And that is when she heard a noise…a short story by Linda Claire

Linda was 40 years old and had 2 children. The recent divorce meant that Linda was the only adult living in the household. This was a new situation for her to find herself in. Up until this time, she had lived with her parents or her husband. The adjustment to single parenting was going fairly well for Linda. But the evenings loomed with loneliness and her fears.

Every evening, as Linda climbed into her bed, she would hear sounds. Until she lived as the sole adult, she had simply given no thought to the simple noises a house could make. Her parents and then her husband had been charged with the responsibility to keep everyone safe. Now, as Linda lay in her bed alone, the radiators banged in such a way that one could easily interpret the noise as a person trying to pry open a door!  Creak, tap, tap. The tree that needed trimming sometimes banged against the windowpanes sounded like a villain pounding against the door demanding entry. Pound, thump, pound.

Linda supposed that her fears were normal for an adult who needed to secure the safety of herself and her 2 children. She was just not used to being at such a level of responsibility. She loved her children and prayed for their safety and she felt that she needed to stay vigilant here in these dark hours before slumber set in.

Her neighbor friend Bill was a Federal Marshall. Bill had given her a defense plan after her divorce. He advised her to keep a pair of large men’s boots near the front door. This would supposedly fake out a burglar who upon seeing the boots would believe that she was not single and vulnerable. The work boots would suggest a rugged, tough guy lived in this house. Linda had purchased the perfect boots at the local thrift store and placed them on the front doormat.  Bill also suggested that a can of wasp spray would be a good defense tool. In the event of an intruder, Linda could kneel beside her bed and spray a good distance and with great accuracy towards the eyes of the intruder.

So, Linda went to sleep with her cell phone handy and a can of wasp spray always nearby.

Over a period of months, Linda began to calm herself. The radiator and the tree taps were simply background noises. Linda also began to have confidence in her handling of life as a single Mom and even laughed at her early fears and trepidations of nighttime dangers.

It was a frosty February evening when she heard a noise that caused her adrenaline to spike. Linda reached for her wasp spray and her phone. The noise had definitely been the sound of breaking glass. Linda analyzed where the noise had originated. It had clearly been the room just below her bedroom. It had come from the family room. This was also the only room in the house with a large glass door wall.

It was odd that at this serious threat she never thought of calling 9-1-1. It was probably because every other noise had always been a false alert. This was different. Someone had broken the glass downstairs. As Linda crept down the upstairs hallway, she could see that the children were snug in their beds and sound asleep. Linda knew her floor well, she knew where to avoid the creaking boards. Her bare feet traveled noiselessly along the hallway to the staircase.

There, at the top of the stairs, she paused waiting to see if she could hear anyone walking around downstairs. Instead, she heard again the noise of breaking glass. She could hear it and could envision the tiny pieces of glass that surely now covered her family room floor.  Still, she heard no footsteps. Linda creeped with great stealth down the stairs with the wasp spray at the ready.

Ever so carefully Linda came closer to the scene of the crime. If only she had left some boots by that back entry to her home.

In one dramatic gesture Linda reached the light wall switch. She flipped it on with fearless determination. She would face down her aggressor. The wasp spray was uncapped, and her finger was ready to press down the aerosol spray button.

That is when she heard the noise again and saw the source. Pumpkin, the new orange kitten, was walking the treble cleft part of the piano keyboard.  Ping, ping, ting, ting, ping. The same sound as Linda had heard before. A piano song that sounded just like breaking glass.

Linda nearly collapsed with relief. She lowered her wasp spray weapon.

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