HUM

by Dan Hawley

  Jason sat quietly for a moment.

  “Well, I was hoping you had some answers today, and that’s why you called, but I guess I’m happy that you believe there isn’t anything serious going on. No tumors; no insanity.”

  “No, none of that, Jason. Physically, everything appears normal; I just need more data. And having the monitor on when you’re in your natural…environment should provide all the information I need to help you.”

  “Sounds good, doc.”

  “Good, then here’s the monitor. The instructions are in the box too. It’s simple, but if you have any problems, call the number on the sheet, and someone will be able to assist.”

  Dr. Luu stood up and handed the small white box to Jason, who also got up.

  “Thanks again, doc.” Jason turned and left the office, disappointed but hopeful.

  Dr. Luu sat back down in his office chair. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his thumb and forefinger. He clicked his mouse, and the monitor came to life, flooding his face with light. On the screen, two videos were paused—a man and a little boy standing against a wall, the same wall, listening to each other.

  CHAPTER 27

  Jason parked the SUV and ascended in the elevator until it reached his floor. Inside the apartment, Samantha was hunched over her phone, sitting on the couch. Her dark hair was in a long braid that flowed down her white bathrobe. Jason kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his jacket, and walked into the living room with the white box in his hand. Samantha looked up at him and then down at the box.

  “How did it go?” she asked as she put her phone down on the coffee table and straightened up.

  “They need more data, I guess.”

  Jason sat down on the couch beside Samantha and placed the monitor on the coffee table in front of them.

  “I gotta wear this stupid thing tonight,” he said with a heavy sigh.

  “Well, at least they’re working on it. The doctor didn’t say anything else at all?”

  “He tried reassuring me that everything was pretty much normal, but I dunno if I fully believe him. He wasn’t telling me everything. I know that for sure.” “Well, he probably doesn’t want to say anything until he has more information. I’m sure if he said things looked normal, then that’s a good thing, Jay.” “I guess,” Jason said. “Not much I can do but wear the stupid monitor anyway.”

  The room was quickly darkening as the sun set behind the earth. Jason got up and turned on a few lights to inspect the contents of the white box.

  Samantha stood up, gathered her fuzzy robe around herself, and headed to the kitchen to fix dinner. She was craving comfort food; some good ol’ home cookin’.

  She popped open the fridge and frowned. They were going to need groceries soon, but there was enough here for dinner. She pulled out two fat chicken breasts and a bag of carrots and set them on the island. She opened a door under the island and grabbed two handfuls of mini potatoes. Meat and potatoes might just be the best comfort food there is, she thought.

  The kitchen soon came alive with the sounds of washing and cutting and frying and boiling. Samantha moved gracefully between tasks, a blur of white cotton as she chopped the carrots and checked on the meat.

  The complex smell of rosemary mixed with garlic hit Jason’s nostrils like a truck, setting his mouth to water. He inhaled deeply in his seat at the island.

  “Gooooddamn, that smells good,” he said with a smile, his dimples popping from under his beard. Samantha looked up from her carrots and smiled back; the earlier tension of the day seemed to have floated away on the scent of seared chicken and herbs.

  Jason found himself grateful she wasn’t cooking steak but couldn’t find the reason why.

  He smiled again. “We should go for a walk tonight; looks like it’s going to be a nice one.”

  “Yeah?” Sam replied and looked out the window. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and fierce color marked the clear, early evening sky. “Sounds like a plan,” she said as her eyes went back to her work.

  “Sure you don’t need a hand?”

  “Too many cooks in the kitchen, Jay.”

  * * *

  After dinner and after Jason had finished the dishes, the couple put on their shoes and jackets and left the apartment. With a few dings of the elevator, they were in the lobby. Chester was sitting behind the concierge desk with his nose buried deep in a book. “Evening, Chester,” Jason said with a hidden smile.

  “Good evening, you two. How are you tonight?” “Not too bad,” Jason said as he and Samantha slowed their pace. “You’re the concierge tonight?”

  “Good help is hard to find,” Chester replied with a lighthearted sigh. “The new guy was a no-show, so I gotta pick up the slack.”

  Chester’s eyes squinted from his masked smile and he added, “I don’t mind, though. It lets me catch up on my reading.”

  Chester pointed at his book.

  Jason chuckled and Samantha smiled as they continued to the lobby door.

  “Fair enough, sir,” Jason said. “We’ll see you later.” Chester nodded and went back to his book as the couple left the lobby and stepped onto the sidewalk.

  The night was cool, but not offensively so. The air blowing in from the harbor filled their lungs with fragrant ocean mist and the smell of salt and fish. They walked down towards the seawall, close to where the collision with the cyclist had occurred. Jason rubbed his shoulder at the thought.

  Other people were also walking along the seawall, enjoying the calm night. Mostly other couples, holding hands as they quietly strolled beside the ocean. The dark water lapped lazily against the manmade shore. There were no waves, no surf, but the water still moved against the rocks and around the barnacle-covered wooden piers and white, fiberglass boats as if it were alive.

  It was alive after all, wasn’t it? The ocean teemed with life: a vast ecosystem of flora and fauna, so diverse and different yet depending on each other for survival. The ocean itself took on the properties of a living being, didn’t it? Breathing its tides in and out as it was pushed and pulled by the moon. The ocean was called a body of water for a reason.

  “I want to go home.”

  The words brought Jason out of his lull. The way the pure white boats floated on the black water was hypnotizing. The occasional gull cried out as it made its way to its evening resting place. Heat flared in Jason’s guts.

  “We already went over this,” he said dismissively. Sam stopped and leaned against the railing, looking out into the harbor. Jason slowed, and then turned and joined in beside her.

  “We…” he began.

  “I don’t mean today,” she interrupted, “it doesn’t have to be today. But I want to go home, Jason.”

  She used his full name, which meant she was as serious as the cold, hard look in her eyes. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to fight this one. And why would he? he thought. Did he really like it out here anyway? What was so great about Seattle? His brain went over some scenarios where the pandemic never happened. Would have been happy then? The fire in his belly cooled, and his shoulders relaxed.

  “The pandemic can’t last forever, babe,” he said, looking out to the water. “And we need to get the results of this sleep test; maybe this doctor can help. Maybe he can figure out what’s wrong and fix it, or help me fix it. You have to give me that much.”

  His voice had turned indignant and demanding, the liquid fire boiling up again inside. “And we can get a new place, somewhere bigger, without that fucking hum.”

  There was a finality in his voice that Samantha didn’t like. Her brow furrowed, and her expression only hardened.

  “Obviously, I want you to get better, Jay. But I need to take care of my health too,” she said.

  Jason flashed a look over at Samantha’s stern face. Guilt raced up his spine and rested heavily in his mind. He realized he hadn’t even asked her how she was. How her appointment had gone. He had been too wrapped up in his own shit; too worried about the sleep disturban
ces and the hum

  (Francine probably did need cleaning, though)

  to consider Sam’s feelings. But why not? She looked fine, really. And they could always make another baby.

  But damnit, he was going crazy over here! Literally out of his goddamn gourd! Maybe she was the selfish one, after all, demanding to go home right in the middle of him working on getting better. Maybe—

  Jason’s thoughts were interrupted as Samantha turned and began walking again, towards the little market a few blocks away.

  “I’m not saying we need to leave today or tomorrow. We will see what the doctor says and go from there.”

  The couple walked to the market in silence. Once inside, Samantha and Jason grabbed a few essentials from the shelves: meat and cheese, eggs, and milk. They paid at the register, grabbed their bags, and headed out the door, sanitizing their hands along the way.

  Samantha and Jason turned up the street with fists full of bags and headed for their apartment. Only a few words had passed between them since their talk, and they were both eager to get inside and go to bed early, putting another dreadful day in the past.

  Jason opened the large lobby door for Samantha, and they entered the building. Their shoes clicked against the lobby floor as they passed Chester’s office. The light was on and the door open. The couple looked in as they passed to see Chester sitting at his desk, completely engulfed in his book. Jason pushed the round up-arrow button on the wall, and it lit up. He took a step back and looked up to the small LED screen above the elevators. One was coming down from PH, and the other was coming up from P2. Samantha and Jason shuffled themselves in front of the elevator from parking level two, since it would be there first. With a ding, the doors opened. Jason dropped his bags, and the meat and milk smacked the hard floor with a clap inside ruffled plastic. Samantha jumped at the sound and turned to look at Jason. His eyes were wide and transfixed on the open elevator.

  “Jay?” She looked from Jason to the elevator and back. “Jason, what’s wrong?”

  “Do you see?” he asked meekly.

  “See what?”

  “Do you see them?”

  Samantha looked into the elevator and back at Jason.

  “Jason, you’re scaring them; what’s wrong?”

  The elevator dinged. Samantha thrust her foot in front of the closing door, and it popped back open hesitantly.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said to the occupants. “Do you mind if we ride with you?”

  Jason blinked with realization. She does see them.

  “Jason,” Sam hissed. “Let’s go.”

  Jason quickly picked up the fallen bags and headed into the elevator to stand beside a very annoyed-looking middle-aged woman and a very strange-looking little boy.

  Another ding and the elevator door began to close. Samantha reached for the panel to press the button for their floor, paused halfway, and then let her arm drop. Jason, who was staring straight ahead, frozen, looked down at the panel and saw what Sam had seen. Their floor button was already lit. Jason’s eyes squinted as his mind raced. He couldn’t remember ever seeing anyone else from their floor, which was not uncommon in a large apartment building. Even more common now that people were staying home for the majority of their day. Jason could feel the little boy’s piercing eyes looking up at him, cold and unblinking.

  Jason watched the little boy in his peripherals. He was holding the hand of who Jason could only assume was his mother. Jason cleared his throat and stole a glance down at the boy. The kid gave Jason the creeps, no doubt about that. Jason’s eyes moved from the boy’s shined, tiny black shoes up the brown tweed pants that disappeared under his tiny light-brown trench coat.

  Jason couldn’t help but take in the sight of the boy. What child dressed like this? Maybe it was his mother who had put the outfit together. A thought flashed into Jason’s mind. Had she noticed him checking out the kid? Jason didn’t think so. If she had, she’d think Jason was some sicko looking to get pervy, and she would grab her child close to protect him.

  Jason continued his inspection as the child continued to stare. Finally, past the boy’s thin, colorless lips and white porcelain cheeks, Jason’s tired eyes met a familiar sight.

  The boy’s eyes revealed the exhaustion that his hard face attempted to conceal. The dark skin around his eyes was in stark contrast to his white cheeks. It almost looked as if the child was wearing makeup to black out the bags under his tired eyes. Jason and the boy stood in hidden conversation with their eyes locked until the mother finally noticed and pulled her son close, an arm around his chest.

  Jason looked back at the elevator door. The bell sounded as they slowed to a stop. The door opened, and Samantha and Jason exited and headed to their apartment. The mother and son followed, not far behind.

  Samantha pulled out her keys and slid one in the lock. With a click and a turn of the knob, the apartment door opened. Samantha entered and Jason followed, but he stopped in the doorway and looked back. The boy was still staring at Jason, peering out from behind his mother’s legs. The woman released her lock and opened their door.

  “Guh…Goodnight.” Jason’s sudden and awkward voice startled the woman. She regained composure quickly and nodded back. She pushed the boy firmly into her apartment and disappeared behind him, shutting the door and locking it with a click.

  Inside the apartment, Samantha kicked off her shoes and put her bags down on the kitchen floor. She grabbed the antiseptic wipes and began wiping down their groceries. Jason stood staring at the door for a moment, then finally kicked off his shoes too. He joined Samantha in the kitchen and set his bags down beside hers.

  “Good thing the eggs were in my bags,” she jabbed as she continued sanitizing the groceries. Jason joined in, still in a half daze, thinking everything over.

  “Well? What the hell was that down there?” Samantha asked, tired of waiting for Jason to speak. Jason continued putting away sterile packages, but Sam had stopped wiping things. She was leaning against the stove, her arms crossed in front of her.

  “It’s crazy,” he finally said.

  “Try me,” Sam replied.

  “I’ve seen them before.”

  “Duh, Jay, they’re our neighbors.”

  “No, not here.” He paused.

  Samantha’s thin patience was palpable.

  “Where, Jason?”

  “At the clinic.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Samantha brewed some chamomile tea and set down a mug for each of them on the coffee table. She sat down beside Jason, who was staring past the dark television, out the window, and into the night sky. “This is a good thing,” Samantha finally said.

  Jason turned to look at her, then grabbed his steaming mug and brought it to his lips. He tried a sip, but the hot liquid burned his lips, so he put the drink back down.

  “It’s creepy as hell; that’s what it is.”

  Jason looked back out the window sullenly.

  “What are the chances?”

  “Uh, I’d say pretty good, Jay. Considering you both are having sleeping problems, and you both live on the same floor in the same building.” Samantha paused. “Jason, we share walls with those people.” Samantha quickly quieted at this thought, remembering the times she found Jason pressed up against the wall, listening—a wall they shared with the strange little boy and his mother.

  “Maybe the sound in the walls is messing with that little boy too, Jay.”

  Jason continued to stare.

  “We should go ask them if they hear it. If it bothers them too.”

  Jason looked over at Sam with malice in his eyes.

  “Are you dumb?”

  Samantha recoiled.

  “I’m not going over there asking about some sound in the walls, Sam. Of course they hear it; it’s loud as shit and never shuts. The fuck. UP!”

  Jason leapt up and headed to one of the walls they shared with the apartment next door. He could feel the hum behind the paint and drywall. He pressed his finge
rtips against the flat surface and closed his eyes.

  The vibration danced along his fingers, up his arms, and into his head. His jaw clenched and he ground his teeth. His face flushed and a single bead of sweat formed on his temple before dropping down the side of his face, leaving a salty trail.

  Samantha watched him from the couch, then finally got up and went to Jason, putting her hand on his back.

  “Jason,” she said calmly, “It’s a good thing because it means there is something wrong with this place, not with you.”

  Jason shrugged her hand away and turned around. “If you want to leave so damn bad, just go.” His words were thick acid escaping from his mouth. Samantha stared into Jason’s eyes with her mouth open in stunned surprise. He stared back coldly, his eyes an angry blue ocean.

  “Well?” he asked, unfazed by her hurt expression. “You’ve hated it since we got here. You haven’t even given it a chance!” Jason’s voice picked up volume. Samantha could only stare, barely recognizing the man in front of her.

  “Wha—” Samantha began.

  “Wha, wha, wha,” Jason interjected. “Wha, wha, whining bitch! That’s all you do. Fucking whine about everything instead of getting up and doing something. Your stupid puzzles and dumbass knitting. The fuck.”

  Jason’s voice became harsher and harsher, his breathing labored. His eyes were wide and accusatory. Samantha’s face flushed and her eyes welled over.

  “What the fuck Jason!?” she screamed.

  Jason flinched in surprise. Samantha very rarely swore or raised her voice, but her rage only spurred Jason on.

  He continued, “I have this great opportunity out here. I could be running this goddamn company one day! You don’t give a shit about that. Like you want me to fail? You want me to be a big fuck-up failure. That’s it, huh?”

  “How dare you!” Samantha shot back. “I haven’t been there for you? Everything is about you, Jason! It’s always about your job, your opportunity, your office,” she continued, her voice ramping up. “It’s your fucked-up sleeping shit, Jason. That’s the reason everything is so fucked! I’ve been here, supporting you, trying to help. But you’re fucking losing it, Jay!” “Well! Sorry I have bullshit sleeping problems, Sam. It’s not like I asked for it! I didn’t ask God one day to fuck my sleep all up so I’d go fucking crazy! Jesus Christ, Sam. You’re so selfish!”