Night Sweats

My grandmother, straightlaced and a fiscal conservative down to her last penny, would often trail after us turning off lights. Got stock in Con Ed? she was fond of asking with an irked edge in her voice as if she could shame us into being more conscientious consumers with every flick of a lightswitch.

I thought of her this morning when I woke just after two am in total and too warm darkness - no night light glowed in the hall, no computer screen flickered, no streetlights shone through the blinds of the sun room. It took a moment or two to realize that the eerie sense of wrongness was due to the power being off again. I kicked off cats and covers and went to the front door - the air was heavy with rain and the wind was making a swishy sort of racket through the trees, limbs and leaves bending and swaying like exotic dancers, rustling and whispering among themselves. There was not a sign of light or life anywhere. The black dog stood with her head cocked, peering through the glass and listening intently. Guess that Con Ed stock has seen its day now, I told her, Let's go back to bed.

The sandman, however, had other ideas and had taken his leave by then. Even with all the animals gathered around me for comfort, I felt edgy - it didn't take long to begin seeing unfriendly shapes in the dark and start hearing noises I didn't much like. I got back up and began a round of candle lighting throughout the house, found a chocolate bar and an unfinished but still cold Coke, and curled up in the leather chair by the window with the tabby in my lap and both dogs watching anxiously from the bedroom. The other cats prowled watchfully, a little wary of this sudden and overwhelming silence, this shadowless and slightly troubled night. I thought I might try to read by the light of a candle, maybe coax a little sleep from the pages of a book, but then realized I'd have to search for something that wasn't a Stephen King novel, and I dismissed the idea - my imagination was already a step away from overdrive, no need to drive it into the paranormal or over the edge and into the macabre - I would let my favorite author be.

By six, the sky had begun to lighten ever so slightly, the rain had stopped, the wind died down. I heard a siren from very far away, then the echo of a train whistle. The tabby woke and nuzzled into my shoulder, the dogs began to pace to go outside and a feline chorus took up the call to breakfast. There was still no power but there was the beginning of light and another day.