still of the night

The alarm clock chirps insistently at 0230. The hum of the fan threatens to lull me back to sleep, but the alarm is quite adamant about waking me. I stumble through the darkness, slapping the right button to reset the chirp for tomorrow and head in the general direction of the bathroom. I crank the little space heater while I get ready for my day. If there is one thing I cannot stand, it is the cold. The coffeemaker burbles none too quietly on the other side of the door. I bundle into my coat and boots, wrapping my scarf around my cheeks, hot mug of fresh coffee in my gloved hand, and I am ready to leave, walking out of the sleeping house at 0315.

I flip on the outside light so i can see to get down the steps. The cold compact fluorescent bulb does little to fight away the darkness, and as I get to the top of the steps I look down instinctively. The steps disappear into total blackness. I pause to let my eyes adjust. The barest of fingernail moons clings to the star-speckled sky, its watery light too feeble to clear my path to the car.

I know that there are rats in our suburban neighborhood. I have seen them scurrying around in our yard in early morning and in the cat’s light. I have seen evidence of them in our trash, prompting me to install a more durable trash can in our yard. Our dog barks inanely at them as they shuffle past our fence. Yes, I know they are there.

But when I set foot on the bottom step and heard a rustling in the pile of dry leaves, mere inches from the toe of my boot, I still let out a bloodcurdling scream that shook the windows of the nearest three houses. In the instant that the scream was dying in my throat, the soft sound of feathers whooshed over my head, ruffling my hair into my eyes. A bird roughly the size of a cat swooped down and carried off the rat, squirming in the bird’s claws, across the lawn, over the streetlight and into the blackness once again. Accompanied by yet another shriek of surprise, followed by a resounding “oh my fuck,” that echoed off the houses and bare concrete for at least a block in all directions.

I expected to be chagrined, and explain with reddening cheeks, my sudden fright to my sleepy neighbors, grasping frying pans, shotguns and metal baseball bats. I expected my husband to arrive post haste on the front porch berating me for screaming in the middle of the night and pooh-poohing my foolish fears. I expected a police cruiser to pass slowly by and ask if I had seen or heard anything strange in the past few minutes. Not a light snapped on inside any home in any direction. A single car sped by, taking no note of the 30 mph speed limit sign. I gulped the cold night air and with shaking knees, sat down in my car.

Well damn. It’s a good thing I wasn’t being murdered. It’s a good thing to know that one’s screams will go unheeded at 0330. Now I’ll know not to waste my breath. I’ll expend that energy doing something far more useful. Like summoning that freaky bird to peck out my assailant’s eyes.