Trouble in the Night by Kevin Draper

“Mom, I’m home.”

“Don’t forget to wipe your feet. Where did you get all that junk?”

“Ah, Mom, this isn’t junk. Look, the guy in the grocery store gave me an electric eye. That’s the thing that rings a bell when someone walks in the door. It doesn’t work anymore so he gave it to me. Here is a bag of aircraft relays from the war surplus store. This is a power supply out of an old TV set, and, look here, I got a book of ham radio schematics. This is fun stuff.”

“Well, take it up to your room, and, and do your homework.”

I climbed the stairs to my bedroom in the attic and the experiments began. Cool, when I touch the grid wire on the electric eye the relay clicks. Rewind the TV transformer for 24 volts. This old radio chassis is just right for the power supply and the relays. Hang a fluorescent light fixture on the ceiling and string the wires into the closet where the electronics are hidden. Wire a thumbtack and stick it in the wall. Put the microphone on the floor next to the door. There, that should do it. The nice thing about living in the attic is that you don’t have to worry about spoiling the décor.

Touch the thumbtack on the wall and the lights go on. Touch it again and they go off. “Lights ON!” I commanded. The lights went on. “Lights OFF!” The lights went off. Everything works. This is going to be so much fun. When I enter the room at night all I have to do is touch the thumbtack on the wall and the lights will go on. Get undressed, crawl into bed, fluff the pillow, clap my hands, and the lights will go off. No more turning off the light switch and then feeling my way across the dark room looking for the bed. Just crawl into bed and the lights will respond to my command.

That is exactly what I did on the night of the storm. I touched the thumbtack. The lights came on. I got undressed, crawled into bed, clapped my hands, and the lights went out.

Good night.

As sugar plumb fairies danced through my dreams the storm clouds gathered outside. Downstairs my parents settled down to watch the ten o’clock news. There was a flash of lightning, a crash of thunder, and my lights came on. Dad could see in the room leading upstairs that the lights were on in the attic. He got up from his chair and walked to the base of the stairs and yelled: “It’s after your bedtime. Now turn off those lights and go to bed!” The lights went out. He returned to his chair. I slept through it all.

Somewhere during the weather report there was a flash of lightning, a crash of thunder, and my lights came on. Dad got up from his chair and walked once again to the base of the stairs. “I’m telling you for the last time turn off the lights and go to BED!” The lights went off and he returned to his chair.

The football scores were being announced when the lightning flashed and the thunder activated my lights once again. For the third time Dad had to get up from his show. He climbed the stairs cussing under his breath and when he reached the room he yelled: “For the last time go to bed and TURN OFF THE LIGHTS!”

I awoke from a deep sleep into a room bathed in bright light and the sound of someone screaming at me just as the lights went out. My mind groped helplessly for a clue as to what was going on.

He was so furious that he could hardly speak. He pushed his words out through clenched teeth: “Why did you turn off the light right when I was talking to you?”

I was in some kind of trouble and did not know why. In this tense situation the teachings of my moral upbringing came back to me and I answered his accusation with the simple truth. “You turned off the light.” I said.

“I did not turn off the light.” He spit back in a restrained rage.

“But Dad, You are standing next to the light switch. I am clear across the room here in bed.”

“Light switch? I don’t see any light switch.”

I climbed out of bed and walked across the room. “It is right here, Dad.” I curved my index finger and topped it with my thumb as though I were gripping the light switch and made an upward motion brushing the thumbtack on the wall. The lights came on. With a similar downward motion, again brushing the thumbtack, the lights went off.

His jaw slacked open as his eyes searched the wall. “I still don’t see any light switch.” He scratched his head as he started back down the stairs. “Just go to bed.” He commanded on his way down.

It was then that a flash of lightning cast my shadow on the wall. The roll of thunder clearly explained what had been going on. I reached into the closet and turned off my high tech light switch and returned to bed.

Other kids my age got away with murder. I could get into trouble in my sleep.


Kevin Draper 2010