HUM

by Dan Hawley

  “A hum?” Chester asked.

  “Yes. A hum coming from the walls?” Jason more asked than stated. “It sounds crazy, but when I put my ear up to the wall, I can hear it sort of… buzzing.” Jason’s statement left his face looking confused, as if he was questioning his own words.

  Chester’s lips formed a tiny, playful smile under his beard.

  “You were listening to the walls?” he asked in a lightly mocking tone.

  “I mean,” Jason stammered. “I was lying in bed, and I heard this buzzing sound—I thought it was the fridge, so I got up because it was so loud, but then I realized it wasn’t the fridge. It was in the wall.”

  A moment passed, and the two men held each other’s gaze. The smile on Chester’s face faded, and his expression grew serious. The sudden change in the room’s atmosphere made Jason shift uncomfortably in his chair.

  “Do you mind if I come up and have a listen?” Chester asked.

  “Of course,” Jason said, thankful to move.

  The elevator was silent as the two men rode up to the apartment. The gentle dings of each floor passing were like a metronome, timing their ascent. The elevator dinged one last time and stopped.

  “I should have texted Sam to make sure she isn’t up here naked,” Jason stated awkwardly and instantly regretted it. Chester didn’t seem to be in a joking mood. As Jason opened the door to the apartment, he called, “Hey babe? Chester is here. Are you decent?”

  “Good morning, Chester.”

  Samantha was sitting on the couch wearing black tights and a white t-shirt. She put down her phone on the coffee table and stood up.

  “Is Jason bothering you?” she asked.

  “Of course not, dear.” Chester smiled warmly. “I am happy to be of service.”

  Jason waited a moment for Chester to remove his shoes and head towards the bedroom. Chester paused and stood in the doorway of the bedroom. After a moment, he pressed his ear against the wall and listened.

  “Hmmm.”

  “Do you hear it?” Jason asked quickly.

  “One of the building’s mechanical rooms is below your apartment. It’s quite loud inside that room, but I didn’t think you could hear it outside,” Chester replied.

  “Oh. Well, what about the people that just moved out? Did they ever complain about the noise?” Jason asked as he scratched his stubble.

  Chester looked thoughtful.

  “Not that I remember, no. I guess I didn’t talk to them much at all, actually. But there was…” Chester trailed off.

  “Was what?” Samantha asked.

  “Well,” Chester started. “There were noise complaints against them fairly regularly near the end. I had to come up here a few times to ask them to keep it down. The police even came once or twice.”

  “Big partiers, huh?” Jason mused.

  “Fighting,” Chester said somberly. “When they moved in, they seemed like a nice couple. I believe she was a nurse, and he was some fancy chef at one of the hotels downtown here. But the screaming! Near the end, I thought they were going to kill each other!”

  Chester noticed the shocked look on Samantha’s face. He attempted to provide some levity by following up with, “But they didn’t, of course. They asked if they could break their lease early, and we obliged. I doubt they would have spoken since they moved out. They really seemed to hate each other.” Shrugging, Chester continued, “I will go down and have a look; make sure everything is in order in the electrical room. I could call in an electrician to make sure everything is up to code and see if they can do anything about the noise. Best I can do for now.” Chester smiled and turned towards the door.

  He put on his shoes, opened the door, paused, and looked back at the couple.

  “You two aren’t like them at all. You look so in love. I can tell these things, you know.” He smiled again and closed the door behind him, leaving Samantha and Jason staring blankly at each other.

  Thump!

  “What the hell was that!?” Samantha exclaimed after a loud noise from the window made them both jump.

  “I dunno. Maybe a bird or something hit the window,” a somewhat stunned Jason replied.

  They hurried over to the large living room window to find nothing but a smudge.

  “Poor bastard. I bet that hurt.”

  Samantha looked away with a sad look on her face. “Remind me never to clean the windows.” She sniffed.

  Moving to the couch, she looked up at Jason and said, “More and more people are dying in China every day now from that virus. It looks pretty bad on the news.” She sounded concerned. Jason sat down next to her on the couch and put his arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, well, they can keep it. Damn wet markets. They must know that shit is no good!” he said with anger and a touch of fear in his voice.

  Jason scooped the remote from the coffee table in front of him and pressed the power button. The screen lit up, and the 24-hour news station appeared. They were playing an endless video loop of Chinese people being torn from their homes by men in riot gear and gas masks, makeshift hospitals, giant trucks spraying God-knows-what in the streets, and mass graves. It was a grim sight. The Chinese had the city of millions of people on lockdown, and the borders of the province were closed. Still, experts and reporters discussed the potential for this new coronavirus strain to spread to other areas.

  “We’re ok, babe,” Jason said reassuringly. “Most of the experts are saying that China has it contained, and even if it does get out, it’s really just another kind of flu. It kills a lot of older people, I guess, but most people can fight it off.”

  Samantha nodded.

  “So you’re screwed, is what you’re saying?” she joked as she grabbed the remote and turned off the tv.

  “Oh, come on!” Jason complained. “I’m not that much older than you.”

  Samantha grinned and leaned over to whisper in his ear, “Old enough to be my daddy…”

  “Oh shit!” Jason exclaimed as they both laughed. “Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  “So, what would you like to do today, cutie?” Jason asked, grateful for the levity.

  Samantha’s eyes grew wide. “Explore the city!” she demanded.

  And so they did.

  CHAPTER 3

  The busy streets were loud as the couple made their way outside.

  “Everyone and their mother out today,” Jason complained.

  The dull roar of conversations mixed with the growling of engines created an unsettling ambiance.

  “It’s kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Sam said with bright eyes and a wide smile as she grabbed Jason’s hand. Jason smiled back. “It’s cool, yeah. Lots going on.”

  He sped up to keep pace with his lover.

  “At least it’s not freezing. Where is this market you went to?” he asked.

  “Just up here!” Sam exclaimed, skipping towards her destination. “It’s pretty cool!”

  The Urban Market was a repurposed old shoe factory needed no longer in the age of globalization and sweatshops. It still smelled faintly of tanning chemicals and leather. The space was perfect for a small market. The industrial feel of concrete and brick combined with the high ceiling contrasted sharply against the vendors’ colorful stands. The market comprised of perhaps a dozen vendors selling all the necessities. Samantha and Jason looked over the fruit and vegetable stands and walked past the baker. A friendly couple was sitting behind a table selling honey made from beehives located on top of a downtown building. A popular Sunday destination, people milled about in organized chaos.

  “Let’s just get some stuff for dinner now and go to the supermarket tomorrow after you get home from work?” Samantha asked.

  “Yeah, that sounds good,” Jason replied. “Maybe we can grab a bite too, while we’re out.”

  The couple bought some fresh bread, vegetables, a few apples, and some cheese, and then made their way over to the fish vendor. While standing in line, Jason filled his lungs with the briny air.
>
  “The fish here are way different than back home, huh?” he remarked.

  Bubbling tanks full of live fish and shellfish formed a cascading glass wall. Jason saw lobster, Dungeness Crab, oysters, clams, and scallops. There were snappers, trout, and salmon—so many options.

  Samantha leaned in to look at the snappers. Their black eyes set in their pink heads stared back blankly. Their little mouths were sucking and blowing water to filter air through their gills. Suddenly, a gloved hand thrust into the tank and grabbed the snapper Sam was watching. The helpless fish, expelled from the water and into the drowning air, was laid flat on a white cutting board.

  WHACK, WHACK, WHACK!

  Sam jumped back with alarm as the gloved hand beat the life out of the defenseless snapper with a club.

  “Jesus!” she squeaked and averted her eyes.

  “I was not expecting that,” Jason said, his eyes wide. He shook it off and put his arm around Sam. “It doesn’t get much fresher than that!” he joked with a goofy smile.

  Samantha was not impressed.

  “Awe, come on, babe. You know that for us to live, something has to die.”

  “I know,” Sam whimpered. “But I don’t feel bad for turnips.”

  Jason collected the now dead and wrapped snapper from the vendor, paid, and turned to go.

  “I’ll probably be a vegetarian soon,” Sam remarked. “You already don’t eat beef or pork, isn’t that good enough?” Jason responded.

  “I dunno, I just feel bad, and I don’t even like it really, so why eat it?”

  “Yeah, I get it if you don’t like it,” Jason said as they continued walking through the market.

  “These days you can get away with not eating meat, since there are so many options. You have access to all kinds of different foods now that we didn’t a hundred years ago. You can even supplement with powders and pills. But if all that stopped, you’d be eating my venison,” Jason quipped with a wink and a dimple.

  “Ugh, I’m not eating Bambi, Jay! Stop trying!” “Whatever, babe, I’m just saying, you gotta know how to survive if you need to, and if you had to, you’d eat Bambi.”

  Every autumn since Jason was six, he would spend two weeks deer hunting with his dad, grandpa, and a few others at a camp in northern Pennsylvania. The first time Jason shot a deer, he hit it right through the lungs—the perfect shot. The deer couldn’t run for long, and the bullet didn’t damage any meat.

  “Great shot!” his Grandpa John declared as they both jumped up to give chase.

  It wasn’t long before they came upon the doe lying on the ground, struggling for breath. Its eyes were wide with terror as it looked up at Jason. Jason’s eyes traveled down its neck to find the steaming hole where the 30/30 had entered its fragile hide. His 14-year-old brain was trying to comprehend what was happening; what he had just done.

  Jason’s grandfather could see the pained expression on his grandson’s face. He put his rifle down and knelt beside Jason and the dying deer. “For us to live, Jason, something must die.”

  The doe gurgled and strained her final breath, then struggled no more. A few tears ran from Jason’s eyes. John took Jason gently by the arm so that the emotional boy was facing his grandfather.

  “Son, I understand why you feel this way. Hell, I was the same way when I took my first deer. But you do understand, Jason, this deer has provided us with food now. So there is purpose. There is a reason. Never kill without reason, Jason, you understand?” Jason’s eyes dried as he nodded towards his grandpa.

  “Good,” John said as he released his grandson. “We will thank the deer for giving its life so that we can live longer. Its life, and death, had purpose.”

  With that, John plunged his hunting knife into the belly of the deer, and with surgical precision, relieved it of its guts.

  * * *

  “Maybe next weekend we can check out the mountains,” Sam mused as she dropped the seasoned snapper into the smoking hot frying pan. The oil erupted, spitting and hissing like a snake. “Sounds good; we can put those winter tires to better use.” Jason thought for a moment.

  “We could go skiing if you want,” he added.

  Jason sat at the island, watching as Samantha expertly moved around the kitchen. With the grace of a dancer, she rolled the fish in the pan, grabbed the boiling pot of vegetables, and spun around to strain them in the sink. Salt and pepper sprinkled from her fingers onto the food in a cloud of flavor. Butter and herbs went into the pan with a splash of lemon and white wine, finishing the fish.

  On to the plate it went.

  With a flurry of motion, the vegetables and baked potato joined it.

  Sam slid the plate under Jason’s eager nose. The smell wafted up, and his mouth began to water. “You are amazing!” he exclaimed. “How did I get so lucky?”

  Sam poured them both a glass of chardonnay and took a seat beside him.

  * * *

  With their bellies full and their dishes clean, Sam and Jason headed for the couch. Jason clicked on the tv as his feet came to rest on the wooden coffee table.

  “Thousands more infected and many more dead as the coronavirus grips China. Weeks ago, the Chinese government had shut down the borders of the affected province. Still, the virus has escaped, and tonight, we are reporting the first confirmed case of COVID-19 here in the U.S.,” the reporter said.

  Sam looked at Jason with concern in her eyes.

  “That’s not good,” he said, but then noticed her concern.

  “We are young and healthy, babe. If we get it, it’ll be ok.”

  “Everyone online is scared,” Sam said. “They think it’s the next plague. Going to wipe out millions.” Jason moved to put his arm around her.

  “It’s not the plague, Sam. It’s a bad flu that kills people who are old and have underlying health conditions. Besides, we have no idea what is actually happening in China; their government doesn’t have a great track record of telling the whole truth.”

  Sam nodded slowly as her eyes remained fixed on the tv screen. Jason continued, “All we can do is stay healthy and remain positive. And if worse comes to worst, I always have Francine.”

  “You brought your shotgun!?” Samantha exclaimed in anger and disbelief. She shrugged off his arm and twisted to face him directly.

  “You said you weren’t going to bring any of your guns to the city. What the hell, Jay!?”

  “Easy, babe,” Jason replied in a hushed tone. “It was a last-minute decision. I just figured with everything going on with this virus and moving across the country to a new place where we know no one…we might want some protection.”

  “Protection,” Samantha repeated as she rolled her dark eyes with contempt.

  “Yes, protection! Listen, if this virus goes crazy and the zombie apocalypse happens, you’ll be so grateful that I brought it.”

  “Where is it even?” Sam asked.

  “I’ve got it locked in the office closet. Safe and sound. Nothing to worry about, babe, it’s just in case. Alright?”

  Sam huffed and got up.

  “Don’t say alright as if I have any say in the matter.” She turned to walk away.

  “Where are you going?” Jason asked.

  “To shower.”

  “Well, can I come?”

  “Why don’t you go shower with Francine?”

  * * *

  Samantha opened her eyes. She lay still for a moment, then reached over to touch her phone’s screen. 2:36 a.m. She rolled over onto her back and recoiled swiftly. Beside her in bed was Jason, sitting up, completely still.

  “Jay?” she whispered. “Are you up?”

  Jason sat motionless, staring straight ahead. Sam put her hand on his back.

  “Jason?”

  This wasn’t the first time she had experienced Jason’s odd sleep behavior. He sometimes talked in his sleep, and occasionally it would turn quite angry. Samantha even caught an elbow once when Jason was seemingly fending off an imaginary attack. Usually, though,
he would mumble on for a bit and then stop. A jerky elbow or knee was rare. Even rarer, maybe twice before, Samantha awoke to find her partner sitting up in bed—just sitting there. She had tried to talk to him, but he never answered, and after a few minutes, he would lie back down, and that would be it. The next morning, when asked, he would say he didn’t remember it.

  Samantha withdrew her hand from Jason’s back and waited and watched for him to lie back down like he had those other times. She lay there on her back, observing her lover. His breath was like a metronome, slowly keeping time in the night air, his features bathed in the moonlight. His frame rose and fell with his breath.

  Up and down. In and out. Constantly.

  Samantha was almost hypnotized by the movement. Her eyes grew heavy, and sleep knocked at her door.

  Then Jason’s head turned quickly, and Sam could see his eyes opened wide. A look of terror was across his face. “Do you hear!?” he snarled. His breath had turned to panting, his eyes piercing hers.

  “What!?” Sam yelped as she tried to escape through the mattress.

  “What are you…” Samantha started, but then the expression on Jason’s face relaxed and softened. He withdrew, lay down, and rolled over on his side, facing away from his startled lover. His breath became a metronome again; peaceful and constant. Shaken and rattled, Sam could do nothing but stare at his back until sleep finally consumed her.

  * * *

  Samantha awoke to sunlight and mint as Jason kissed her lips. The memory of last night flooded back into her mind as she pushed him away abruptly.

  “What’s wrong?” Jason asked, feigning hurt.

  “Are you mad I have to leave you for work?” Samantha sat up in bed, rubbed her eyes, and yawned.

  “You don’t remember?” she asked.

  “Remember what?” he searched her eyes. “Ah, was I talking in my sleep again? Must be the stress. What was I blabbering on about this time?”