Night Sounds by Tom Koperwas

Content that some readers may find upsetting – refer to the tags on the bottom of the page

Small towns are quiet places at night, especially the town of Hush. That’s what made it the ideal place for eight-year-old Sammy Keen to live in. The skinny boy with piercing dark eyes, a towering forehead, and large, floppy ears looked forward to bedtime every night, unlike his friends at school, who cherished the day and its fun activities under the bright sun. Changing into his pajamas, he’d jump into bed and turn off the lights. A smile would form on his face as he gazed at the open window and began to listen to the sounds outside, for Sammy was a gifted child with a wholly unique talent and the intelligence to utilize it.

Sammy would listen to the worms out on the lawn boring through the earth and emerging onto the dewy grass; the cats padding softly through the numerous backyards, silently pouncing on wild mice; the distant, faint sounds of people arguing in their homes; the dull impact of cars colliding on the far side of town; even the soft gusts of wind blowing in the fields out in the countryside. He could hear them all as he lay there, and he would think about those disparate sounds and pull them together, assembling them in his mind, building an intimate picture of the sleepy town no other person knew. Eventually, the boy would tire of listening, and like a happy nocturnal explorer back from his silent wanderings, he’d fall fast asleep.  

The brilliant, sensitive child had tried to tell his friends at school about his amazing talent, but they simply laughed it off. They said it was impossible, that he was just imagining it all. He tried confiding about his talent to his tall, good-natured dad, Phil, but he knew his dad had a hard time believing Sammy could hear all those distant sounds in the quiet hours of the night: the crimes that people committed in the dark, the drunken fights outside the taverns downtown, the spousal abuses, the occasional stabbings, even the odd murder or two. The things he told his dad about the people of Hush perplexed Phil, especially when he read about them in the papers over the next few days. He wondered how his little boy could have heard about all those things in advance of them being reported in the media.

Sammy loved the night sounds of Hush, for they were endlessly fascinating things to listen to.

Then one day, his dad sold the little house in town and moved his family to the big city. Sammy had a new room with a window overlooking a busy freeway. On the far side of the multi-laned highway, he could see factories and warehouses, places he’d never been to before. Excited by the prospects, he opened the window and hopped into bed. A whole new world of night sounds awaited him!

Unfortunately, the city was far too loud to discern any unique sounds over the deafening roar of the vehicles on the highway and the humming of the busy factories. Soon he fell asleep, but he wasn’t happy. That’s when Sammy had his first nightmare.

He was running on the top of an enormous revolving sphere that was turning toward him, spinning faster and faster. If he slowed down or stopped, he’d tumble backwards and fall into the arms of a monster waiting at the bottom of the sphere, brandishing bloody knives in its hands. Running faster and faster, he looked back and down at the terror awaiting him. Suddenly he felt himself slipping, and he fell. The rapidly turning sphere threw him into the hands of the grinning monster, who placed a razor-sharp blade next to his carotid artery…

For the next few weeks, Phil and his wife Gloria kept a close eye on Sammy, watching him as he grew grim and morose, lost weight, and wasted away. Sammy told his dad about the recurring nightmare of entrapment on the revolving sphere and the deathly fate that awaited him. Phil took his son, who had acquired the look of a haunted person, to a child psychiatrist. The doctor suggested the new night sounds of the city might be having an effect on the boy’s sleep. He recommended the parents sit up at night to observe the boy. They might see Sammy reacting directly to the new city sounds while sleeping; tossing and turning, moaning, etc. Perhaps one or more of the night sounds were generating the recurring nightmare.

That night, his parents slipped into the room after Sammy had fallen asleep and sat quietly observing him. When an ambulance pulled up to an accident on the freeway below the window, Sammy began to toss and turn. Later on, he rolled over and over as a large bomber from the local air force base flew overhead, carrying an atomic bomb. Phil and Gloria could see how the loud night sounds of the city were disturbing Sammy’s sleep. These were unfamiliar sounds to the boy, not the same kind of night sounds he had heard in the small town of Hush. Of course, he was asleep and wasn’t actively listening; but he heard them nevertheless, and the sounds had an effect on him.

Phil and Gloria decided to watch some TV and talk quietly about their sensitive boy’s condition.

It was near midnight when Phil went off to work driving a delivery truck, taking motors and parts to the industries in the city. Gloria decided she’d reenter Sammy’s bedroom and sit next to him for a while. She noticed how much the freeway had quieted down; how the vehicles seemed to whisper as they drifted by on the near-empty blacktop. She thought how readily Sammy could listen to the night sounds now, if he were only awake. A soft breeze blew into the room, bringing with it the distant sound of an industrial whistle blowing from a plant far across the highway.

Sammy turned over in his bed, and his mouth opened slightly. Gloria had the distinct feeling he was listening to the night sounds in his sleep. Soon, she heard a faint tapping sound. Standing up, she went to the window and cocked her ear. Sure enough, she heard it again; a slapping, percussive noise that repeated itself over and over again. And in the midst of roaring machines, she heard the lowing of cattle and the bleating and screaming of sheep, followed by the grinding of conveyors and meat-loading robots. Her mouth opened wide in disbelief.

Turning about, she looked at Sammy. His mouth was wide open, too, and he was moaning. He must have heard the whistle signaling the start of the night shift at the city abattoir: the commencement of the slaughtering, the various sounds from the killing floor, the groans and grunts of the animals as they collapsed when the captive bolt gun fired against their skulls. Then the terrible swishing sound of the knives slitting their carotid arteries…

In his nightmare, he was trapped in the abattoir, unable to escape the revolving wheel of death, falling into the hands of a grinning monster placing a razor-sharp blade next to his carotid artery…

Tom Koperwas

Image: A rural street at night with street lamps, trees and car headlights in the distance from Pixabay.com