What was that??

Boy Wonder and I were watching End Game, a 3hr Marvel movie, the last in The Avengers series. As usual, tiredness was tugging at the corners of my eyes (I’m always tired and usually in bed by 10pm because I get up early) and I was wondering how I was going to make it all the way through the movie without nodding off and majorly pissing my son off, who’s patience with my “old bag” behaviour was wearing very thin (this was our second attempt as the last time I was drooling in my collar within the first hour and only taking in snippets during that time.. it’s hard to watch a movie through closed eyelids). We were engrossed in a scene when we heard a loud thump, thump, thump. First, we looked to the roof for the usual nightly possum entertainment, but it wasn’t the possums. Each night we hear them scramble across the roof like a herd of elephants; thumping, falling, sliding, raking their claws trying to find purchase, bouncing, then rolling down the steep slope, only to fly with momentum off the end and over the gutter, into the nearby tree when they cling for a few moments to get their shit together after the nightly ride. The possums in Camberwell are either bat-shit crazy, because they repeat this behaviour nightly, or off their noggins on some kind of natural smack. Anyway, I digress.

The thumping sound was loud but oddly sonic in nature, like steps. It definitely sounded like something or someone on the roof. The movie is instantly paused, and I marvel at his dexterity in a crisis (I’d be groping and molesting the whole couch looking for the bloody remote, then peering at it myopically, trying to see the buttons in the dark). We both froze, hearts in our mouths, listening. Another softer noise sounds and my son teleports to the kitchen where he grabs the massive carving knife, and I note that he’s not waving it like a scared little boy, he’s holding it firmly by the handle in his fist, arm raised above his shoulder, ready to strike down and do some serious damage. Well shit a brick, this propels me into action, and I grab the next sized knife down in the block and follow him. All the lights are out, and I hiss at him, my whisper quavering because I’m shitting myself “don’t turn the lights on... they don’t know our house and it’s an advantage for us that we can navigate in the dark”. I can just see his eyes and I see them narrow, like he thinks I watch too many crime shows, but it makes sense to him.

First we tiptoe downstairs to the bottom level. We pause at the bottom of the stairs, looking through the windows at the backyard, which is pretty well lit by the moonlight. There lots of branch movement but no human shaped shadows. We tiptoe towards the cupboard, which is open and I’m wondering why. Then I remember I put some crap in there yesterday and obviously forgot to close the bloody door. I’m straining in the dark to see if the shapes match what should be in there. My eye balls are aching because I’ve got my eyes so wide open in an effort to see in the dark they’re positively protruding from my skull and I’m sure I look like a lemur, only not cute... probably more like Dobby, the House Elf.

Boy Wonder goes past me and springs into the dark bathroom. I hold my breath... waiting for a someone’s startled yelp at my son’s sudden appearance. My butt is clenching and unclenching so much I could chew a fucking Minty with it.

Finding downstairs safe, we stealthily make our way back upstairs to the main level and go room by room. I’m expecting Boy Wonder to drop into a commando roll across the carpet, but he keeps his ‘this is serious shit’ hat on. He is curiously angry... I’m trying not to shallow pant myself into a faint. We see nothing. Then I remember the Miss Marvellous doesn’t lock her door to the outside deck and if someone is on the roof, they’re going to get in through her room. I whisper this to my son and his face sets in a hard line. I think in his head he thinks “Oh you better bring your end game, arsehole!” I swallow hard and follow in his wake.

Oh, Lordy I’m getting scared as we tiptoe our way up the stairs. On the landing, we peer onto the bathroom and find it empty. He goes into his room while I stand in the door way of my daughters room, trying to see in the dark and knowing it resembles a tip and there will be shit everywhere and if there’s ever going to be a moment when we stand on something small and sharp and makes us yelp and scream expletives, it will be in this room. I peer through the open door to the glass French doors that lead to her deck... I can’t see anyone outside, but I wait for my boy because I’m shit scared. I look into his room and frown as I see him crouching like a Kungfu Master, knife in his fist and raised above his shoulder; scowling into his room. Dude! What the fuck... your room is empty, get your arse over here.  We tentatively tip toe into the messy space that is Miss Marvellous' room and shuffle rather than step so we can clear a path and avoid stepping on something sharp.  As I sweep my foot, a pin inserts itself in the pad of my big toe and it is all I can do not to squeal like a stuck pig.  I lower myself at the pace of a sloth and remove the offending stick impaled in my toe and continue to scope the room.  The deck is clear, the roof is clear, and her room is clear, so we back out of the room and gently make our way back down the stairs at the main level again.

We stand at the bottom of the stairs and listen hard.  The house creaks as it expands and contracts with the contrasting temperatures inside and outside.  Then suddenly something glass like is knocked over and rolls across the hardwood floor in the main living space.  JFC! Someone is in the house. At this point, my butt would have sucked that Minty in and swallowed it whole. My heart thuds so hard it rocks me in place and the roar of my blood rushing through my veins is loud in my ears.  I am so terrified at this moment and although you may think you know how you’d react, when it actually happens, any bravado just leaves you.  Terror and adrenalin make you so alert, you think you’re positively glowing with it in the dark.  Boy Wonder’s manly ‘protector’ instinct kicks in and grabs my arm and pulls me behind him. Part of me is willing to hide behind him but I’m at war with my motherly instinct to protect my young and acutely aware that it’s a fine line between being a lioness and emasculating my son. I chose to remain behind him. The house creaks loudly and I fight the urge to crawl to safety in his arse crack. My butt is now contracting at an alarming rate and I hope it doesn’t consume my pants.

We carefully tiptoe into the main room, which is dark, and we’re holding our breath. We soundlessly take in the kitchen, dining area, living spaces and see them empty.  Then I spy the cat in the corner looking to the side of the couch and in my head,  I’m whispering “OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod”  We creep forward and around the couch, the fight instinct outweighing the flight instinct because my boy looks like he could gut a mountain lion.  Then I look at the cat in the corner again and see that she looks guilty. WTF?  I squat down low and see a glass on its side and the contents all over the floor and spattered on the wall, but no one hiding behind the couch.  I stand up suddenly and announce to my son that the stupid cat knocked over the glass and there’s no one here.  We both near collapse with relief and deflate on the couch.  There’s no longer a question of 'if' I’ll stay awake for the movie, there’s now a question of if I’ll be able to fall asleep at any point during the night.

We discuss the whole thing for a good 15 minutes then resume the movie but we’re all antsy now.  Every time the house creeks we jump and pause the movie.  The cat decides to get her crazy on and zooms up and down all the stairs and through the house, keeping us on edge.  Boy Wonder utters that he hates this house and our cat.  At that moment I share his opinion because I'm all flighty and nervous.

Half an hour later there’s a distinctive noise outside, the sensor light comes on and the trees shake.  Boy Wonder is having NONE OF IT!  He grabs the knife again and tears outside, running through the yard with murder in his eyes while I watch through the picture window upstairs.  I see him running around the perimeter of the house like a madman and then I watch the fat arsed possum jump from tree to tree, snapping branches and activating the sensor light; shaking the trees as it ambles across the branches while my son loses his fucking mind outside.