He Always Knew
type: Post
type: BlogPost
modified: 2022-03-10T19:52:20Z
created: 2018-08-28T17:55:46Z
link: https://boomersclub.com.au/2018/08/28/he-always-knew/
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encoded: He woke with a start, not knowing what had disturbed his sleep. Closing his eyes to the darkness, he rearranged his pillow and his legs. Something was wrong. He couldn’t hear the refrigerator gurgling and rattling in the kitchen. He raised his head to hear better but still no gurgling and rattling. He waited for it to start again. It didn’t. He decided it must have finally died. After all, it was at least eighteen years old. He would have to find the money to buy a new one but he would worry about that tomorrow. He lay there for a while before he realized he couldn’t hear the soft hum of the air conditioner. He listened for other sounds. He heard nothing. Nothing but silence. He wondered if he had suddenly gone deaf; if something had gone wrong in his head while he slept. Perhaps something had crawled into his ears, blocking out all sound. His heart beat faster at the idea and he thought he heard it thumping in his chest. He wasn’t deaf after all. To make sure, he spoke his own name, “Bert Fitzsimmons.” He added, “You are not deaf. He sat up to check the time on his electric bed side clock. The screen was dark without even a flashing light. “That’s it”, he thought, “The powers off.” He hoped he would be able to make toast for breakfast. He became aware of other sounds. A distant motor vehicle, a dog barking. Other sounds were closer, inside the house. The sound of rubber soled shoes on the kitchen linoleum, soft but unmistakable. Then came the barely audible sound of footfall on the carpeted hallway. They had come for him at last just as he always believed they would. He had changed his name, his face and his story and moved here twenty years ago and told himself they would never find him. He had never really believed that story. He always knew they would come for him. He could slip out the window and make a run for it but he was older now. There would be two of them and they would outrun him. Bert called out. “You don’t have to get violent. I will confess to the po…
content: He woke with a start, not knowing what had disturbed his sleep. Closing his eyes to the darkness, he rearranged his pillow and his legs. Something was wrong. He couldn’t hear the refrigerator gurgling and rattling in the kitchen. He raised his head to hear better but still no gurgling and rattling. He waited for it to start again. It didn’t. He decided it must have finally died. After all, it was at least eighteen years old. He would have to find the money to buy a new one but he would worry about that tomorrow. He lay there for a while before he realized he couldn’t hear the soft hum of the air conditioner. He listened for other sounds. He heard nothing. Nothing but silence. He wondered if he had suddenly gone deaf; if something had gone wrong in his head while he slept. Perhaps something had crawled into his ears, blocking out all sound. His heart beat faster at the idea and he thought he heard it thumping in his chest. He wasn’t deaf after all. To make sure, he spoke his own name, “Bert Fitzsimmons.” He added, “You are not deaf. He sat up to check the time on his electric bed side clock. The screen was dark without even a flashing light. “That’s it”, he thought, “The powers off.” He hoped he would be able to make toast for breakfast. He became aware of other sounds. A distant motor vehicle, a dog barking. Other sounds were closer, inside the house. The sound of rubber soled shoes on the kitchen linoleum, soft but unmistakable. Then came the barely audible sound of footfall on the carpeted hallway. They had come for him at last just as he always believed they would. He had changed his name, his face and his story and moved here twenty years ago and told himself they would never find him. He had never really believed that story. He always knew they would come for him. He could slip out the window and make a run for it but he was older now. There would be two of them and they would outrun him. Bert called out. “You don’t have to get violent. I will confess to the po…
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