Draft Dodger
08-17-2007, 08:06 AM
I was almost asleep. The thunderstorm had rolled in quickly but quietly. There were a few "regular" claps, and then the big one hit. There was a huge flash, illuminating the house in a brilliant wash of light, followed immediately by a thunderous sonic boom.
I flew out of bed, sure that the noise had woken up and frightened my son downstairs. By the time I got to the top of the stairs, I realized that the power had gone out; I couldn't see a thing. I also became aware that I didn't hear my son crying downstairs, so my sense of urgency subsided.
I began to move slowly down the stairs. My wife, after checking on our daughter, was behind me. It was almost impossible to see in the pitch black; I would move during the lightning flashes and then pause when the dark returned.
I was a bit spooked. The sudden silence from the absence of any electronic devices was oddly frightening. And, as we were in the middle of a remodel, everything was out of place on the main floor and navigation was difficult. There was a flashlight in the kitchen and that's where I was creeping too.
Another flash. The living room window lit up, and, for a second, I was certain there was a figure standing there...watching....waiting. I forced myself to continue, feeling along for a path through the furniture. I passed my son's room - a flash of lightning illuminated his room enough to show that he was sleeping soundly.
I was just about to the kitchen. My wife was nervous behind me, and I was trying to sound calm. Another huge flash. And, at the same time, the voice. "Hello". It came from the kitchen. Just one word, but it was enough to freeze me in my tracks. It was a playful voice. Taunting. There, of course, was not supposed to be anyone in my kitchen - both kids were accounted for, and my wife was still behind me, asking me what the fuck that was.
I was afraid to move. I wanted to get to the comfort of the flashlight, but I didn't want to get closer to the voice.
Finally, it hit me. I'd heard the voice before. It was Laa Laa. A Teletubbie. The kids had an old doll that, when you pressed its belly, would say a few phrases. "Hello" was one of the phrases. The electricity in the air during the strike must have set it off just once, just enough to scare the living crap out of my wife and I.
I hate those damn Teletubbies.
I flew out of bed, sure that the noise had woken up and frightened my son downstairs. By the time I got to the top of the stairs, I realized that the power had gone out; I couldn't see a thing. I also became aware that I didn't hear my son crying downstairs, so my sense of urgency subsided.
I began to move slowly down the stairs. My wife, after checking on our daughter, was behind me. It was almost impossible to see in the pitch black; I would move during the lightning flashes and then pause when the dark returned.
I was a bit spooked. The sudden silence from the absence of any electronic devices was oddly frightening. And, as we were in the middle of a remodel, everything was out of place on the main floor and navigation was difficult. There was a flashlight in the kitchen and that's where I was creeping too.
Another flash. The living room window lit up, and, for a second, I was certain there was a figure standing there...watching....waiting. I forced myself to continue, feeling along for a path through the furniture. I passed my son's room - a flash of lightning illuminated his room enough to show that he was sleeping soundly.
I was just about to the kitchen. My wife was nervous behind me, and I was trying to sound calm. Another huge flash. And, at the same time, the voice. "Hello". It came from the kitchen. Just one word, but it was enough to freeze me in my tracks. It was a playful voice. Taunting. There, of course, was not supposed to be anyone in my kitchen - both kids were accounted for, and my wife was still behind me, asking me what the fuck that was.
I was afraid to move. I wanted to get to the comfort of the flashlight, but I didn't want to get closer to the voice.
Finally, it hit me. I'd heard the voice before. It was Laa Laa. A Teletubbie. The kids had an old doll that, when you pressed its belly, would say a few phrases. "Hello" was one of the phrases. The electricity in the air during the strike must have set it off just once, just enough to scare the living crap out of my wife and I.
I hate those damn Teletubbies.