Every night after the curfew hour, M.'s crew members sit on the concrete platform between our side porches to converse, play electronic games on their cell phones, and smoke ziggurats. They linger through the midnight hour. On the north side of my bedroom, I also hear the security guard and his companions conversing outside the compound office, a unit beyond my sister Alice's apartment.

I love lying in bed to the sound of voices outside my bedroom. It gives me a nice, cozy feeling, one of peace and security, knowing that others are mindful of the night while I gently drift off to sleep.