Bump in the Night

The drip started in silence. Deafening in the quiet of night. Drip. Drip. Drip.

He stirred minutely. A rhythm intermittently began to appear. Drip. Drip drip. Drip. Drip drip drip. It took maybe 5 minutes to emerge, or was it 7 or 8 minutes? In the darkness time slowed. In the middle of silent night time seemed to stand still. Besides, who cared?

With that question he was awake. His slight movement in bed made a rustle in the sheets. He became more aware of his surroundings. The drip now became more evident. His consciousness now focused on the drip. It Was Clearly A Drip! In the middle of the night. In his home. His secure nest.

His analysis nerve stirred and he considered the causes of a drip. In the middle of the night. Many occurred to him: a roof leak; a faucet leak; a seeping pipe leaking onto the floor; a window left open and rain seeping in on the sill? Let’s see; is this drip nearby or downstairs?  Was it overhead or below? Possibilities multiplied. With each possibility the source of the drip became more sinister. Had there been a storm in the night? A violent storm? Was the roof intact? Surely the noise of such a storm would have awakened me?

That did it! Time to search for the cause. With a sweep of his arm the sheets and blanket were flung aside, his legs were tossed over the side of the bed and he slowly stood and got his bearings. The air seemed normal; not cool; not hot or unduly humid. Just right for this time of year. No smell was evident either. No; just the drip. No echo, no splink-splunk, no additional sound than a solitary drip. Alone. By itself. Steady, now; but a drip.

Light switch found by deadened finger tips. Light sprang out of darkness. The room seemed perfectly normal. A quick glance to the ceiling found no telltale spot forming around a leak. No; perfectly dry. No drip in this room.

Down the hall to the bathroom. Light switch. Blinding beacon to night blind eyes. Faucet secure. No drip. Bathtub faucet dry, too. Toilet silent. Raise the lid and notice no ripple of the water in the bowl. No internal drip in the water tank. All silent on this front.

Check the bedrooms. Empty now with the kids gone to their own family lives. Ceilings dry; windows sealed. No wet marks on the carpeting. No telltale signs of a leak. Good!

Down the stairs. First floor powder room silent; all normal. No signs of a drip, leak, or ooze.

Living room still as he left it before going up to bed the night before. Windows all closed. No ceiling marks denoting a leak. Floor/carpet/rugs all dry. Hmmmmm! Still nothing disclosing the source of the drip.

With a tentative step he entered the kitchen. Quick examination of the sink. Faucet head dry; so, too, the sink and drain surrounds. No water in evidence leaking. No drip here. On to the window; still sealed against the night air and no evidence of storm or storm seepage. Dishwasher? How could it produce a dripping leak audible all the way upstairs in the middle of the night? Still take a look. Door sealed. Edges all dry. Floor in front of dishwasher is dry; no signs of water anywhere near it. Kitchen seems innocent of a drip!

Next to the laundry room. Water heater, water softener, washing machine. Several water turnoff valves. Dry. All dry. No leak whatsoever. Besides, how would a leak here sound all the way upstairs to my bedroom of silence?

On to the garage. Garage door closed. No wind. No rain beating against it. No evident leaks from the roof. No puddles, just salt stains of the winter past, the rime of evaporated road slush. No ceiling marks of a leak. Nothing evident, either, on the walls.

Out to the front porch. No dripping from the eaves. No water whatever. Dry night. No storm in progress or evidence of an earlier one. Deep silence. Inky blackness; similar, velvety quiet.

On to the back patio; no water; no drip; no eave from which to fall for a drop of water!

Stymied. He was at a loss.

The dripping sound continued. Muffled now. He was farther from its source. Retrace his steps to the stairs, climb each one, turn on the stairway light; inspect each stair tread for evidence of damp. None. Nothing. Continue up the stairs to the upper hallway. Still no damp on the carpeting. Dry. Just as he left it the night before.

Edged back to the side of his bed. The house is now brightly lit. Fully aglow in the middle of the night. The clock reads 3 AM. Stillness looms – except for the solitary drip.

It is fading now. The rhythm is slowly abating. No double drip drip, just a lonely drip! Then again, every 4 seconds, now 5, now 6 seconds. Slowly. Slowly. 10 seconds, 12, 15.

He retraces his steps throughout the house turning off lights. Smelling the air for dampness or mustiness. Nothing.

Back upstairs now. On the bed. Sitting with knees upright. Just the night stand lamp on, now. The house is closing in, the darkness re-enveloping him. Darkness absorbs him as he snaps off the lamp. Pitch black. Night vision emerging to spot the smoke alarm monitor light, the snooze alarm dial of the clock. Tiny sources of light seem as beacons now as his eyes adjust to the blanket of darkness.

He listens intently. The roar of silence pours from his inner ears. Nothing. No drip. No sound but his breathing.

He lies back on the bed, his head snuggling into the pillow. Deep in the pillow. No sound but the rustling of his ears settling into the pillow case.

Deep dark now. Stark silence. Nary a creak from the house. Nor a drip.

Whatever was the drip?

He shall never know.

Nor we!

February 17, 2014