Because It's Still Cool To Blog

Midnight Call

Last night was like many nights. I was up working. The house and neighborhood were still. It was midnight and I was getting ready to shut down for the night. And then the doorbell rang.

I froze like a deer in the headlights. Midnight calls are never a good thing. Who could it be? I didn't want to snap off the light and show that I had heard the call and was hiding. I thought, okay, maybe I just imagined it. Who the hell would ring the bell at midnight anyway? The rest of the house was pitch black.

Then the doorbell rang a second time.

My heart started racing. Who could it be? My bizarre ex-boyfriend from a million years ago who still sends me mail? A stranger who actually needed my help (no, it couldn’t be, the bell would ring in a more urgent pattern)? A friend who needed me (no, my phone was on…the people I would open the door for at midnight have my phone number)? A robber or a rapist hoping that someone up at this hour would answer the door thinking it was someone who really needed help?

The doorbell rang a third time.

I still couldn’t get out of my chair. I sat very, very still. A few minutes later I listened to the crunch of snow and ice as the person left. I quietly got out of my chair and listened to the steady breathing of Jon and Laurel from the hallway. I went downstairs to double check that the door was securely locked. I went back upstairs and into Laurel’s room and gently rested my hand on her head. I contemplated sleeping with her because my mama bear radar was all lit up. Then I peeked out her window, grateful for the darkness all around me.

Everything outside was still, wintery, beautiful. Whoever rang the bell had moved on.

It seems pointless to hypothesize about who came to my door at midnight, but I still wish I knew. Would you answer the door at midnight?