Private Eyes Are Watching You.
Jonathan sat up suddenly. He had been laying on the couch, reading a book when what sounded like a knock came from the outside wall in his living room. That didn’t make sense to him. That meant someone would have to be knocking from the outside of the house, against a wall with no windows, for no discernable reason. And if someone was out there knocking, the motion detecting flood lights would have come on. He glanced over to the clock on the cable box. It read 12:45am. He chalked it up to late night jitters and paranoia. He lay back down and attempted to get back into his book.
Two minutes later, he heard another knock. He ever-so-slowly and methodically put his book down on the coffee table as if he was moving through molasses. As the book gently began to rest against the table, another knock came; this time much louder, and knocked at even, short intervals four times. He jumped up, and the book and his glass of water crashed onto the table, soaking the book, and his feet as the water sloshed its way off the coffee table. He knew he heard something that time, and that someone was on the other side of his wall. He began to think to himself that if someone was on the other side of that wall it wouldn’t take them long to realize that they could just move around to the back side of the house and have access through the windows. The worst part he thought was that the windows were all wide open. It was a beautiful night, and a nice cool breeze had been blowing in. His sudden fear had pushed his brain into fight or flight mode, and really more flight, than fight. He wanted nothing to do with going near those windows. The knock came again, this time more hurried. However, it sounded like it was moving up the side of the house… to the second level…where his wife and kids were sleeping.
Jonathan finally got hold of his senses, and ran out of the living room and upstairs to the master bedroom. His wife was sound asleep. He paused at the door in the dark. The bedroom window was open here also. And then he heard the knocking again. Right there at the window. The cause of the knocking sat staring directly at him; his bedroom blinds. The blinds had been gently swaying in the breeze, and occasionally would knock against the window sill when a slightly stiffer gust would blow in. Since this window and the windows in the living room were directly above and below each other, it must have caused the knocking to sound like it was coming from outside. How his wife managed to sleep through the commotion, he had no clue, but at least he now knew what had frightened him.
He headed back downstairs, and checked the back door. He noticed that the back light hadn’t been switched on, and cursed himself. Had someone really been out there he would have never known. He then went and shut the windows and continued to read. The motion lights came on a couple times, but when he looked outside, all he saw was some leaves blowing around, and once there was a rabbit munching on a dandelion. The knocking continued, but was much quieter with the windows shut, and no longer sounded like it was coming from outside. Jonathan finished another couple chapters, and decided to head to bed.
As he turned off the lights on the main level, and walked past the front door, he couldn’t help but feel like there was something out there. He peered out the tiny glass window of the door, and saw nothing but his quiet suburban street.
“Just a little jumpy still from earlier” he said to himself.
Still, he headed up the stairs at a quickened pace. He got ready for bed, closed the window in the bedroom, and then climbed into bed with his wife and promptly fell asleep.
The next morning his daughters were outside playing in the backyard. Amelia came running into the house.
“Daddy! Daddy! How come the side of the house is all dirty?” she exclaimed.
“What do you mean?” he asked. He and his wife were fairly methodical about keeping a clean house.
“There’s feetmarks on the house!” Amelia stated. Jonathan was about to ask Amelia to show them to him, but just then, Abigail came walking in. She was older by two years then Amelia, and with all the wisdom her five years could muster stated “Amelia, don’t you know ANYTHING?? That’s where the doggy climbed up last night!”
“What dog?” Jonathan asked.
“What dog?” asked Amelia.
“The doggy that talked to me last night.” Said Abigail. “We talked about you Daddy. I wanted to come get you so you could meet him, but he said I couldn’t. That I couldn’t tell…UH OH! I wasn’t supposed to tell you about him.”
“You must have been dreaming.” He stated. “Dogs don’t talk, and can’t climb houses”.
“This one can! He’s a big doggy. He has red eyes, and looks scary, but was nice to me. He said tonight we could go play together.”
“Abby, it was just a dream.”
“IT WAS NOT!!! I’ll show you! Come look where he climbed up.”
Jonathan took both his daughter’s hands and walked outside. They led him around to the same area he thought he heard the knock the night before; the outside wall of the living room that had no windows. And up the sides of the house, in the siding, where what appeared to be dried muddy foot prints. Large, dirty, somewhat canine looking with pads and claw marks gouged into the vinyl siding. All the way up to the second floor. He couldn’t see any marks, but he scanned over the backside of the house looking for more prints, or anything out of the ordinary. And at his daughter’s window, he saw that the screen appeared to be pried at and bent from the window.
“See daddy, the doggy wanted to play. He said we can tonight when he comes back!”
Abigail, let go of Jonathan’s hand, and ran off to play on the swingset.
