Andy likes gadgets. He also likes bargains. Some of the bargain gadgets he brings home are perplexing. Some are amusing. Occasionally, they are haunted - objects banished to Liquidation World for their otherworldly behaviour. Such is our new alarm clock.
This week Andy brought home an RCA clock radio/cd player for our bedroom. The thought is that we can listen to music as we fall asleep, and the device will turn itself off by a timer. It will also wake us with our choice of music.
The first night
Andy plugged in the clock radio and went to sleep. I was out late at the Sistahood Slam. I noticed, as I tiptoed into the room just past midnight, that I had a relatively easy time finding my way to bed. I could not understand why, but I was tired and did not think much about it.
Later the first night
I had a bit of trouble falling asleep, with poems whirling through my head. It had been a great night! I fell partway asleep then woke most of the way up. That's when I noticed the glow, or more accurately, glare of the new clock. Its light was approximately equal to that of a half ton truck with its high beams on. How could this be a night time clock? I must have woke up 3 or 4 times in the night. Every time I looked at it, it seemed brighter. Normally I sleep easily. With that thing shining less than a foot from my face, it was a struggle to rest.
The next morning
I told Andy that the light was too bright. He said he would do something about it.
The second night
I came to bed pretty early (being totally exhausted from the late, bright, night before). Andy had turned the clock radio to face the wall. Now the brightness was not a problem, but telling the time was. Never mind, I did not need to know what time it was. I needed to sleep. I slept.
At some ungodly hour in the middle of the night, we awoke to the simultaneous shriek of the radio blasting staticky awfulness, and the alarm going BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP! This sound made our smoke detector sound like a soothing melody, and it was less than a foot from my head. Who brought this horror bomb into my refuge of rest? Please make it stop! Andy fumbled and cursed in the dark until I implored him to just turn on the light. He could not figure out how to turn off the alarm. I implored him to just pull out the plug!!! So he had to move the headboard of our bed because the plug is on the wall behind the headboard, so I sort of partway got up until he yanked the cord out of the wall, threw the clock on the floor and replaced the headboard. Then we slept.
Approximately 10 minutes later
BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP! the unplugged, dark-faced clock radio was beeping again! Andy scrambled in the dark on the floor to find it, pushing buttons and saying more bad words. Finally he discovered the cover to the power failure battery compartment, forcibly removed the backup battery and threw the clock back on the floor. We slept.
I came home from work. Andy was working on the clock radio, trying to figure it out. Even with the brightness turned all the way down, it was way too bright. He brought home a piece of darkened film from work and taped it over the display of the clock. We went into the bathroom together and closed the door. It was completely dark. The clock was dim enough for sleeping. Good.
Andy went out to pick up Fiona from school and drive her to dance class. Alex was not yet home from work. I was home alone with the haunted alarm clock, which Andy had once again plugged in, now facing out, in our bedroom.
BEEEEP BEEEEP BEEEEP It took me a moment to realise, it was going again. This time I could not stop myself from laughing. I went upstairs and phoned Andy, from our bedroom. I got his cell phone voicemail, and left him a nice beepful message of hysterical laughter and whining about our ongoing problem with the awful, vile, evil, annoying alarm clock radio. Before I hung up, I allowed it to beep a few more times into my voicemail message. Then I hung up and tried to figure out how to turn off the alarm. I found a button marked "OFF." I tried it. The beeping stopped. Before I could find out if the stopping was permanent or temporary I left the house and moved to another country. Well, actually I went to the church for my sandwich-making group. But leaving the country sure sounds like a more dramatic ending (I HOPE) to this story.
So far the clock is quiet. Will we sleep through the night? Will the ghost of air raid siren waken us again? Will there be peace in this traumatized home?
question: what do you think will happen?
mompoet - going to bed now - perhaps to sleep
ps - "I HOPE" refers to hoping it is really the end of the story, not to hopeing that I will leave the country