or: If a Passionfruit Falls in Suburbia…

This is the first time I’ve stayed, by myself, in a house in an incredibly long time.

I last lived in a house with a yard in 2007. This was my first year in HK and I was never truly alone there, since there was always my dog too. There was also the cat but he doesn’t count. Not for the obvious reason that he and I never saw eye to eye (only because he would have scratched mine out if I brought him that close to my face) but because, if something bad was to happen in the house, he’d look after himself first and forget about me. My dog on the other hand, well, she was awesome.

This is not about the dog. Or the cat.

It is kind of about not having either. But not really.

I digress…

Here I am by myself in a two storey house with a yard and garage, in suburbia. If the Inner West of Sydney can be called suburbia. I’m not sure anymore since these ideas have shifted a bit since I lived around here.

There are no pets.

Houses make all sorts of noises in the evenings and once I’m familiar with them, it’s all good. It usually takes me two nights and then my sleeping is back to normal.

This house comes with some other sounds. Some unexpected sounds.

Dreaming away my night, I woke to hear a thud. It was still dark as my eyes flicked open and my heart rate accelerated as though I was trying to outrun a cheetah. For all I knew at that point, that could have been my next challenge.

Fight or flight is impressive.

My sleep fog cleared and I lay there, heart noisily thudding, slowing down a little yet no longer going to break out of my rib cage. I was hyper-alert. I heard roughly a billion other sounds in the dead quiet of night. None sounded like someone trying to break in. Not that I know how that would sound but I imagine it would be different to what I was hearing.

My ears strained, endeavouring to pick up the sound of someone breaking a lock, creeping on the floorboards, tripping on the stairs (it is impossible to walk up these stairs in the dark if you haven’t done it in daylight). My eyes adjusted. My room became shades of greys and blacks. No torchlight beams flashing around, weird shadows cast. Shadows remained still.

I knew not to go downstairs if someone was breaking in. I’ve seen that movie multiple times and read various iterations of that book too.

The goosebumps on my arms subsided as the hairs on the back of my neck lay flat once more. Heart rate almost back to resting.

Thud.

I sat up.

Goosebumps, neck hair and heart rate all up again. Adrenaline pumped.

I remained motionless. Like a vampire waking. Only I wasn’t hungry. I was on edge.

No additional noises.

I sat like this for hours.

It felt like hours.

No new noises.

I lay down again, weary.

I figured it was better to conserve my energy in case I was attacked. I wasn’t going to be much use half asleep. Though it would be better to have at least one eye open. Just in case.

It is a lot of work on the body to have goosebumps, neck hair and heart rate go up twice in quick succession.

I slept.

Streams of happiness through the blinds woke me fairly early. Combined wth some lorikeets and cockatoos searching for food, it was unlikely I would be able to get back to sleep now. I was a little dazed after a sub-optimum sleep.  Coffee would be required in the not too distant future. First, I needed to check what happened last night and to see if anything was stolen.

I went downstairs and looked around. Nothing appeared to be missing.

I went outside.

I looked around, gates still locked, nothing had been moved in the yard.

On the ground lay two large, fresh passionfruit.

The kookaburras laughed.

* Thanks to Van Halen for the title to this post. For the film clip and some great 80s hair and fashion, click here. Apparently there is a documentary being made about them at the moment. Would be interesting! They’ll have a lot of material since the band has been around since 1972.