a lit room - it keeps the eyes focused on only what is targeted by the beam). Another good thing about darkness - it heightens our other senses. As I pan and scan, cue the crying. And my brain begins to catch up with the impulses of my sensory system. What am I seeing? What am I hearing? Four or five teens, prone on the floor, hands duct-taped behind their backs. Draw weapon. And try to understand what is unseen. What is in the darkness? What is around the corner? What is behind the other door? Fear.

When my mind catches up we go to work. Get help, set up a perimeter, release the bound hostages. But the evil element is gone. It slipped away out the other side of the house. (They were later caught and convicted on DNA evidence and a thorough investigation and now enjoying good meals, working out, and television courtesy of Dept. of Corrections.) It was later corroborated that upon our approach of the house, when that creeping feeling of being watched fell over me, one of the convicted felons was aiming a handgun at me and my partner. But fear made him retreat. We shed light into his darkness. And I learned a lot about my senses, my perceptions - they doth deceive. 

Fear can be good. It can help us survive (there is the tie to instinct). And if we shed light into its darkness, we can overcome it. What are your fears? Are you afraid of the dark?