On Sunday and Monday I was out of town for a business trip, leaving the kids in the capable hands of my mom and Mike. I talked to the kids on Sunday night before they went to sleep, but didn’t get a chance to talk to Mike again until the next day, when we chatted via instant message.
Heather: Hey! I’m on a quick break. How’s it going?
Mike: Good, but I’m so tired from last night.
H: Oh no, did one of the kids have a bad night?
M: No, but there was a freaky incident in the backyard. At 12:30 am there was banging just outside our window.
H: WHAT THE F! Did you call 911?
M: I thought it was an axe murderer.
H: DID YOU CALL 911?!?!
H: I’m dying. OMG
M: Let me tell you what happened!
M: I was starting to drift off to sleep when suddenly I heard a metallic clanging – a banging – directly outside our glass door. I shot up in bed, holding my breath, and listened. Soon the metallic banging happened again. And then again. And again. Each time it seemed to get closer. It really seemed as if it were happening mere inches on the other side of the glass. The hair stood up on the back of my neck as I tried to peer outside from the bed, but all I could see was darkness. And Rigby was going NUTS.
H: I can’t believe you didn’t call 911. OMG. What if the murderer comes back?
H: Wait, are YOU the murderer? Are you tricking me, Murderer?
M: Let me finish!
M: After a couple minutes of sitting up in silence, I laid back down only to hear the banging start up again. What was out there? Was there a person — some mass murderer, thief, or otherwise scary person — directly outside the glass?! I tried to tell myself it was something else, but with the kids down the hall I was all nerves, worrying, and could not sleep.
H: You’re so lucky I wasn’t home.
M: I decided to go outside and see what the source of the noise was.
H: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?!?!
M: I was fully aware that if this were a horror film people in the theater would scream at the screen, “No! Don’t do it, you idiot! Stay inside!”
H: Like me right now.
M: Yes. ANYWAY.
M: I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I thought there were a chance that a psycho was outside. I looked around for my baseball bat or some other blunt object I could use as a weapon, but didn’t see any, so I went outside bare handed.
H: I mean, you kind of deserved to die.
M: As I stepped outside my hands were shaking and part of me expected to be ambushed at any moment. I quickly turned on the outside light, illuminating the area right outside our bedroom and I saw – nothing.
H: So it was a ghost murderer?
M: LET ME FINISH.
M: I walked around to inspect further when I suddenly heard the clanging beside me. I about crapped myself as I spun toward the sound, only to see a bird pecking at one of those overturned metal buckets we put drinks in. Each peck made the familiar metallic banging sound.
H: OMG A BIRD AT NIGHT? THAT IS CREEPY.
M: Creepier than an axe murderer?
H: Maybe. Did you kill it with fire?
M: …why would I do that?
H: Teach it a lesson?
M: I was happy it was a bird and not someone trying to distract me so they could sneak in and take our kids.
H: Why. Why would you put that in my head. Why.
H: We need to move somewhere without birds or murderers.
All joking aside, if this had happened when I was home, I would have called 911 before that bird’s beak could hit the bucket a second time. Especially if I was the only adult home! But going forward, no one will be outside exploring strange banging noises without, at minimum, a can of hairspray and a lighter. I’m also exploring the idea of living in a bubble, I’ll let you know how that turns out.
This is the only picture I have of a bird, but it looks like it’s up to something.