Black Noise

“I’m going to go mad if I don’t get some sleep.”   '

    Tracy was having lunch with friends.  She had recently returned from her honeymoon with her new husband, Gary, and this was her first time out. 

     “Poor thing!  Honeymoon not over?”  Jill tried to look sympathetic.  

“Love can be such a terrible burden!” Bethany rolled her eyes.

“Chin up, hon.  It has to let up at some point.”  Amy smiled behind a glass of pinot.

“Amy, careful what you wish for!” Jill laughed.

    Tracy suppressed a yawn.  “None of the above.  He snores.”

    “How bad?” Bethany asked.

    “Bear in the woods bad,” Tracy answered.

    “Do you wake him?”  Jill asked.  

“Get him to roll over,” Bethany added.

    Tracy nodded.  “Temporary fix.”

    “Keep a water pistol on the nightstand,” Amy offered.

    “To do those things,” Tracy mused, “I have to be awake, and Gary gets irritated, and nothing changes.”

    “Excuse me,” their waitress broke in as she refilled water, “I couldn’t help overhearing.  Have you considered a sound machine?”

    “I’m not that familiar with them.  Giselle?” Tracy responded, noting the waitress’s name tag.

    Giselle smiled. “My husband and I are on different schedules, and the sound machine drowns out most background noise.  You get a deeper sleep with fewer interruptions.”

    “That’s not a bad suggestion,” Tracy smiled.  

    “Sleep is so important.  It’s right up there with air.”

    Giselle left.  Tracy smiled after her.

                                                             ~~~

    After lunch, Tracy walked carefully to her car.  She was a little tipsy from the wine and her sleep-deprived state.

“Excuse me again,” Tracy heard a voice coming up behind her.  It was Giselle, the waitress.  “I apologize; I don’t mean to intrude.”

    “You’re not,” Tracy said.  “Did I leave something at the table?”

    "You and your friends left me a generous tip.”  She smiled.  “No, I thought of something as you were leaving.”

    “Oh?”

    “Yes, well, it just so happens I have a sound machine in my car I was going to drop off at the Charity Center.  Why don’t you take it?”

    “Oh, no, that’s all right.”

    “You’d actually be doing me a favor.   My day’s packed; I won’t have time to drop it off.  It’s just sitting there.”

    "And you don’t need it?”

    “Not anymore.”  A shadow swept over Giselle’s features.   “Circumstances changed.”

    Tracy felt a sudden rush of sympathy.

    “You’re sure you don’t want it?”

    “My car’s right over there.  I’ll be right back.”

    “This is so nice of you!” Tracy called after her.

    When Giselle didn’t respond, Tracy assumed she hadn't heard her.

                                                           ~~~

    “What’s this?” Gary kissed Tracy before sitting at the dinner table.  Next to his plate was a box tied with a bow.  

“A little something for you that will hopefully help us both sleep better.”

    “You still think I snore?  I happen to think it’s in your dreams and you only think it’s me.” 

   "Let’s hope this is the last time we ever mention it.”  Tracy gave a half-grin and gestured to the box.

   “I love gifts out of nowhere.” Gary tore the paper aside and read the box.

     “Sleep-Eazzzy, a sound for all disturbances.”  Gary raised an eyebrow.  “Are you calling me a disturbance?”

“Only the best kind,” Tracy grinned sleepily.  “It’s just when you go to sleep, this bear comes out of the woods and . . .”

     “Okay, I get it.”

    “Tonight?”

    “Tonight.”

                                                          ~~~

        “What noise should we try?”  Tracy sat on Gary’s side of the bed with the instruction booklet in her hand.  The machine resembled a tiny spaceship with a speaker in the middle and controls on the outer rim.  There were several colored buttons that represented the different sounds.

        Gary was much more interested in Tracy’s silhouette beneath the sheer sleepshirt.

        “You choose.”

        Tracy recognized the look in Gary’s eyes and the distracted way he spoke.  She had his full attention, just not where she wanted it.

        "There’s white noise, the common one, like radio static.  Then there’s pink, that’s a lower pitch.  Brown noise is even deeper.  Green is like environmental, ocean waves or a stream.  Gary?”

        “I’m listening.”   He was also tracing the curve of Tracy’s back with his fingertips.

        “You are?  Okay, wise guy.  Name your color then.”

        He gently but firmly pulled the hem of Tracy’s shirt upward and leaned forward. 

“Raspberry!”

He blew hard into the small of Tracy’s back.  She shrieked and tried to escape, but Gary had her by the hips.  He pulled her back to him.

“Bet your machine can’t do that.  What do you think?”

“I think you have a sickness.”

He kissed her neck.  “It’s anticipatory disease.”

Tracy closed her eyes.  “And what might you be anticipatory about?”

He nuzzled the crook of her neck, then sought her mouth.

“I want to hear Tracy sounds.”

She didn’t argue.

                                                               ~~~

Tracy woke with a start.

Gary was asleep.  A low rumble from deep in his throat erupted into a roar that ended with a gagging sound.  He cleared his throat and settled further into the pillow.   The low rumble soon began again.

Tracy took her phone as she slid out of bed and tiptoed to Gary’s night table.  She aimed the light at the colored buttons.   White, pink, brown, green.  Black?  She frowned.   She didn’t recall that being mentioned in the booklet.

She chose pink.

A wave of static filled the room.  Gary’s reaction, mid-snore, was to flip over on his side.  Tracy adjusted the volume to what seemed a comfortable level and returned to bed.

She descended into the deepest dreamless slumber she had ever experienced. 

                                                               ~~~

The next morning Tracy opened her eyes to sunlight peeking through the curtains.  She lingered awhile, feeling the smooth, cool cotton of the sheets on her fingertips.  That was just the sleep she needed.  She stretched and saw Gary’s side of the bed was empty.

Tracy rolled out of bed.  When she pressed the pink button on the machine, it didn’t turn off.  She frowned.  The black button indicated it was running.  She pressed it, and the machine quieted.

That’s odd.  

She went into the bathroom, came out wearing a robe.  She took the instruction booklet off the nightstand and slipped it in her robe pocket to read later.  

In the kitchen, Tracy found Gary standing at the sink staring out the window, wearing only boxers.

“Good morning.” Tracy slipped her arms around his bare waist.

Gary jerked away, glowering at her.  “Don’t sneak up on me like that!  What’s wrong with you?”

Tracy backed away.

“I’m sorry, Gary.  I didn’t . . .”

Gary immediately backed down.  

“No, I’m sorry.”  Gary grabbed her in a hug.  “I really am.  I, I just had a rough night.  Dreams.”

“I was about to say that was one of the best nights I’ve ever had.”

Gary pushed her back, grabbing her by the arms.

“Is that meant somehow to make me feel better?” 

“Ow!  That hurts,” Tracy cried.

Gary let her go and stepped back.  

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, then turned away and hurried out of the room.

Tracy watched him go, rubbing her sore arms.

                                                                ~~~

Tracy decided to keep to herself and let Gary work out whatever was bothering him.  She kept busy and tried not to cry.  She’d just finished the last load of laundry and collapsed on the couch. 

She heard a noise and looked up.  Gary entered the room with a bouquet of flowers.

“I am so, so sorry, Tracy.  Can you forgive me?”

Tracy motioned for him to join her.   He laid the flowers on the coffee table and sat beside her.  Tracy turned to face him.

“Gary, are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, I don’t know why I acted the way I did.  I woke up feeling out of sorts.”

Tracy remembered something.

“Gary, did you change anything on the sound machine?”

Gary shook his head.  “I didn’t realize that’s what it was until I woke up this morning.  All night I thought I was in some kind of vacuum.  I remember feeling the pull of it.”

“Should we not use it?  I mean, if it’s affecting you . . .”

“Didn’t you say something about the best sleep of your life?”

"Guilty." Tracy raised a hand. “I’ve never had a better sleep.  I feel like a million . . .”  She stopped.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  We’ll try it again tonight.  This time I’ll know what it is and hopefully it’ll whisk me off to dreamland with you. Then we can feel like two million . . . whatever.”

Tracy hugged Gary, relieved.  

                                                           ~~~ 

“What color sound do you want?”  Gary propped himself up on an elbow.

“Let’s listen to each of them.”

“Why didn’t we do that in the first place?”

“You were being anticipatory. Remember?”

“Do I . . .” Gary leaned in close to Tracy’s lips.

“Pink!”  Tracy laughed, pushing him away.  “Last night was pink!”

“Ah, the vacuum cleaner, I remember.”   He turned to the nightstand and pressed.

“That’s the common white noise.”

“Hmm, fine.  Next?”

“Brown?”

“Deeper, I think.  Also fine.  Next?”

“Green.”

“Ooh, very nice.  But kind of wavy, I wonder if when you’re asleep, you’d notice . . .”

“Well, then there’s black.”

Gary pressed before Tracy could say anything.  She felt herself gently pushed and falling back.  She slowly drifted down, down into a darkening expanse that made her think she was in her mother’s womb, safe and warm.  She felt completely at peace.

What she didn’t realize was a length of vine from within the void had found her.  It wrapped its stringy tendrils around her neck and tightened.   She tried to pry her fingers under it.   As she fought, the vine snapped upwards like a bungee cord, and she flew at an impossible speed to the surface.

Gary was above her, his features a mask of furious determination.  His hands gripped her neck.  Tracy clawed at his face, trying to reach his eyes, but to no avail.  She snaked her hand down her torso and grabbed Gary’s groin.   She squeezed with every ounce of strength she had.  

He screamed and, in a single motion, pushed away from her, his hands cupping his crotch.

She rolled off the bed and landed on the floor, coughing and gasping for breath.  When she was able, she ran from the room and grabbed her keys on her way out the door.   She never looked to see if he followed her.  She started the car and peeled out of the driveway.

                                                                      ~~~

Giselle pulled into her parking space.  She was checking her appearance when a loud knock made her jump.   She rolled down her window and faced a wildly hostile Tracy.  

“Oh boy, look at you.”

Tracy tried to speak, but her voice failed.  

“This is what I was afraid of.   Get in.”

Tracy stood where she was.

“I’ll explain if you’ll get in the car.”

Tracy still hesitated.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tracy, unconvinced, got in the car.

Giselle gave her no chance to speak.  

“I see it’s happening again.  You have anything serious?  Should I take you to the hospital?”

Tracy’s voice wouldn’t come.  She’d planned to attack Giselle; instead, tears streamed down her face.  All she had was a dry whisper.

“What. . . what . . .”

Giselle shook her head.  “Whether you choose to believe me, I swear I didn't think it would happen again.  I thought, hoped, it had ended with . . .”

In the silence that followed, Tracy set some of her animosity aside. They spoke at the same time.

“I’m going to tell you everything.”

“Tell . . . me. . . every . . .”

“I’ll get out of work, bring you something for your throat.”

Tracy nodded.

“Then we’ll get out of here.”

                                                                ~~~

Giselle told Tracy about discovering the sound machine at a garage sale.  She and her husband, David, were also newlyweds and frequented sales and consignment shops to save money.   What she’d told the lunch group was true, she and David had conflicting work schedules, which is why the machine seemed a perfect solution.   

“For me, it was a dream come true.”  Giselle winced at her own choice of words.  “I’d never slept better.”

“Dead,” Tracy's voice was slowly coming back, “to the world.”

“Exactly.   Meanwhile, David was having his soul sucked out of him.”

Tracy stared at Giselle.

“By what?”

“The monster in the machine.”

Tracy shook her head.

“What happened to you?”

Giselle kept her eyes on the road as she lifted her shirt to show Tracy a blood-stained bandage taped down her back.

“Thirty stitches.”

Tracy felt the bruises on her arms.

“Where’s your husband now?”

“In the machine.”

“What do you mean in the . . .”

“Probably where yours is, too, right about now.”

Tracy stared into space.

“That’s the only reason I haven’t destroyed the thing.”

“So, why me?  Why did you give it to me?”

“So I could keep track of it.  I couldn’t keep it in my house, I couldn’t destroy it.   If it got sold again, who knows where it would have wound up.”

“You know, I could kill you for that.”

Giselle nodded.  “Understood.”

“Why didn’t you just go back where you got it?  They . . .”

“That’s the first thing I did.”

“Well?   What did they say?”

Giselle pulled the car over and parked.

“There is no ‘they.’   The house wasn’t there, the garage.  Exact same address.  I checked so many times. . . it's just a shack on deserted property ready to collapse.  Neglected, condemned.”

“That’s impossible.”

Giselle mumbled, “No kidding.”

“How did you even know about this garage sale?”

“A flyer left on David’s windshield.”

“Can I see it?”

“It's disappeared.  I haven’t been able to find it.”

“That’s convenient.”

“No, it’s not.  It’s anything but convenient.  Don’t you think I know how this looks?”

“I didn't ask to know anything! You know I’m not here by choice!”

“You think I am?  I don’t want any of this, this, whatever ‘this’ is!”

“You should have gone to the police.”

“And what do you think would be the outcome of that?”

They were silent.

Tracy spoke first.  “At least I wouldn’t be here.”

Giselle leaned over.  “Bottom line? You are here.  I am here.  Our husbands need help. And I might have a plan."

“If they’re not beyond help, right? For all you know?”

“I liked you better when you couldn’t talk.”

“You bitch!”

“Well, I think this may be a situation that calls for it.  You’re kind of a bitch yourself.”

Tracy took a deep breath.

“So, what’s your plan?”

“What do you know about sound waves?”

                                                              ~~~

  They were in Tracy’s bedroom.  Tracy watched as Giselle positioned the last piece into place. 

    “This is such a long shot.”      

“You have a better idea?”  

    “You say you saw this in a dream?

    “Last night.  David showed me.”

    “And you’re sure it was David?”

    “Of course, I’m sure.”

"I'm sure you are."

    Giselle stepped back and surveyed the scene.  The sound machine was encased in mirrors.  It looked like an igloo. The way Giselle understood it, if the sound had nowhere to go but back into itself, it might cause enough chaos that, if their husbands had been vacuumed in, the opposite may afford them a way out.

They also ran the risk of bringing forth whatever took them in the first place, but they’d agreed it was better than doing nothing at all.    

They donned noise-canceling headsets, along with earplugs for good measure.   Tracy waited in the bedroom doorway while Giselle slipped her hand into a small opening between two mirrors and pressed the black button.  She ran to where Tracy was.

As they peered from the doorway, the lights in the room began to flicker.   They could feel pressure building until they had to hunker down on their knees and cover their faces.  A sudden explosion lit the room.  Both women flew backwards.

                                                      ~~~

    Tracy slowly opened her eyes.   She couldn’t see or hear.   She felt a weight removed from her head, hands gently touching her face, her neck, her wrist.

   “I feel a pulse!”

   So far away.   She fell back into nothing.   

The next time she regained consciousness, she was in bed.  

     Gary was sitting next to her.  She could see that he was saying something.  She felt a tap on her shoulder.  Giselle was sitting on the other side of her, motioning to her ears.

   Tracy managed to dig out the plugs.    

“Ow, ow, ow.”    

“Lie back.  How do you feel?”  Gary took the plugs from her. 

     “Are you real?”  Tracy whispered.  Gary nodded        

“Is this a dream?”  Tracy looked from Gary to Giselle.  They both shook their heads.

   “You're okay?"

Giselle nodded.

"Do you know?"

"Your friend here told me everything." Gary nodded.

"Where’s the thing?”

     “Come see.”

    Gary and Giselle walked Tracy to the window.   Below them, a barrel spewed flames.

“It’s in there?    

Giselle nodded.  “Along with the mirrors.  We had to break a few to make them fit, but I’m not worried about bad luck.  I got David back.  He’s the one tending the fire.”

   It hit Tracy all at once.  She broke into weak laughter that turned to tears and back again.    

Gary held her.

    “There’s no way to thank you, Giselle.  This took guts.”    

Tracy lifted her head.

     “She’s actually a real bitch."       

Giselle patted Tracy carefully.

    “Thanks, partner.  That really means something, coming from you.”

                                                     ~~~

   Not far from where they stood, a shard of glass lay wedged between the floorboards under a bureau.  It vibrated with hate.  This was not the first time it had been displaced by its intended prey.  Let the mortals have their celebration.  The monster within had no soul, but it had time, and it would have its revenge.

                                                           -0-