Another Night in Garfield

Last night at approximately 23:30, I hear a loud crash. I look out the window, expecting to see a car accident in the intersection outside my house. I see nothing. I walk outside.

Female Neighbor (FN) was outside and says someone crashed into the "church", meaning Core Crossfit across the street. I look around and see nothing. 

I walk to the corner and again see nothing. I turn around and immediately realized my poor hearing had deceived me. She really said "truck", meaning MY truck. 

A 20-something Caucasian Male (CM), wearing all black, lacking any helmet or protective gear is lying on the ground amidst his large Harley motorcycle and pieces of both my vehicle and his bike. I ask him if he is ok and if needs me to call for medical help. In a panicked yet bloody fashion, he responds "no please don't call the cops".

He then stands up, presents his faded black backpack with outstretched arms and asks Male Neighbor (MN), "Can you hide this"? MN and the entire group decline his request. CM proceeds to call his girlfriend and says, "I crashed you gotta come pick me up." 

At this point, I go inside to phone 911, reporting both the medical emergency and the potential illegal activity. 

I return to CM who then requests that we help him move his bloody motorcycle out of the street. When CM's strength gives out, I finish lifting it up and engage the kickstand. At this point CM admits he needs medical attention. While I am obtaining water and towels as prescribed by the 911 dispatcher, CM decides start stumbling south on 9th St, presumably to ditch his backpack and flee the scene. FN andMN do nothing to stop this. 

Shortly thereafter, the fire truck and ambulance arrive. I tell them the injured party has left the scene and pointed in the general direction of his departure. During this 30 second exchange, a motorcycle cop and 3 police SUVs arrive. All public service vehicles immediately scatter, shining beacons down the streets and into the alleys. 

Standing by my smashed vehicle, I patiently wait to make sure CM's apprehension and general well being are secure. 3 minutes later, Officer Brooks (OB) returns to the scene and reports that "they have found an individual who is not under arrest and may or may not be related to this incident". OB requests that I go ID the individual. 

I ride shotgun in the police Tahoe for approximately 1 city block. I then provide positive identification of CM who is now unconscious on a stretcher with his clothing being cut away. 

After CM is rushed to the hospital, Brooks and another officer return to the scene determined to find the backpackabout which CM was so paranoid. Phones and flashlights in hand, FN and I, along with OB and Tucson Native Officer (TNO) aka Officer 2 search behind walls and underneath bushes. The officers locate it 2 minutes later, "hidden"  in a driveway. They proceed to search the backpack and conveniently choose to deny any further conversation about said backpack. 

Again returning to the scene, OB requests that I positively identify the backpack. I affirm. 

While waiting for the tow truck to arrive and tow away CM's motorcycle, complete with expired plates, OB and TNO keep me company and converse casually about the likelihood of heroin in CM's system as I cut away my hanging-chad-style bumper and mudflap and sweep the wreckage out of East McKinley Street.