Chilling Cacophony

Inky night blankets the motionless room. Flimsy curtains hang limply, concealing gaping windows, futilely gasping for a single breath of fresh air. The aging ceiling fan, monotonously rotates, moaning softly over it’s losing battle.

A lone mosquito joins in the nocturnal tune. It’s intermittent buzz, buzz, buzz soon swells in volume as scores more of its hungry horde arrive. No longer quiet, the ‘Night Choir’ rapidly swells in volume, with impressive surround sound.

Restlessly, we toss and turn, vainly attempting to cling to sleep. Pillows are pulled tightly over heads, tightly tucked over ears… almost succeeding in ignoring the infuriating irritants. Blessedly, sleep steals softly closer — shyly approaching — ready to flee.

Outside, a sudden crash splits the solitude! Startled — marionette-style — our heads pop out from their pillowy bunkers. Further discordant sounds invade the bedroom. Befuddled brains struggle to identify the source of the unwelcome disturbance. It’s across the road. A metal rubbish bin has been booted. Overturned. Yes… it’s definitely a runaway lid, clanging down a garden path.

Despite a cacophony of canine howling and barking which erupts, we silently resolve to return to our slumber. Carefully tucking errant feet and hands under the sheet — protection from the annoying blood sucking insects — elusive sleep is again sought.

A rustling sound creeps past the window, along the front of the house.

Something or Someone is out there!

Relax!

It’s just a busy bandicoot… no need for alarm!

Deep breaths… In… Out… In… Out!

Sanity regains the upper hand. Galloping heart rates slow to a canter. The ‘doggy duet’ comes to a sudden end.

Bang, bang, bang!

A puppeteer yanks on our ‘strings’. We bolt upright in tandem.

Eyes wide, we mutely gaze at each other.

Who could it be? At this hour!

Telepathically, we ask “What do we do? Ignore it? Pretend we’re asleep… not home? No! An opportunistic burglar might seize the chance of an ‘easy’ target. It could be an itinerant ‘Axe Murderer’!”

Silence… except the droning mosquitoes.

Suddenly, the dreaded hammering sounds again, mercilessly assaulting our defenceless front door.

Hearts tap dance up into our throats — threatening to burst forth —desperate to escape by any means.

Reluctantly sliding out of bed, we tip-toe towards certain doom. By now, each and every dog in the neighbourhood has raised the alarm. A united army against the dangerous intruder, poised on our threshold. Small help they’ll be to us!

Warily creeping towards the fragile, glass door, we see a hulking dark monster looming on the other side. Persistent, unrelenting knocking echoes ominously throughout our safe haven. Threatening us.

“Hello!”

Shocked, we shrink away from the menace, lurking on the other side of the useless ripple-glass barrier.

“Open the door!” the voice impatiently demands.

Reason reasserts itself. The ‘terrifying monster’ speaks English! Drawing a bracing breath, corralling our courage — risking life and limb — we swing the door wide open.

Relief sweeps over us. There, our neighbour Max leans — precariously — against the railing which guards our short staircase.

Exhaling, his breath threatens to instantly send us over the legal Blood Alcohol Limit.

“Can you give me a lift to me brother’s place?” he asks. “It’s just ten minutes up the road at Brownsville.” He looks askance at us.

Incredulously, we shake our heads in unspoken refusal.

Surprised, he queries, “Why not?”

The surreal conversation staggers onwards…

“Um… it’s midnight!” we murmur.

Undeterred, Max barely misses a beat.

“You got any mit?”

Bemused, we numbly repeat, “MIT?”

“Yeah… a mit, cheese and tomato sanwich,” he slurs.

“Sorry, we don’t have any meat,” I explain.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Good-naturedly, my husband disappears into the depths of our house. In the blink of an eye, he returns bearing a Promite and cheese sandwich.

“The bread’s still frozen,” he warns “you’ll have to wait a few minutes for it to thaw out.”

Absentmindedly, Max nods and immediately sinks his teeth into the chilly snack. Eyes pop wide open in shock.

“It’s still frozen,” comes the patient explanation.

Eyebrows slowly return to default position as our unexpected guest noisily munches on his chewy morsel.

“What’s your name?” he inquires around his half chewed food.

“Jack,” comes the answer.

“I’ll just call you Jesus,” he casually declares.

“Don’t do that! I’m just a person like you!” comes the horrified response.

“Okay… thanks.” Without further ado, Max amicably ambles off in the direction of his darkened home.

Firmly closing the door behind his retreating back, we gaze numbly at each other. No words pass between us as we stumble back to bed… our awaiting life raft.

The night’s reprise resumes… strains of clanking metal and muffled expletives emanate from outside our open window. Hounds resume their howls, yowls and yapping. A lone mosquito summons his crew.

*

Written for the A Knock at the Door Challenge.