It all started when I couldn’t hear the sound of the drip anymore.
I was working in Melli’s gas station, sitting at the cash register and watching Animal Planet as usual. Everyone in the neighborhood liked to call me Nature Boy. I always liked watching animals in nature, shit always fascinated me.
It was a hot day, I think it was one hundred degrees outside. So I turned the air conditioner in the window next to me to the highest setting. Melli said never to do that because it burns out at full power, but he wasn’t the one sweating in here, so I turned the dial up as high as I could.
The little air conditioner worked pretty well, but it was always dripping, so I had to put a bucket under it. I couldn’t stand that dripping sound, it drove me crazy, and if I turned it all the way up, it would drip every second.
So there I was, cool, but annoyed. I try to listen to the television, but all I hear is drip, drip, drip. I remember thinking that if I could kill one sound right now, it would be that drip. And just like that, the sound was gone. Not all of it, I could still hear Animal Planet on the television I was watching and all the sounds from outside, but the dripping, it was gone.
I still felt the air conditioner on me, so it wasn’t burning out. I reluctantly turned my head away from Animal Planet and looked over at the air conditioner. It was still dripping.
I squatted down and put my ear next to the bucket and couldn’t hear the drip. I got so close that some of it splashed in my ear, the cool feeling startled me and made me jump back.
I heard someone call my name, so I turn to the counter and see Reggie trying to buy cigarettes.
I help him, all the while watching the air conditioner drip into the bucket I can’t hear.
After Reggie left, I turned my full attention back to the bucket. I just stared at it and watched the drops fall into it. I imagined the sound of each drop hitting the bucket, and like unmuting a television, the sound was back. I don’t know why, but this made me laugh and I laughed for quite a while. A customer came in and looked at me, like what’s so funny?
After that, I spent all my time working on it. But I didn’t tell anybody about it, they’d think I was doing drugs, but I never touched that shit.
I was always at the gas station working, so I practiced every day while I was there.
When I first learned to control it, I did the same thing I did with the drip. I would get mad at a sound, like I wanted to kill it, and it would just mute. Then I would think about what it would sound like, and it would come back.
Sometimes it didn’t work. I don’t know if it was because I wasn’t angry enough at the sound or if I wasn’t concentrating hard enough. But sometimes the sound just wouldn’t go away.
But I kept at it and got better. I found that I could do it with more than one sound at a time.
I got so good that I could tune out all the noise around me and just focus on a fly buzzing around the store. I was able to track down the fly like a lion tracking a gazelle.
Finally, I did what anyone would do if they had the same ability. I started eavesdropping on people.
Everyone is always on their phone, so I’d tune out everything around me except them and listen.
JoJo would be talking to a cutie on the phone, trying to lure her in like a spider-tail horned viper. Tanya would bitch about all her hair clients, chatty like a meerkat. Emit would always be out front asking for change and dropping knowledge in return, "bad days make good days feel so much better.” He reminded me of a wise ass orangutan with his big orange coat. It was like having my own Animal Planet show.
I spent a lot of time in that gastation enjoying myself. Sometimes the sounds around me were too much, so I would tune out the yelling in the parking lot, the loud cars, and the dripping air conditioner and just listen to a bird singing in a tree. It would be my own personal concert. I got so caught up in the singing that sometimes a customer had to tap me to bring my attention back.
All of that led up to the night when he came in. I could tell he wasn’t from around here. The way he was dressed, he looked like he was going to a wedding or a meeting or something. All business-like. His black suit against his pale skin let me know right away that he was a zebra. It wasn’t after club hours yet, so the parking lot was empty except for his car and one other.
When he walked in, he was on the phone, and I knew I was going to eavesdrop.
Most of the time I didn’t have to tune out my own breathing, but he was all the way in the back of the store, so I had trouble hearing him. I also turned up the television so he had to talk louder.
He was telling someone, “I have the package in my trunk.” At first I didn’t think anything of it until he said, "of course she can’t get out, she’s tied up.” I immediately looked outside to his car. He was driving a Mercedes and the trunk was facing away from us. I thought of all the things he could have tied up back there. A deer, naw not enough room in the trunk. A puppy, but I quickly dismissed that thought, who the hell would tie a puppy up in a trunk. He told the person on the phone, “I’ll be there in an hour, so just hold tight.” By the time he made it to the front, I had made up my mind, I knew what was in the trunk.
The problem I had now was what to do about it. There was no way I was going to call the police, they didn’t give a fuck about us.
I knew Milli kept a gun under the counter, he had even told me to use it if I ever needed it. But I never felt comfortable around guns.
It wasn’t wise to take a risk in a fight when I could just use the gun. Or, I could ignore what I had heard and just let him go.
I must have taken too long to weigh my options, because he knocked his fist on the counter to get my attention.
I tell him sorry and start ringing up his items.
I think that I don’t know what to do, but I’m lying to myself, because I know there is really only one option.
He pays with cash, and as I count his change, I drop a quarter. I reach down to pick it up and take a deep breath before I come up with Milli’s gun pointing right at him. I yell stop because that’s the only thing I can think of.
He throws his hands up defensively and asks, “what the hell are you doing?”
I don’t think before speaking and say, "I know what you have in your trunk.”
His eyes get big, but after a second he regains his composure. He tells me, "I don’t know what you’re talking about, you need to put the gun down.”
I tell him, “bullshit, you need to open your trunk so I can see what’s in there.”
Everysound is still tuned out but him, so I can hear his breathing change. Nervous breathes, like a zebra seeing a lion. He's breathing like he either has to run or fight. Both options are bad for me.
But I’m as nervous as he is, my hand shakes with the gun. My voice trembles when I speak. Can he see it? Does he hear it? Does he have a gun on him? Shit, what am I doing?
We stand like that for what feels like an eternity before I tell him what we’re going to do.
“You keep your hands up while I come around the counter, then we’re going to your car so you can open the trunk for me.”
He starts to say something but I jab my gun at him and tell him, “don’t say anything.”
He does what I tell him until we get to the parking lot, then he speaks. “I have to get in the car to open the trunk"
I tell him, “he’ll naw, you drive a fucking Mercedes, you could probably open the trunk with facial recognition. Just pull out your keys and open it.”
He swears quietly.
We walk to the car and I tell him to stop at the driver's door. I walk backwards from him toward the trunk, but stay on the same side as him and tell him to pop it.
Before he does, he looks at me, I mean he really looks at me with the coldest eyes I have ever felt and tells me, "whatever you think is in the trunk, it’s not. As soon as I open the trunk and you see what’s in there, it can’t be unseen.”
I shove my gun at him and give him a wordless command. He shrugs and reluctantly clicks on his key fob. I know I only have to take my eyes off him for a second to take a look in the trunk. I peek inside and see what I need to see.
He’s right. I stare into the trunk for much longer than I need to. I try to peel my eyes away but it’s as if I can’t, as if they’re glued. I know that what I am seeing is the answer to all my questions about my hearing ability. I can feel it in my ears, in my eardrums, pulsing. At that moment, I knew I would never see anything like it on Animal Planet.
The zebra moves, and I hear the sound of expelled air from his nostrils as he lunges at me. For a moment I think, this zebra is confused. I’ve lived in the wild for much longer than he has. He has forgotten how the food chain works. Yeah, I may not be the most ferocious out here, but I’m still a fucking lion. I let my gun roar and attack.
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6 comments
Leaves much to the imagination! Welcome to Reedsy. Thanks for liking my Where the Wild Things Aren't
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Thank you for reading! Your story was great, I liked the approach you used for the dragon.
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I like your humour. Yes, I like also how you played with the sounds enhancing that sense in ur character. I like how you weaved the story from animal planet to having a confrontation between a zebra and a lion. It was like I was there wondering what the hell is in the trunk, or a Psycho welding a gun at me. I have hypersensitive hearing, recently my daughter gifted me sound cancelling head phones what a blessing and finally some mercy. When I take them off the sound is crazy. I hardly have lengthy conversations in my writing. In Austral...
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Thank you for the feedback!
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Good stuff! Your story grabbed my attention from the start!
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Thank you for reading!
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