Bumps in the Night, Pt. 1
(The House on Maple Street, by Harris Burdick)
No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't block out the noise.
Felldo slipped out of bed. His baby blue pajamas move silently across the room. He paused at the door. A tan foot slithered out from under his baggy pants and gently pried the door open. Felldo never completely closed it.
Slowly and steadily, the door opened and the view widened. Sweat dripping from his nose, his fearful eyes darted up and down, searching the hallway through the crack for any sign of life.
Suddenly, the door gave a huge "Crrrrrrreeeeeeaaaakkkk!"
Felldo froze. He even stopped breathing. Very carefully, he backed away from the hole, which was now big enough to stick an arm through. He continued until he felt a wall against his drenched head.
Worry filled him. What if someone heard him? The noises had stopped, leaving an eerie silence. Then, without warning, they started up again.
How he hated those sounds. A wooden spoon hitting a frying pan. A small child falling on linoleum tile. A clicking of a pen. A general thud thud of the monsters under beds and in closets. So many varieties of notes, banged and drummed together in a horror song, playing to an unknown beat.
Felldo ran a perspired hand though his think brown hair. Perhaps it was safe to try again.
He was creeping over to the door, only about a foot away when a light flicked on in the hallway.
The clatter ceased at once. Felldo quickly scampered to his bed as mutely as possible. He flung the covers over him.
His door squeaked open just as the covers were settling. A familiar face appeared: pale skin framed with a thin layer of black. Soon another joined it: pale and black, but manlier. Hazel and Harris Deerwood stood over their son, peering into his open eyes.
"Up so early?" Harris asked, a smiled visible on the auctioneer's face.
"Uh, yeah, pretty much." Hazel grinned as well. She was a publisher.
"Well, then you can get ready for school!" she said. It almost sounded fake, like she was merely repeating a line on a script.
"Its still nighttime!" Felldo's gazed turned to his clock. It read 12:00.
His mom burst out laughing. "Son, you're clock's broken! You went to bed around 5:30 last night!" His father joined in.
Felldo didn't get how that was funny. His eyed his parents suspiciously, then left to get ready.
It was only 8:30, but Felldo was in bed already. The day had went like all days did now: get teased, be alone, be ignored. But it hadn't always been this way.
He had been popular: all the girls loved him; all the guys adored his talent. He was the top of the food chain, the ruler of the school. And until that one night, when he heard the first noise, he was considerably normal.
He had just got into bed. He was completely fine, until he heard it. Like a hammer striking metal.
Ignoring it, he turned on his side. Quiet dulled his mind, he fell into drowsiness. Then it came again, only this time it was like a knock on wood.
Felldo sat up. He immediately bolted out of bed and raced down the stairs. While running, he shouted "Mom, dad, we got a burglar!"
Doors flew open and feet pounded the floor. They searched the rooms.
And searched. And searched. They called the police, and the police searched. But nothing had changed, nothing was wrong. They had been nobody there.
"Then who made those noises?" Felldo demanded in a hysteric tone.
"Just the wind. Just the neighbors." They replied.
Life went on.
Until, two night later, it happened again. Felldo was asleep when a blare like a combination of a car and a rhino woke him. He sprinted out and cried out for his parents to come.
They searched. And searched. No one else heard anything. No one saw anything strange or missing. They reassured him it was the breeze. Felldo wasn't convinced.
This happened again. And again. The police finally stopped showing up and his parents began to ground him. His friends called him "nut" "coot" and "crazy." He lost everything, and eventually stopped sounding alarm. But he constantly tried to get a small glance of what made his life so dreadful.
He also began to keep track of the times he heard something. On his wall he carved tallies.
This reminded him. Felldo pulled out a flint stone from under his mattress and stretched in a line. He counted the marks. Fifteen. Fifteen times there was some strange noise he couldn't explain.
The next day, Felldo did something different. He met a boy named Chris.
Felldo knew he'd hate this Chris right off the start. He wore bright clothing, spoke very loudly, and refused to take no for an answer. He placed himself at Felldo's side and never let up all day, going on about his life of moving and his parents the scientists. When school was over, Chris asked to come to Felldo's house.
After a lot arguing, Felldo, at last, said he would ask his mom.
Chris said he understood, remember to ask, and see him soon. Felldo said bye.
Walking up to his house, he felt something was wrong. He shook the feeling, supposing it was that new kid who never shut up.
Felldo ate dinner, did homework, watched TV. When it was time for bed, he lied down and closed his eyes. After what seemed like hours, sleep came.
Around 11:30, a man in a white suit walked up to the house. He had wide strides and never swung his arms. Stopping about 4 feet away from the front lawn, he pulled out a radio and a remote-like item. He aimed the remote at the power box above the Deerwood's house and clicked a button on the radio. He pushed a switch on the remote and spoke "All clear. Proceed." into the radio. The power went out in the house. The men who received the radio signal continued with the experiment.
All was going well.
About the same time, Felldo awoke. It wasn't gradually, but a sudden awareness of being in bed. He opened his eyes and tried to recall his dream. Something about flying seals…
"All clear. Proceed." Felldo's mind halted. Was that a voice outside?
Hurling off his covers, he pulled the window curtain back. Frantically, he searched.
There was no one there.
He sulkily, he dragged himself away. He was climbing in when he heard them-voices, bangs, crashes-something was going on outside!
He leaped from his bed as if electrocuted. Jumping stairs two by two, Felldo reached the front door and rapidly unlocked it. The noises were going on, he might find them, and then…
They stopped.
Felldo shoved the door open, staring out into the night. Cold grasped his uncovered feet and hands. He toddled out, ears ringing from the silence. That was it? he thought, now it stops, when I'm inches away?
But then his eyes adjust to the darkness. His ears stopped ringing. About four or five feet from their front yard… stood Chris. Chris and two other taller adults, apparently scientists. This was Chris and his parents. They appeared to be squabbling.
"You? It was you all along?" Felldo exclaimed.
Chris stopped chattering. He turned to Felldo. "Oh no…" he said, a solemn look on his face.
One of the adults was pulling out a radio. "Proceed." she said, and began striding to a house across the street. When there, the woman bellowed to Chris: "Fine. Keep your friend. But the plan goes on." They both went inside.
Felldo was going crazy. "What is going on?" he screamed.
"I-you-" Chris stammered. Then he gave a sigh of defeat and raised a finger at the house behind Felldo.
Following the finger, Felldo revolved on the spot. Then gasped.
A roar echoed in the air, steam filled the street. There was one light on- in the attic. So that's where the noises are coming from! he thought. The scientists must also be to blame for making them, too. He stopped thinking about that though, because something happened that shook those thoughts away.
His house was taking off!
Felldo ran up to Chris, "Do something!" he shouted over the howl of the engine, but Chris merely shrugged. Felldo watched his home blast off into the starry sky, feeling helpless.
Then everything went black.