The Late Night Noise

When I fell asleep the leather was cool, the cushions of the couch perfectly positioned to keep my back ever so slightly elevated. My blanket was soft, my skin felt perfectly refreshed after a good cleanse and the application of my favorite moisturizer. Soft evening light trickled in from the kitchen windows, pooling at the single wooden step leading to the living room. The perfect mix of darkness and light!

Now everything is dark. I am twisting and turning against the sweaty mess the leather has become, my blanket is strewn across the floor and the cushions are making an attempt to leap off and join it. Hair is plastered to my damp skin which is no longer glowing but reflects the texture of clammy hands. Worst of all, as I lay there in the dark, uncomfortable, I cannot quiet the incessant noise that seems to be coming from right behind my head. 

How can I describe this noise?

Imagine you are standing by a waterfall enjoying the sound of the liquid glass falling on top of itself over and over. Your eyes are closed, everything else begins to fade away except for the waterfall. Eventually you notice a different sound, a more specific sound. It is the sound of one drop of water clicking against a particular piece of rock. Your eyes fly open in an intense attempt to locate where this drop is, but every time you turn to search in a new direction it shifts and appears somewhere you cannot see. 

As I continue to lie there, growing warmer by the minute I begin to imagine what the sound could be. I tell myself I had better try to decipher what this sound is before I get up to find something silly like the faucet dripping water. That evening I do remember pulling the knob and allowing the water to flow freely into an electric kettle to warm for a cup of tea. Groaning silently to myself I picture the mug sitting half drunk behind me on the end table, cold. 

Maybe that could be the sound! Maybe in my discomfort I flung my hand out and hit the mug so that it was knocked on its side and is now dripping the remnants of my night time indulgence onto the base of the little metal table. That must be it!

Just as I turned, excited to have a quick chuckle to myself about what an absurd dramatic scene I was making out of such a little thing, I realized. No! That cannot be it! I flash back to lazily placing my mug on the carpet before I drifted of, uninterested in making the full effort of twisting around to put it back on the table. 

Frozen again, staring at the seam where the cream colored walls meets the gravel textured ceiling, I lay listening to the noise. What could it be?? With my eyes still fixed on that thick seam I being to imagine I am rising from the couch and walking towards the sound. In my mind I see the thin hallway connecting the living area to the little kitchen and just beyond that, the dark corridor leading to the washroom. Could there be a leak in the washer?? Could my house be flooding??

But no, I sigh and my mind backtracks to where I lay on the sweaty leather. I hadn’t started any washing cycles this evening, that room was as motionless and empty as campground bathroom. 

Oh! I used to visit campgrounds with Rupert. And let me tell you, the first trip together we planned everything perfectly! Just the right amount of supplies without feeling overpacked, a first aid kit, a portable stove, and of course a nice bottle of whiskey to warm us up after the sun turned off its heat lamp. The drive to our campsite was beautiful, full of teasing, trading observations about the landscape and singing along to each others favorite tunes. In fact, everything went off without a hitch until it came to set up the tent. Here we are pulling out the fabric of the tent from a duffel bag when we realize we have forgotten to bring the thin metal poles you slide between the fabric to keep the whole damn thing up! Rupert and I realized this at about the same time and with one quick glance at the scratchy fabric and then back at each other, we doubled over in a fit of laughter. 

That night we enjoyed our bottle of whiskey as we lay on top of the very shelter we should have been under! When the bottle was finished I moved up close to Rupert's side, using his chest as a pillow, and enjoyed the soft thump of his heart.

His heart, I could listen to that sound for ages! Maybe that is what I am hearing! Maybe Rupert has come home, he is in the kitchen! He is making me a fresh cup of tea and accidentally spilled it bringing it over to me! I am sure if I were to turn around now he would be there in the hallway carefully mopping up the mess, cursing himself for ruining such a sweet surprise! My Rupert always was the clumsy one, but I never scolded him. Oh Rupert! 

This time my hip rises a few inches and my head begins to turn before I suddenly freeze once more. Slowly, I lower myself back onto the couch. No. No, it cannot be Rupert in the hallway. Or in the kitchen. No. Rupert is where he always is, where he has been for many years. Enjoying a lifetime under the stars. Well, that is if he could find a way to see through six feet of solid dirt. 

Back again, I return, to the noise. 

All of a sudden I am gripped with an animal like fear! What if it is not something mundane at all! What if, after all this time, I am finally being punished for what I’ve done! Those drips against hard metal… could they be the heavy drool of a monster come to teach me a final lesson?! I can see it now! Its glowing yellow eyes! It’s body is made of nothing, made of darkness and hate and fear. There are two hands reaching out from the void, yes they want me to embrace them and then they will pull me in! Devour me! I blink furiously, tears beginning to well around the corners of my eyes. I realize suddenly my nails are digging into the palms of my hands and my teeth have sandwiched my tongue between them! 

I must turn around! I must see this creature . . . 

Maybe I must let it take me.

With all my might I rise from the couch, keeping my eyes fixed on the carpet below me. My neck feels bent out of shape, my legs are weak from the tension they have held these past few minutes. Has the noise gotten louder? I move like a zombie towards the kitchen gripping at anything I can find to keep me upright as I go along. When I reach the threshold the dripping sounds like cymbals crescendoing! Magnificent! I decide when I look up, I will lunge to meet the creature in front of me with open arms. I will let it sink its teeth into my shoulders and swallow me whole! 

My head snaps up and I throw myself into the kitchen! 

But, it’s empty? I shake my head feeling every bit as delirious, sweaty and confused as I was on the couch. But still the noise it is penetrating my ears! 

“WHERE, WHERE, WHERE ARE YOU!” I yell desperately. 

In a rage I tear across the kitchen to the window just above the sink and yank it open, determined to escape this prison! And . . . just as I begin to climb up onto the ledge of the sink, I see a drop of water welling at the edge of the faucet. I lower myself back down slowly, bring my head level with the faucet, and watch. 

The droplet continues to grow until it is about the size of a kernel of corn. Then it falls in what feels like slow motion onto a pot resting in the sink. 

“Plink”

For a moment I freeze. Then I begin to chuckle. Chuckle, chuckle, chuckle. Soon enough it has turned into a laugh! LaUgh, LaUGh, LAuGh! Now I am full blown CACKLING! CACKLE, CACKLE, CACKLE!