I woke up in the wee hours of this morning to a very disturbing noise.  I will try to sound it out for you:

barap-bum-Barm-bumumapupa!

(pause)

barap-bum-Barm-bumumapupa!

It took me a few seconds to realize that the noise was what had woken me up, and I laid perfectly motionless while it continued.  Was it a leftover from a dream?  No, it was definitely a real noise.

barap-bum-Barm-bumumapupa!

It was loud, and it sounded like it was coming from the kitchen because of the way it echoed.  It sounded as though someone had broken into the house, turned the automatic icemaker on, and left the freezer open, causing batch after batch of ice to cascade onto the floor.

barap-bum-Barm-bumumapupa!

Whatever it was, it wasn’t going away and I realized I was going to have to get up and investigate.  My heart started racing with anticipation.

What if there was something wrong with the house? What if it was an intruder, or an animal, or a fire?  Some part of my brain (labeled “survival” and shrunken from years of disuse) picked up the adrenaline and caused me to take mental inventory of the weapons available in the immediate area.  None.  Shoot.  Can I walk out of this bedroom unarmed? Is that safe?

barap-bum-Barm-bumumapupa!

I was very still for a moment.  I wanted that noise to stop all by itself.  But it didn’t.  I considered waking up Kelly so we could investigate together.  No, I thought, it is my job to investigate things that go bump in the night.  And keep going bump.  Even after they should have stopped.  I stirred for the first time and lifted my head to get out of bed.

And the noise stopped.

It was then, my heart still pumping dutifully, that I realized what had happened.  The breath from my very own left nostril had sent little ripples through the flannel fabric on my pillowcase, causing a series of thumping noises that echoed in my left ear using much the same acoustic principle that allows you to “hear the ocean” by holding up a seashell to your ear.  These had, in turn, been misinterpreted by my sleep-heavy brain as coming from the other side of the house.

I have rarely been so grateful to go back to sleep.  And, in the last moments before I drifted off, I resolved to get a baseball bat, or something. 

You know, for next time.