Please note that NaNo does not leave time for editing, so this has had nothing more stringent than Libre Office's spell checker applied.
Small Feet
I start awake. A glance at the clock to my right shows it is two AM. I listen, trying to figure out what it was that startled me out of my sleep. My heart is racing as if someone has just injected me with a shot of adrenaline. All the noises seem natural, so it is not as if my pager has gone off, and I don' recall that I was dreaming about it going off before I woke. I fall back on an old habit, categorising everything that I am aware of. What can I hear from the safety of my bed. Inside everything sounds normal. I can hear a blind rattling down the passageway, but that wouldn't wake me. That blind has rattled for as long as I have lived in this house.It is raining outside, but that shouldn't wake me. Even the howling wind sounds normal. Then I hear it. It is disguised by the sounds of the wind and the rain, and by the sound of that rattling blind. There are footsteps in the rain. And there are sharp cracking noises that are separate from the rattle made by the blinds. And that swooshing noise is not all wind. There is something riding the wind, which changes the tone just slightly. The noises are oddly familiar, as well as strangely muted. I keep thinking it is something happening far away, and then I register the clarity of the noise and I know that it must be right outside my window.
I still haven't stirred from the position I was in when I woke. I had been listening in the way one listens when one is trying to determine if someone has broken into the house. Or trying to determine if that spook from the scary movie you watched last week has somehow appeared in your closet. Having now identified what woke me (although I'm still not sure why) I roll over and open my eyes. There is nothing strange to see in my room. The street light from the corner is shining through the crack in my curtains, allowing just enough light that I can see my room is exactly as I left it last night. I am very neat in my habits. It comes of having spent a couple of my more formative years in the navy. Every item that I own has a specific place where it belongs, and I can tell immediately if there is anything out of place. I have friends who find this habit a little daunting, and others who will attempt to prank me by moving things around while I am out of the room. I don't really mind. It keeps me on my toes, and forces me to remain observant at all times.
Having determined that my room is all in order, I sit up and turn to the window. Twitching aside the curtain, I pear out into the rain. It is gloomy out there. My window looks out into a paved courtyard, so everything is grey. In this stormy weather the only source of light is the orange of the sodium lamp that is still used in the street light on the corner. This is reflecting strangely off the water drops on my window, making it difficult to get a clear view of the courtyard below. The footsteps have become clearer though. They are sounding more and more familiar, but I still can't place it. Then I realise that one of the cracking noises I have been hearing is very regular, and that the footsteps are keeping perfect time. These are not just footsteps. This is marching. I heard the sound of troops being drilled in a very similar way whilst in training. I was just on the inside of the group, and so I heard the sound from all directions, and not just from one. It was also much louder then.
I continue to watch the rain for a while, slowly allowing my brain to filter out the different sounds I am hearing. I can tell the footsteps apart from the rain now, and the drumming from the rattling blind. I still can't tell what is riding the wind. I start to scan the skies hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever it is, but I realise in this darkness that will be futile. I would not be able to spot an air force glider in this, and I am intimately familiar with what those look like in all different terrains. I don't stand a chance of spotting a glider that is as muted as the sound of the footsteps.
Wait. I catch my breath. There. I can see movement. The rain drops are falling wrong. On the right side of the courtyard. It is a different shade of grey to the rest. I press my face up against the glass of the window. Trying to pierce the misty gloom that is the atmosphere. The movement is not obvious, but as I focus on the same patch of ground I start to make out some details. That corner is not as empty as I had thought. There is something there, and it is the source of the noises I can hear. A flash catches my eye, and I glance up. I could swear that was the wing of a glider, but something is still off. I'm still not sure what. But I can't sit and watch out my window any longer. It is time to go and make a closer investigation.
As silently as I can I get out of bed, and open the closet to get my rain coat. I need to find out what it is that is in the corner of my courtyard. Whatever it is, it must be big enough to keep off the neighbourhood cats, and that means it must be very well camouflaged. Even more curious at this thought I find my slippers and head to the back door to go out and investigate. As I reach the door I realise that everyone will tell me this whole thing was a dream if I don't make some kind of a record of it, so I slip back to my room to grab my cellphone. If I can't get a good picture of whatever this thing is, I should at least be able to get a decent sound bite. And then I can analyse it. Maybe even get some help running it through real analysis software. Shaking my head at my own overeagerness I head out the back once again.
I have to fight to close the door quietly. The wind is blowing harder than I had thought. The rain is really pouring down too. I suspect that I will soon be soaked through, despite the rain coat. My slippers are already pretty useless. Oh well, now I'm wet, I might as well find out what woke me up. I cock my head, listening to check that my leaving the house has not silence the whatever it is. I can still hear the patterns of the rain, and the patterns of the drumming. The sound of footsteps has quieted. I move slowly towards the corner where I saw the movement. As I get near I start to hear the sounds more clearly. This is definitely a troop of soldiers being drilled in how to handle themselves in this kind of weather, but I still can't see them, and the sounds are still too quiet for their clarity.
Suddenly I hear a different noise, and I feel a sting to my right hand. Like I have been bitten by a particularly nasty fly. I look at it, and to my surprise I see that my hand is bleeding slightly. And there appears to be something in the wound. It was definitely not a bee sting, and the noise had come from the direction of the moving shadows. I drop to my knees in order to better see what is happening, and I finally realise what I had been missing all along. The reason everything sounds too quiet to me, is that the makers of the noise are incredibly small.
I'm not sure whether I should be freaked out by the sight of what looks like living toy soldiers, or to be super excited. Freezing where I am, I take out my phone to try and get a photo. As I do so I hear a shout, and then the report of a dozen tiny rifles, and feel the front of my raincoat take the hit of a dozen tiny bullets. I know why the cats don't bother these guys now. I am definitely weary of them. I can't make out the words that they are saying, so I do not think they will understand me. I also think that the volume difference is going to work both ways. They sound too quiet to me, I am going to sound far too loud to them. And I have already startled them enough. I sit back, trying to show that I am not a threat, while still trying to get my phone into a position to take a photo.
As I sit back, a couple of shapes break off from the group. As they get closer I identify them as officers. These guys are sharp. They are dressed smartly and and neatly, and even though they are in danger of being knocked over by a large rain drop, they move forward steadily. I am impressed. I finally manage to get the use of my cellphone as the arrive. I reach out an arm, hoping to try and take a selfie with them (no one would believe me otherwise). As I do so, they run up and start scaling my clothing. I feel very much like I am reliving Gulliver's travels.
I am starting to get freaked out. They have reached most of the way up my torso now. I decide I need to get out of here, and leave them to their training. As they reach my shoulders I take my selfie and shake, hoping to dislodge them. As they fall I reach out a hand to catch them, lay them gently on the ground, and then moving as quickly as I can I get to my feet and dash back to the door. Having made it back inside I relax a bit, and take stock of my situation. I am absolutely soaked, and my heart is racing wildly. I need to relax. I start peeling off my rain coat, and I realise that one of the soldiers must have been frightened literally out of his boots when he fell, because there they are, caught in my jacket.
Placing them carefully on the counter I smile as I say out loud. “Sometimes it is the smallest feet that make the most impact.” Before heading for the shower and back to bed.
Cool! Slightly weird, but cool :-)
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