Heartbeats in the Dark (A Strange Noise)

Heartbeats in the Dark

 Da-da-DUM! Da-da-DUM!

I’m in my room, drumming. It helps me when I’m feeling scared.

Am I scared?

Yes.

Why?

One reason –strange noise. It’s mysterious. It’s loud. It comes from somewhere near me.

And – da-da-dum, da-da-dum!

“Where is the noise coming from? Is it coming from the wardrobe? Or is it from under the bed? ” I walk to the wardrobe and check. Then I walk to the bed and peep under the bed. Nothing! Strange! It is not in the wardrobe , neither is it from the bed. Where can it be? Where is the noise?

Mum’s getting mad. I can tell by the beat of her words.

Hurry up. Da-da-DUM!

“Darren!” We’ve got to go.

Mum’s going to have a baby. I’m scared of that, too, but I’m more scared of Bess.

Got to go.

In the car, I nod my head a lot.

“Yes, Mum, got my school stuff.” “Yes, Mum, got my toothbrush.” “Yes, I’ll remember to ring Pop.” Pop’s my grandfather. He’s forgetful and wrinkly. He lives by himself, and every night I phone him before I go to bed. It’s just something I do. It reminds him to go to bed, too. Mum hugs me. I can tell she’s scared as well.

Aunt Billie is Bess’s mum. That night, she shows me up to a little room in the attic.

“There’s no ceiling light up here,” she says. “Bess is bringing up a lamp for you.”

Then Aunt Billie goes downstairs and leaves me with the dreaded Bess. Bess plugs in the lamp, and her eyes glint in an evil kind of way in its glare.

My heart bangs in my chest, in my throat, and between my ears. Why? Because my most secret secret is that I’m scared of the dark. Really, really scared of the dark. And I know Bess knows.

I see Bess’s smile slide around her face. “Let’s play shadow puppets,” she says.

She puts the lamp on the floor, pointing at the wall. She looms over me, making monsters, bats, dragons, and wolves on the wall right beside my head. At last, when it’s totally dark outside, she gets bored with scaring me. She leaves, with the lamp. I am so scared I can’t move. Dum-da-dum-da-dum-da …

I lie in bed, drumming my fingers on the wall. My ears feel as big as elephants’ ears as I listen to every little sound. My throat is so tight I can’t swallow my spit. Then suddenly I remember Pop. What am I going to do? Pop always gets this call from me. If I don’t ring him, he won’t go to bed, and he might worry about me.

I open my eyes. It’s hard doing that. Usually if it’s dark, I keep them shut so I can pretend it’s not dark. Crazy? So? Everyone’s got a bit of crazy in them – Pop told me that once.

I sit up. I can’t breathe because the dark is so black it feels like it’s suffocating me. I stare at where I know the curtains are. I tell myself that the sun’s blazing the other side of that curtain. If I can just get to them, yank them open …

I put one foot out of bed.

Da-dum-da-dum-da-dum.

I listen to my heartbeat and make my feet walk in time to the beat.

Da-dum-da-dum-da-dum.

Curtain – pull!

I can see black roofs and black trees, extra black in the blackness. Hey, there’s more than one kind of blackness – I never knew that.

I suck in a ball of air, swallow it, and feel my way down the stairs.

Da-dum-da-dum-da-dum.

The phone! Got it! I feel for the right buttons.

“Hi Pop!”

When I race back up to bed, I’m so happy. I can’t get to sleep – I just lie there listening to my heartbeat going “Did it. Did it. Did it.” Next morning, Aunt Billie comes in early, before it’s light.

“You’ve got a sister,” she says.

I smile. I reckon I’ve been smiling all night in my sleep.

“Where’s the lamp, Darren?” asks Aunt Billie.

“Bess took it,” I say. “She’s scared of the dark, so I let her have it beside her bed.”