"So, what do you think about these crashes?" asked the woman who was obviously a detective. Out of uniform, but in a serious business suit. And an ear bud.

"Yeah, uh, weird, huh?" I answered. As nonchalant as I could.

A bunch of kids had taken up hanging around the kid's house. The kid who was flipping cars. You could never tell when he'd do it, so we had lawn chairs set up on the sidewalk, just kicking back. It was a regular party, after school.

"Look kid, this is serious business. We know the kid in that house goes to the school outside of town. For special kids, you know?'

Now would have been the time for her to pull out a cigarette. But maybe she didn't smoke.

Instead she pulled out her ID.

"Well I'm a special cop, for special kids," she said. "O Division. Do you know what that means?"

"Uh, Zero Division?" I asked, playing dumb.

"Not zero. Capital O. For Other. The Other Division. And after our cameras get done running your faces, I'll bet we'll find out you and your friends all go to that special school, don't you?"

I didn't have a good reply for that one.

"We're going to be talking to all of your friends, and you know what? The first one to tell us what's going on is going to get out of a whole lot of trouble. So you keep that in mind when we meet up again."

The detective looked up and down the street, and at the kids gathered on the sidewalk. She made eye contact with the couple of other detectives working the crowd and gave a nod, and then POOF all three of them just winked away.

This was that kind of pressure I was hoping to avoid.

There was a kid who kept causing car crashes at the same place on the same street. He wasn't even in a car, man. He was only using his mind.

Every so often -- whenever he felt like it -- he'd look at a car driving past his house and flick his hand or jut his chin and the car would veer off and smash into one of the cars parked on the side of the road. Or sometimes flip right over.

That kind of thing just puts unnecessary pressure on the rest of us.