The Hum

A friend came over for dinner and we watched what I call a scary movie. I’m not a fan, but she liked it, so I went along. After it was over, I was less scared and more confused at the unbelievable actions of the characters. I mean, if you’re scared, you run away, not investigate and go toward danger. Who does that?

My friend left and I was cleaning up the remnants of our impromptu fondue platter. It was not my finest cooking hour. Then I heard a strange dull humming sound. Hummmm. Hummm. Humm. Like maybe the refrigerator running? I didn’t think much of it and just continued my clean up duties.

When I took everything into the kitchen, I was puzzled. I couldn’t hear the hum anymore and there was the refrigerator right there. 

Looking at the piles of mess in the kitchen, I decided to finish the bottle of wine and watch a little TV. The old Dick Van Dyke Show was on and it was my favorite episode, the one with the walnut aliens. That show was a laugh riot with a funny take on aliens. Why do aliens portrayed in media always take on a weird vibe and shape?

Oh well, the wine spent for the evening, but I still wasn’t tired. So I decided to read a little. There it was again. Hummmm. Hummm. Humm. But this time it was a little louder and sounded like an engine. I thought maybe a motorcycle was passing and looked out the window. There were no lights, but I did see some bugs buzzing around the window.  That’s it, bugs, I thought.  

I continued to read, but the sound kept getting more intense. Hummmm. Hummm. Humm. It almost had a rhythmic cadence.  Hummmm. Hummm. Humm. It seemed mechanical, but the sound kept getting louder and softer, louder and softer.  Maybe it was the TV?  I hoped.

I don’t mind admitting, I was a little freaked out now. I needed a distraction, so I decided to do the dishes. I turned up the water and clinked the dishes and glasses as loud as I could to drowned out the sound, but I couldn’t quell the moaning noise in my head.  Hummmm. Hummm. Humm.

I went back into the living room and heard the sounds of rain. I scolded myself for my silliness. I let that stupid movie get into my head. I was imagining things everywhere.

So, I sat down to read again, but after a minute or so, it started again. Hummmm. Hummm. Humm. It was louder now, haunting. And I could swear I heard breathing too. I focused on the noise. It was under the couch – right under me. It sounded like a cat purring. But I didn’t have a cat.

Maybe something got in when my friend left. Could be a cat or even a bobcat? I heard sightings of some recently in the area.

I shirked back to the corner of the couch huddled in pillows. I was afraid. No, I was petrified. It was taunting me. Hummmm. Hummm. Humm. It was getting louder.

I wanted to run, but I was trapped-paralyzed by fear. I couldn’t move. It was getting faster, egging me on, tempting me to look. I didn’t want to look, but I had to.

Ok. Think, be smart. I needed a plan. I’d drop my book and the loud noise will coax it out. Good. Ok now drop it, I told myself. But then I hesitated, do I really want to know? I was fighting with myself back and forth in my mind. Yes, I had to know. I couldn’t stay on the couch cowering forever. It would not rule my life. Then, the humming was softer. Hummmm. Hummm. Humm. It was telling me I should look.

1-2-3, I dropped it and quickly retreated to the top of the couch. Nothing happened. Curious. Now I really had to know. I dropped the remote. Nothing-just the Hummmm. Hummm. Humm.


This is getting ridiculous. I can’t go on like this. Now I was mad. I needed a new plan. A proactive approach. Defense. I took a few of the pillows on my lap and quickly shoved them under the couch for a barrier. Still nothing.


I saw my phone next to me and stuck my phone down under the couch to take a picture between the pillows and see what was there. There was a glow-like two shining eyes.

OK, I was dealing with a wild animal or something. They always say when dealing with an animal, you need to seem confident. They smell fear. So I yelled aloud Get out! Get out! to inform it of my presence. Still nothing.   

Now I had to act. I armored up by wrapping myself in the afghans on the couch, grabbed the metal art piece on the side table and the lamp next to the couch, removing the shade. With one swift move, I told myself, I needed to poke at it and then I could hit it with the heavy art. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was a plan. It had to work.

With catlike agility, I jumped from the couch to the floor screeching like a warrior and stabbed underneath the couch to and fro.  Nothing.

So I sliced with the lamp like a sword sweeping it under the couch and heard a swirl and a thud. I got it. I darted my eyes toward the wall and saw my offender. I couldn’t believe it. There it was creepily grinning at me from ear to ear with blue eyes and a big red nose. How could I be so stupid? I shook my head and picked it up. It was a clown doll my niece left the last time I babysat. The batteries were running out. That was the Hummmm. Hummm. Humm.

I plopped back on the couch laughing at the fuss I made. I guess I’m one of the idiots from the It movie I watched earlier. I went toward the danger. But I know one thing for sure. Yes, I definitely hate clowns.

Copyright (c) Suzanne Rudd Hamilton

Published by suzanneruddhamilton

I write anything from novels and children's books to plays to relate and retell everyday life experiences in a fun-filled read with heart, hope and humor. A former journalist and real estate marketing expert, I am a transplant from Chicago, now happily living in southwest Florida to keep warm and sunny all year round. You can find me at www.suzanneruddhamilton.com

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