There Arose Such a Clatter
Here’s What I Know
Last night — Christmas Eve Eve — I was reading Mark Ewbie stories when sirens started going off. It was just my kitten and me. And those Mark Ewbie stories.
My kitten, the esteemed QT Pie Thunderbolt, was not bothered. I petted her, read some more, and hoped for the best.
But after a few minutes, I noticed the sirens weren’t going away. In fact, they were getting louder. And angrier. And more urgent.
I said to myself, “Is this what happens when you read too much Mark Ewbie?”
Pish-posh! Couldn’t be.
But the menacing creep of emergency services made me wonder …
So I went to the window. I didn’t see anything. But I swear it sounded like more and more were arriving.
There’s a prison and a military base and a few thousand lunatics nearby. Could be anything. Anything! But … what was it?
I peeped around outside. Still nothing in sight. But boy they were loud.
I sniffed around, kind of like a cat, and didn’t smell anything burning. I didn’t hear any yelling or gunshots. My phone didn’t ping with any warnings. It was just the sirens.
“QT,” I told my cat, “we might have to evacuate or behead some people. I’ll let you know which here in a few minutes.”
QT meowed and then went back to cleaning her fur.
I went back to Mark Ewbie quoting The Gospel According to Sigmund Freud. The Dead Sea Scrolls have nothing on this …
Those Damn Sirens
QT began beating me in the face with her tail. She said, “Swivels, get back outside and figure out what’s going on.” Bam bam bam! Right across my eyebrows.
I said, “Okay QT.”
She said, “It’s not okay at all. It could be the PURGE out there!”
She had a point. Back outside I went.
Still no sign of anything. The sirens were maniacal but no more so than the last time I was outside. I walked around and then went back in. It was a bit nipply and I didn’t bother with a jacket.
I Went Back to the Stories
And then it got worse. The sirens finally gave birth to lights.
I said, “Ewbie? Are you some kind of evil wordsmith? ARE YOU CONJURING THINGS ON OTHER CONTINENTS?!”
I ran to the window — and there they were.
A firetruck. An ambulance. Many police cars. All lights and psycho sirens.
BUT WHY?
It looked like a parade. Or a manhunt — something out of The Nightmare Before Christmas. And it just kept going. No answers, no stopping.
They went to the stop sign towards the end of my street, made a right, and went on like this always happens on a Monday night.
I went back outside. One of my neighbors was running around with a baby on her hip. (I figured it’s hers.) A couple cars careened down the street after the parade left, driving on the wrong side of the road. After another 30 minutes or so, the sirens stopped.
No burning.
No gunshots.
No explanation.
When I got back inside QT Pie asked, “What was it? Did you find out what it was? Meow meow.”
I thought about it for a second.
I said, “Yeah. Turns out, it’s bedtime.”
And into a pillow nest I snuggled.
Swivels in, Swivels out.
