Never
Come What May
- Joined
- Jun 20, 2000
- Posts
- 23,234
This weekend my mother and I went 'Up Maine' to work on the new condo we purchased. (painting, wood work, laying tile and the like) While the condo isn't large it has three floors; upper, ground and basement.
We worked most of the first day in (not so) pleasant mid 90s heat with no fan or air conditioning, and by the time evening rolled around I was beat.. but, of course, after spending the last few weeks staying up until 5am I couldn't get to sleep at a normal hour.
The next day we had to get up at 8am so when the carpet men came at 9am they could come pull up the (olive green) rug that's in the condo and replace it with whatever mom had ordered. I think I had dozed maybe for two hours when my mother woke me up to get ready and carry the queen size mattress we had been sleeping on from the upper master bedroom down to the basement so it wouldn't be in their way.
My eyes felt bloody and my limbs rubbery as I took it down two flights of stares, I only responded to my mother's protests that I was dragging it along the floor with a grumble but I finally got it to the basement without getting it too dirty. The basement was mercifully cool, at least ten degrees cooler than the rest of the house. It was also dark and had a mildewy smell to it, I plopped down the mattress and told my mom I was going to take a nap. I'd sleep down there until noon at which point the carpet people would be done - she said something about not being surprised since sleeping in the basement was a very Trollish thing to do.
So, after taking a nice shower, I laid down on the mattress with a pillow and proceeded to drift of to Dreamland.. or so was my hope. It often takes me a good hour, or hour and a half to fall asleep but after I do my mother has often told me a bomb could go off and I wouldn't notice. Not quite. About fifteen minutes after I had fallen asleep the fire alarms started to go off and woke me up.
It only went off for a few seconds, ten at most, but the sound echoed painfully through the concrete room and I stumbled off the mattress, groaning and such. I walked upstairs to the kitchen to see if anything was the matter.. Nope. The carpet delivery man and installer hadn't come. My mother had been on the phone on and off for the last half hour and no one at his work knew where he was, and he wasn't answering his pager. My mother was wondering out loud if he was a drinker and I said I was hungry. I got dressed and we went out for breakfast and I didn't think of it again.
Later on that evening when my mother decided to go to bed I went back down to the basement, my mother behind me. As I hefted up the thing my mother told me that this was going to be my room once we had settled in and made it a real room.. Though she had decided that half of it was going to be storage space.. I hauled the mattress back up the stairs to the bedroom with her talking behind me..
I wasn't sleepy so I stayed in the kitchen and read under the light for several hours, it was about 1AM when the alarm went off again.. it woke my mother up as well and we searched the house for the which one was beeping. It was the one in the center of the basement but as soon as we walked downstairs it stopped.
Mom called her boyfriend down in Mass. (he's an electrician) and told him about the problem. He said it was probably a bad wire or something and I should just pull it out if it happened again. (The alarms were sort of 'plugged in' to the house) He'd look at it the next time he came up..
Mom went to bed and I went back to reading in the kitchen. It happened again at 3am and I journeyed down to the basement taking a step latter with me. The alarm was shrill and irritating and I was going to take pleasure in getting back at it for my lost sleep.. I twisted it off the ceiling and found the sort of plug thing.. grasping it firmly I yanked it out and... it kept on ringing.
Not that the the alarm in my hands was ringing. The hole with the wires hanging out was.
Now.
Nevers are illogical sorts by nature but this was too much. Holes do not ring.
Based on this fact I got off the later and began to search the basement for another alarm.. the basement was bare other than the water heater in the corner (which I looked behind) and some quits mom had tossed there earlier (which I looked behind).
The ringing kept on going so I got a painting stick from upstairs and started digging around the hole in the basement ceiling.. nothing here.
I gave up in disgust and grabbed the steplatter, taking it to the kitchen, closing the basement door and heading upstairs to go to bed.
The next morning when I opened the basement door it was silent.
I'm not certain it's spooky but it seems stupid to me.
We worked most of the first day in (not so) pleasant mid 90s heat with no fan or air conditioning, and by the time evening rolled around I was beat.. but, of course, after spending the last few weeks staying up until 5am I couldn't get to sleep at a normal hour.
The next day we had to get up at 8am so when the carpet men came at 9am they could come pull up the (olive green) rug that's in the condo and replace it with whatever mom had ordered. I think I had dozed maybe for two hours when my mother woke me up to get ready and carry the queen size mattress we had been sleeping on from the upper master bedroom down to the basement so it wouldn't be in their way.
My eyes felt bloody and my limbs rubbery as I took it down two flights of stares, I only responded to my mother's protests that I was dragging it along the floor with a grumble but I finally got it to the basement without getting it too dirty. The basement was mercifully cool, at least ten degrees cooler than the rest of the house. It was also dark and had a mildewy smell to it, I plopped down the mattress and told my mom I was going to take a nap. I'd sleep down there until noon at which point the carpet people would be done - she said something about not being surprised since sleeping in the basement was a very Trollish thing to do.
So, after taking a nice shower, I laid down on the mattress with a pillow and proceeded to drift of to Dreamland.. or so was my hope. It often takes me a good hour, or hour and a half to fall asleep but after I do my mother has often told me a bomb could go off and I wouldn't notice. Not quite. About fifteen minutes after I had fallen asleep the fire alarms started to go off and woke me up.
It only went off for a few seconds, ten at most, but the sound echoed painfully through the concrete room and I stumbled off the mattress, groaning and such. I walked upstairs to the kitchen to see if anything was the matter.. Nope. The carpet delivery man and installer hadn't come. My mother had been on the phone on and off for the last half hour and no one at his work knew where he was, and he wasn't answering his pager. My mother was wondering out loud if he was a drinker and I said I was hungry. I got dressed and we went out for breakfast and I didn't think of it again.
Later on that evening when my mother decided to go to bed I went back down to the basement, my mother behind me. As I hefted up the thing my mother told me that this was going to be my room once we had settled in and made it a real room.. Though she had decided that half of it was going to be storage space.. I hauled the mattress back up the stairs to the bedroom with her talking behind me..
I wasn't sleepy so I stayed in the kitchen and read under the light for several hours, it was about 1AM when the alarm went off again.. it woke my mother up as well and we searched the house for the which one was beeping. It was the one in the center of the basement but as soon as we walked downstairs it stopped.
Mom called her boyfriend down in Mass. (he's an electrician) and told him about the problem. He said it was probably a bad wire or something and I should just pull it out if it happened again. (The alarms were sort of 'plugged in' to the house) He'd look at it the next time he came up..
Mom went to bed and I went back to reading in the kitchen. It happened again at 3am and I journeyed down to the basement taking a step latter with me. The alarm was shrill and irritating and I was going to take pleasure in getting back at it for my lost sleep.. I twisted it off the ceiling and found the sort of plug thing.. grasping it firmly I yanked it out and... it kept on ringing.
Not that the the alarm in my hands was ringing. The hole with the wires hanging out was.
Now.
Nevers are illogical sorts by nature but this was too much. Holes do not ring.
Based on this fact I got off the later and began to search the basement for another alarm.. the basement was bare other than the water heater in the corner (which I looked behind) and some quits mom had tossed there earlier (which I looked behind).
The ringing kept on going so I got a painting stick from upstairs and started digging around the hole in the basement ceiling.. nothing here.
I gave up in disgust and grabbed the steplatter, taking it to the kitchen, closing the basement door and heading upstairs to go to bed.
The next morning when I opened the basement door it was silent.
I'm not certain it's spooky but it seems stupid to me.
