Bang Bang

I was still up around midnight, well, let’s face it, wasting my life on my computer, when I heard a loud bang. What the hell? Then I realized it was the spark problem out the front of the house, which I had experienced once the week before last, which I hesitatingly accredited to something, or someone, going bang in the street and which a neighbour called the fire brigade about last week, confirming my stuffed down belief that it was closer to home that a passer by misbehaving. So, I headed out the front to see if I could see exactly what was sparking. I suspected it was happening at the connection to the house and not the power pole at all, but I needed to see for myself.

I was standing under the veranda out of the rain when it happened again, but I had diverted my eyes momentarily and it was too bright and too sudden for me to see exactly what was making the sparks fly. It made me jump though and call out, Jesus fucking Christ!

So, I got an umbrella and stood in the rain on the road. As I stood there, a large rat ran out the front gate, did a twirl and then ran back in the gate and up my front path again. Euw! And the front door was ajar too. Euw! again. I did a little anxiety dance on the spot.

Taxi’s came and taxis went. The rain fell down and dripped from every corner of my umbrella. The streetlights shone out in yellow contained pools, seemingly restricted by the inclement weather. Each end of the street seemed to be hidden behind a veil of water falling down, as though frosted glass had been installed at the extremities. Everything in between seemed to shine with the wet slick that covered them.

I wondered if I should be looking directly at it, if the previous explosion was anything to go by. I’d hate for my retinas to be permanently scarred. I contemplated making one of those box mirror things that you use to look at an eclipse. It was rubbish night, the bins were out… I figured all I’d need to complete the picture was a bunch of plastic bags, a worn trench coat and a Safeway trolley.

When I reported the problem five days ago, the nice lady at the electricity company said that it was quite common for power poles to spark in the wet and that it was nothing to worry about.

I gazed up at the power pole standing sentry at the side of the road; big and black and looming. The black sky behind made it look slightly menacing.

BANG!

I jumped.

Sparks flew from the electricity connection on the front of the house. It sounded like a gunshot ringing out in the street, no wonder the neighbour reported it. If they were a light sleeper, it could certainly be problematic.

BANG!

The old Addams Family façade lit up like it was the 4th of July. All it need was a few pinwheels and some rockets and maybe an eighteen year old jumping out of a cake.

I fixed my face into a permanent wince, I could feel it in my cheeks and around my eyes, not a good thing for crow’s feet and wrinkles, I’m sure and held my breath, as I gazed at the house and waited.

I amused myself with the thought of the neighbour bouncing off the bed with each explosion.

As I gazed at the front of the house, dripping in octagonal sprinkles, waiting for the next gunshot, I shook my head and though, what more do you need to see?

I came inside and called the nice lady from the electricity company.

“Where the power attaches to your house, you say?”

“Yes, the connection to the house.”

“I’ll have a crew out as soon as I can. Can I have a number that they can call you on if they need to talk to you? Will you be on site and available?”

Who can sleep with shot gun salute playing every fifteen fucking minutes? “Yes.”

“Okay, rightio then.”

Rightio? “I don’t mind waiting up, if you can tell me how long they will be?”

“No, I can’t give you a time.” Give or take a week, I thought. “You don’t need to wait up?”

But if they are going to call? “Okay then.”

“They take this very seriously, don’t worry.”

Poor bastards, I thought. In the dark and the rain, they must love that.

An hour later, a white truck pulled up outside, as I lay in bed watching TV. The phone began to ring. I headed outside, instead of answering it.

“Sorry to wake you up,” said the strapping man in the reflective wet weather gear with the soothing voice, although it had stopped raining by then. “We’ll have to replace the line from the power pole. These old connections are covered in plastic, but when it deteriorates, it allows the water to connect with the power… and…” he held his hands in the air.

“It’s loud explosion.”

“Yes, I’m sure. We’ll have to turn you power off for half an hour, or so. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“You can go back to bed now.”

“Thanks.”

2.50am.

I watched the strapping man’s mate climb an impossibly tall ladder that reached all the way to the top of the sentry light pole, as a light sprinkling of rain began to fall again. My vertigo made me shiver at the thought. I fell into bed and pulled the doona up to my face. Torchlights flickered behind my curtains like an extra terrestrial landing. I thought of Close Encounters of the third kind.

I hoped the neighbour was watching just to see that something was being done. Poor, sleep deprived bitch!

My last thoughts were, Ah, house maintenance, at last. Tick.