Okay, What the Hell Was That? Part II
A slamming door and vibrating wall that wakes me from a sleep? Maybe. But a noticable, audible swaying of a kitchen pot rack when I'm awake and alert?
I dunno. You tell me.
Perhaps Craig T. Nelson was right. Maybe they moved the headstones, but they didn't move the bodies!
Last Thursday night I put the kid to bed, kissed the dogs goodnight and headed upstairs to write. It was 9 p.m. As I was just powering up the computer and the TV wasn't on, the house was dead silent.
At 9:12 I hear this subtle, yet distinctive clanging coming from downstairs.
First reaction: "I'm gonna kill that kid!"
Second reaction: "Hooooooolllllllly shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!"
A quick check into the bedroom finds him tucked in and fast asleep. So, what's the noise?
I walk into the kitchen and am confronted by the spine-tingling sight of our hanging pot rack gently swaying, enough so that two of the pots are clanging together. (Imagine the scene from Poltergeist where Mom slides the chairs under the kitchen table only to turn around seconds later and find them stacked atop one another on top of the table.) Chill. Bumps.
All the windows were closed. We had pizza on paper plates for dinner. Neither of us had reason to touch the rack in the last six hours. I had emptied the dishwasher earlier in the day - about 3 p.m. - so the rack was loaded and balanced. It's heavy. It's iron. It's mounted to the ceiling. It don't move on its own.
It definitely wasn't moving and/or clanging while we were watching TV or when I grabbed a banana and a smoothie and headed upstairs minutes earlier.
My office sits above the kitchen. But right on top of the rack - nothing. It's actually the space between my couch and TV/entertainment center. If something would've jarred the floor/ceiling enough to move that rack, it would've been me.
It wasn't me.
What the hell was it?