My house is speaking to me. Perhaps it always has, but before I never listened.
It started with cracks in the walls and ceiling. I’ve never noticed them before. Cracks slight and not so slight. Friends told me it was the house settling, but after 60 years should it not have settled before?
Then the noises… I live on a very busy street, but never heard traffic noise. My insurance agent told me my house was built when they really built houses. The walls are thick plaster and lath – sound proof and all but fire proof. “It will burn, but it will burn real slow.” I relished in that.
Now I lie in bed at night and not only hear the traffic passing, but feel the vibrations too. Before, it was just the police cars and fire trucks, but now most all vehicles. Shaking me so softly, yet disturbingly.
And the sounds. I lie quietly in my bed and hear the house as it moans and mutters like an old man getting comfortable in his favorite chair to watch the TV, or to sleep, or both. Listen, they are there – cooler blowing, wind chimes sounding, perhaps laundry in the breeze.
Then there are the more disturbing sounds. I’ve had auditory hallucinations for a whole. Always the same, so of late I choose to ignore them. Not sinister suggestions from outer space or anything like that, just a knocking on my door. The same four raps upon my door. In the past I’ve gotten up to see who it could be, but as always there is no one there. I think I know who is rapping at my door – a demon, a savior. It’s what I fear and hope and maybe deserve.