HUM

by Dan Hawley

  1:39 a.m.—Subject stands and walks to the middle of the room.

  Amanda licked her dry lips. Her throat suddenly felt tight and hot. She let out a quiet croak.

  “What’s that, Mandy?” Jerry asked but didn’t look over from his desk. Amanda’s hands trembled, and a shaky finger clicked once more.

  She watched with horrified fascination as the boy just stood there, staring at the wall.

  Suddenly, and she knew what was coming next, the boy cocked his head. Click.

  1:41 a.m.—Subject moves to the wall opposite the bed and…presses ear against it.

  There was nothing for Amanda to do but press on. She fumbled with the play button, clicking around it twice before successfully advancing the video. Her pulse smacked against her neck, thudding loudly in her ears. Shivering gooseflesh spread across her skin. No amount of licking would keep the small beads of cold sweat from her lip as it quivered. The liquid darkened her mask. Finally—click.

  1:47 a.m.—Subject returns to bed.

  Amanda stared at the monitor silently. The odd little boy, now balled up on the bed, was neatly tucked under the blankets with a thumb in his mouth. “There’s no way,” Amanda said finally with a rush of exhaled air.

  “What?”

  This time Jerry looked over. Concern wracked his face as he did. Amanda was as pale as snow and shivering like she was sitting in a pile of it. “Mandy?”

  Jerry got up so fast his chair wheeled back into a filing cabinet, knocking over some recording equipment that rested on top. At once, he was beside her. He knelt and spun her chair so she was facing him.

  For a moment, her eyes just stared into the nothingness above Jerry’s head, her breath sharp and halted. The beads of cold sweat had joined together, making her skin gleam in the light of the monitor. “Mandy!?”

  Jerry grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake. It was like a scene from an old movie where the helpless female is catatonic and the strong male lead tries to bring her to her senses.

  It was all he could think to do. It seemed to work.

  Amanda’s far-off eyes blinked once, then again. Then she focused and allowed them to fall and meet Jerry’s concerned gaze.

  “Jerry,” she said, grabbing his sweater with both hands. Jerry’s eyes grew wild with fear and surprise.

  “What!? What, I’m here, what!?” he almost screamed, right in her face.

  She blinked again and spoke calmly, “Call Dr. Luu.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Samantha was snoring quietly on the couch beside Jason as he surfed aimlessly through the tv channels, unable to find anything that would hold his attention. Distract him, in fact. He was starting to doze, though, eyes heavy from lack of sleep and the morning’s stress.

  Someone won a trip to Hawaii on The Price Is Right. Who the hell was traveling right now anyway? Jason thought. Stupid bastards, spreading COVID around like it’s no big deal. How many people were dead in the U.S. now? A hundred thousand? Maybe a hundred and fifty. That’s a lot of dead people in a few short months. This thing was serious, regardless of what the tin hat wearing conspiracy theorists said. He flipped over to an infomercial selling exercise equipment. The all-in-one machine that can fit in any home gym could do it all, apparently. The buff spokesperson and his sexy, scantily clad assistant demonstrated how easy the equipment was to use and pay for in three easy payments.

  Jason frowned and absentmindedly grabbed at his belly fat as he contemplated his physical fitness.

  No room for a home gym here, he thought. But I really do need to start working out again. Tomorrow maybe. I’ll get up early and at least do some bodyweight stuff, maybe go for a run at lunch.

  He had never been this lazy in his life. Tired and lethargic, constantly sapped of all energy.

  Gravity pulled at his weak eyelids as he stared at the television. Some cooking show was on now with a portly older woman talking to the camera—something about selecting the perfect victim.

  What? No, that couldn’t be right.

  The perfect cut of meat, she said.

  Jason’s head dipped slowly as sleep threatened to come. He blinked and muted the tv; this lady was talking crazy.

  The camera now focused in on the woman’s hands as she handled a large shoulder of beef. She flipped the thick, red muscle over in her hands, poking it and massaging oil into the flesh. The oil intensified the color of the meat into deep crimson, and the shoulder glistened in the studio lights.

  Jason’s stomach turned and a queasy feeling brewed in his guts. Still, he watched on.

  In the muted silence, behind the snoring beside him and the traffic sounds far away, was a familiar sound, teasing his eardrums, pulsing against his brain. The hum throbbed in his temples as he watched Chef Portly Pants addressing the camera once again. Her once pristine white chef coat was now a mess of dark blood around her thick midsection. The large butcher’s knife in her right hand was coated with pieces of flesh and dripped crimson. The camera zoomed in slowly, closing in on her round face. Her teeth were bared and savage, her light-blue eyes crazed and bloodshot. What was she saying?

  Jason’s dazed eyes followed her mouth as it moved, the hum pulsing behind the walls and in his mind. Wah wah, wah wah.

  Her mouth was now following the slow pulse of the hum.

  Muh wah, muh wah.

  Jason’s eyes slowly blinked as he relaxed into the coming sleep.

  “Muh wah,” she said, in perfect time with the hum. Her eyes were intense and unchanging, staring at Jason. Her jaw opened and closed, and somehow her shrill and raspy voice now merged with the hum in sickening harmony, distantly screaming, “Mur dah! mur der!”

  Finally Jason’s eyes closed and his body went limp as he tumbled into the dark abyss of a fitful slumber.

  * * *

  Samantha’s eyes flew open to the sound of rapid clacking as her phone vibrated against the wooden tabletop. She grabbed it quickly in a half daze. It was her mom. Samantha looked at the screen longingly, craving to talk with her mother; to hear the familiar sound of home. But she let the call go to voicemail. She listened quietly, hearing only the sounds of their apartment. Jason’s steady, quiet breaths as he slept sitting up, his head tilted back against the cushion of the couch at an uncomfortable-looking angle, the tv remote gripped loosely in his hand.

  Behind that was another familiar sound.

  Something unrelenting. Incessant.

  The canvas upon which all other sounds were painted. The hum.

  Samantha’s eyes moved from the peaceful-looking Jason to her phone, which notified her of a new voicemail. She needed to talk to her parents; she needed to hear their voices and feel their love. She wanted to tell them about the baby but thought that maybe she wouldn’t. She couldn’t bring herself to do it right now anyway. It was still all too fresh. And even though Samantha knew that miscarriage wasn’t a rare occurrence, it felt surreal and not something she wanted to talk about—at least not yet.

  And it may not even have been a miscarriage, Samantha thought. We won’t know for sure until the tests come back.

  Samantha looked up at the tv and wondered why the cooking show was muted. Jason twitched in his sleep. Samantha turned her head to see a look of what seemed like pain flash across his face and disappear. Samantha lay for a moment longer, propped up on her elbow. Jason stirred again. He flinched. Samantha sat up, facing Jason and clutching her arms to her chest. Jason grunted and twitched.

  “Mmph.”

  The remote control slipped from his hand and landed on the floor with a smash, sending the two batteries from inside flying in separate directions. Samantha could only watch with frightened eyes. “Mm uh,” he muttered, his voice like a pained moan. Sam’s eyes welled with liquid, and her jaw clenched with a squeak of her teeth.

  “Muh wah! Muh wah!”

  Jason’s voice built to a fever pitch, his eyes closed tight under his sweaty brow.

  “Mur dah!”

  Samantha didn’t know what els
e to do, so she pressed her feet against his side and shook him. Gently at first, but then with more and more force until Jason’s eyes flew open and his limp body became rigid and aware. He sat straight up, breathing heavily and clutching his chest. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and looked over at Sam. She looked like a beaten puppy, making herself as small as possible on the couch. Her face was scrunched, her eyes wide with fear.

  “Babe?” Jason asked.

  Samantha just continued to stare at him with that look of terror.

  “What happened?”

  Jason extended his arm towards her. She pulled back slightly at first but relented as she looked into his eyes. Samantha saw her man there, looking just as scared as she was. She bolted towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Oh, Jesus Jay!” she cried as the pools in her eyes finally breached the dam. “You were having a crazy dream, I guess. Convulsing and saying something…I don’t know what, but it was so scary, Jay. Terrifying!”

  Jason held her tight as she soaked his shoulder with her tears.

  “I’m sorry, Sam,” was all he could muster. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  After a while, Samantha and Jason finally peeled themselves apart. They looked at each other with knowing looks.

  Jason broke the silence: “We look rough.”

  Samantha wiped at her face and nodded. “I’m going to shower. Will you come?”

  “Of course.”

  They got up and went to the bathroom. Samantha turned on the shower and it whooshed to life. Without any words, the couple disrobed and hopped in under the water that hissed and eventually steamed up the room.

  It was a small shower, so they had to take turns soaking, then lathering, then rinsing. The hot water calmed Samantha, and she began to relax. Jason took the pink loofah from her hands and gently soaped her back. He finished, and she turned around.

  “I love you,” she said as she looked deep into his dark-blue eyes. Jason’s mouth twitched into a smile as he lifted his hands to cup her face.

  “I love you too,” he whispered and kissed her quivering lips. As they kissed, Jason’s phone lit up silently on the counter.

  * * *

  “Dr. Luu’s office called,” Jason said as they toweled off the remnants of their shower.

  “Oh?” Samantha replied.

  Jason dialed his voicemail and set it to speakerphone. Dr. Luu’s voice asked Jason if he could make it in the next day. Jason looked at Sam with a worried frown on his face.

  “He wants me to come in a day early,” Jason said. “That can’t be good.”

  He ended the voicemail and hung his towel on the rack.

  “Maybe it’s good news,” Samantha offered. “Maybe he knows what’s going on now and can help. He wants to help quicker than Wednesday.”

  “Maybe,” Jason said unconvincingly.

  The rest of the night, Jason couldn’t stop running scenarios over in his mind. Why had the doctor called so late? What was so urgent that he wanted to move the appointment up? Jason worried while his mind played different clips of him standing in Dr. Luu’s office, being told horrible, life-changing news. Cancer, a tumor, deep-seated psychological issues that would take a whole team of quacks to shrink his head down to nothing.

  Samantha had fallen into a deep sleep almost immediately after her head hit the pillow, completely drained from the intense day. Jason tossed and turned for most of the night, unable to shut his mind off. When sleep finally did come, it was fitful and provided little rest.

  CHAPTER 26

  The alarm was calling out from inside Jason’s end table. He cursed and pulled open the drawer, grabbed the phone, hit snooze, and rolled over with it still in his hand. He didn’t bother pulling out any of the other things in the drawer to put them back where they were before he went to sleep; he just left the drawer hanging open.

  The alarm crowed again, and Jason fought the urge to throw the phone at the wall. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He was alone. Samantha was already up and in the other room. With no enthusiasm, Jason got out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and left the bedroom.

  Samantha was stretched out on her yoga mat, her face aglow with perspiration.

  “Morning,” Jason said as he walked into the kitchen. “Morning,” Sam replied, a little breathlessly.

  Jason grabbed a cup of coffee from the pot and added some cream from the fridge. The smell pulled at his senses, sharpening his focus as his brain prepared for caffeine. He watched Sam for a moment, jealous of her energy. He took a sip of the bitter liquid, headed into his office, and closed the door.

  Sam looked up when she heard the familiar click and stared after him. Her phone came to life beside her, vibrating on the floor. When she answered, it was her doctor’s office, asking if she could come in that afternoon.

  I guess we’ll both be getting bad news today, she thought and rested her glistening body down into child’s pose.

  Later, Samantha was sitting at the kitchen island, a plate with half a sandwich in front of her. She heard the keyboard cease its clicking, and soon Jason opened the door to the office.

  “Hey,” he said meekly.

  “Hey,” Sam replied. “How’s it going in there?” “Productive,” he said. “But I’m so tired. I don’t think I slept at all last night.”

  On another plate next to Sam was a sandwich stuffed with turkey and cheese. A dark-green pickle lay beside it.

  “That’s the last of the sandwich meat and bread,” Sam said.

  “That’s ok; we can get some stuff tonight after I get home if you want.”

  Jason sat down and grabbed the hefty sandwich in both hands.

  “Sure.” Sam thought a moment. “I have an appointment this afternoon too.”

  Jason’s sandwich stopped mid-air.

  “The same time as my appointment?”

  “Basically, yeah.”

  “Shit,” Jason said. “I wanted to be there for that, for you. Will you be ok? I could reschedule…”

  “No,” Samantha interrupted. “It’s ok, I’ll be fine. We need to know what your doctor says too.”

  Jason finished his meal quickly, thanked Sam, and gave her a peck on the cheek.

  “I have a bunch of stuff to do before I take off later, so I’m gonna head back to work, ok?”

  Jason got up and rested his hand on Sam’s shoulder. She put down her fork, clasped his hand in hers, and gave it a little squeeze.

  “Ok.”

  At 3:30 p.m., Jason emerged from the office again. Samantha was focused on a sudoku puzzle on the couch. He brushed his teeth, showered, and got dressed. When he came back out into the living room, Samantha was putting on her shoes.

  “Want me to drop you off?” Jason asked as he headed towards the apartment door.

  “No, that’s ok. I’d like a walk. It’s only a few blocks anyway.”

  Jason slid on his shoes and jacket, and the couple headed out the door. The elevator dinged, and the door opened to the lobby. Samantha leaned in and gave Jason a quick kiss.

  “Good luck,” she whispered.

  “You too, babe.”

  Jason watched her walk away as the chrome door closed, and he descended to the parking level.

  * * *

  After parking at the clinic, Jason checked his phone. Samantha hadn’t texted. It hasn’t been that long, he thought; she probably hasn’t seen the doctor yet. Jason put his phone in his pocket, slipped on his surgical mask, and headed into the sleep clinic.

  A few people were waiting in the plastic chairs in the waiting room, but the receptionist took Jason back to Dr. Luu’s office immediately.

  “Hello, Jason!” Dr. Luu exclaimed from behind his desk. The receptionist smiled and left Jason standing in the doorway. He hesitated.

  “Well? Come on in.” Dr. Luu stood up and gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

  “Hey, doc,” Jason said as he entered the room and dropped himself down into a chair. He looked up at the doctor, completely st
iff and on edge.

  “How bad is it?” he asked.

  Dr. Luu observed Jason carefully for a moment, hands clasped on the desk in front of him.

  “Honestly Jason, it’s not that bad.”

  Jason exhaled a breath that he had been holding since the doctor had called the night before. He relaxed back into the chair and risked a smile.

  “Really.” A statement instead of a question.

  “The brain scan data was fairly normal except for a few blips.”

  “A few blips?” Jason asked, the now reinvigorated worry scratching at his throat.

  “Nothing to be too concerned about, Jason. There was some talking, and you did sleepwalk.”

  Jason’s face flushed with embarrassment. The thought of that creepy male nurse watching him talking and walking around all night sat uncomfortably in his chest.

  “This is good, Jason,” Dr. Luu said, noticing the discomfort on Jason’s face. “Because now we have some good data from when you were having an occurrence.”

  Just call it what it is, doc, a fucking weirdo episode, Jason thought.

  “Ok? So you haven’t actually figured out why this is happening? Why am I here, doc?” Jason couldn’t help the strained, annoyed tone of his voice. “Shouldn’t you be working on it right now?” His face turned into a mean scowl.

  Dr. Luu continued, unphased by Jason’s change in demeanor.

  “Please relax, Jason. I understand your frustration. Please understand we are working on the data, even at this very moment.”

  Jason did relax and felt that touch of flushed embarrassment again.

  “Sorry, doc.”

  “It’s ok; it happens all the time,” Dr. Luu replied lightheartedly. “You’re here because we need more data. I want to send you home with a portable monitor that you can wear when you sleep tonight. That should give us enough information to figure out what’s going on and what we can do about it. How does that sound?”