There it was again. The scratching. It was like The Telltale Heart but instead of a rhythmic thumping he was hearing the faintest, most annoying, raspy sound one could imagine. He’d been all over the house both inside and out. Nothing. Was it a rodent? They’d been in this house almost ten years and hadn’t had any problems with them. He kept trying to pinpoint it, but it moved. You’d hear it in the master bedroom, think you had a bead on it and go to listen, but it would stop the second you got close. Then a half hour later it would be in the dining room. And it always seemed to be near the exterior walls. It was the oddest danged thing. If Amy and their kids hadn’t heard it too, he’d have sworn his cheddar had slid off his Triscuit.
“What is that sound daddy?” Micah asked from the combination family room and kitchen about two hours after he’d first heard it. His little boy was on the couch near the sliding glass door that opened on the backyard.
“I don’t know buddy,” he replied, thankful that his cheddar was in fact still firmly planted on his Triscuit. “But I hear it too. Wanna help me look?” Micah nodded and jumped off the couch. He’d just turned six last month. What a great age to be a little boy. He was still young enough to believe in Santa but was developing the ability to ask probing and incisive questions about the jolly old fellow. And to still call him daddy, not dad. That would change soon when his friends started to teach him how uncool calling your dad daddy was. So Sam would enjoy it while he could. Once his son quit calling him daddy, he likely never would again.
“How do we do it?” Micah asked.
“Let’s team up. The last place I heard it was right under the window. So we’ll start there. You go right and I’ll go left. We go all the way around the room and meet on the far wall. Got it?” Micah nodded. “Ok, when I say go, we both start walking, but go really slow, be quiet and listen hard. Go!” Sam went left while his son went right. Micah did exactly what his dad had told him to do, but neither one of them heard it again.
“It didn’t make the noise,” the little boy said gravely when they’d completed their circuit of the room.
“No. I didn’t hear it either. Let’s try the other rooms.”
Methodically, dutifully and carefully, they searched every room in the house. Amy and Micah’s big sister Leah were at grandma’s house for another hour or so, and the boys had gone through the whole house twice before they got back.
“How was grandma’s?” Sam asked as they came in.
“It was fun!” Leah said. “We baked cookies. She gave us some for you and Micah.” His little girl would be eight in three months. Sam couldn’t believe how quickly she was growing. Amy had run straight to their bedroom and the en suite claiming an urgent need to empty her bladder, so he hadn’t had the chance to tell her about the strange scratching sound. Micah submarined him.
“Hey! Guess what?” he exclaimed to his sister as he bit into a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. “Me and daddy looked all over the house to find the weird noise. But we didn’t find it.”
“What weird noise?” Amy said as she joined them in the family room.
“The weird noise we heard,” Micah said.
“I heard it first about two hours ago,” Sam said. “It’s a really quiet scratching sound. Every time I think I know where it’s coming from and get close to it, it stops. Then later I’ll hear it in a different spot.”
“That’s really creepy,” Amy said. “Makes me think of horror movies.”
“I heard it too,” Micah said before Sam could reply. “We looked for it.”
“That’s what you said,” his mother replied. “It was nice of you to help your daddy.” Micah beamed at his mother and shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth. “Come here. You have chocolate all over your hands.” Amy took him to the kitchen sink and cleaned him up.
“So what do you think the noise is?” she asked from across the long island that divided the kitchen from the family room.
“I don’t know,” Sam replied. “It’s really quiet. Hard to tell. I even thought I might have been imagining it until Micah heard it too.”
Amy frowned. “I don’t like this. We need to figure it out.” She glanced at each of the kids, then fixed her husband with a firm look. He understood immediately. Allowing the strange sound to scare them was unacceptable. To either of them. He nodded in agreement.
“Trust me, I’ve been trying,” Sam said.
“Could it be a mouse?” She paused and an expression of disgust formed on her face. “Or a rat?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. We haven’t had any since we moved in. Don’t know why we would now.”
“Maybe one decided it liked our house as much as we do,” she said with a grin that looked forced.
Sam smiled back hoping to reassure her. “Yeah, we do have a pretty great house for being in the suburbs.” They both hated the suburbs and wanted nothing more than to move someplace completely rural. But financial and professional constraints kept them where they were, although they did really like their house. At least it had an eight-foot-tall privacy fence around the backyard.
The discussion about the strange noise ended, and everyone went on with their day until about an hour later when Leah called out from her room that she heard it. Amy was on the couch in the family room reading something on her Kindle, while Sam was puttering around in the kitchen.
“We’re coming,” Amy called as she stood from the couch.
“Walk softly,” Sam said to her. “It stops when you get close. Maybe if we’re quiet enough, it’ll keep going until we figure out what and where it is.”
They padded down the hall as quietly as they could until reaching their daughter’s room. She was on her bed, eyes wide and pointed toward the floor under the window that looked out the side of the house toward their neighbor’s place.
“It’s right over there,” she whispered.
Sam held his finger to his lips, and the three of them listened closely in the silence. Micah must not have heard them, or he’d have come running and probably caused it to stop.
Sam was just about to go back to the kitchen when he heard it. The sound was barely audible, but it was there, right where Leah had pointed. A very muffled scratching. It lasted for three or four seconds and stopped.
“Was that it?” Amy whispered over her shoulder to him. Leah was looking at both of them with wide, frightened eyes.
He shrugged, and they all waited for well over a minute, but it didn’t come again.
“What is that sound?” Sam asked no one in particular.
“I don’t know,” Amy replied.
“At least I’m not crazy. You both heard it.”
Micah was suddenly behind them. “I’m gonna go outside,” he said.
Sam turned to him. “Ok, you can go in the backyard. I’ll be out in a minute, and we can play on the swing set.” Micah grinned and ran off.
“Should we call someone?” Amy asked.
“I would if we knew what it was. I don’t think it’s bugs, so no need to call an exterminator. Who we call depends entirely on what it is.”
“Yeah, I guess so. It’s just… creepy.”
“I don’t think it’s anything dangerous, just annoying. I’ll look around outside and see if I find anything.”
He followed his son out the back door, and it didn’t take much to convince the boy to help him search around the house. They circled it three times and found nothing but a broken vent in the foundation. It was one of those louvered deals, plastic, and about half of the little slats were gone on one side. He wouldn’t even have seen it since it was behind a dense bush, but Micah had pulled the branches away from the house to search and inadvertently exposed it. Sam even looked along the privacy fence and around the play set with the swings, but came up empty. He wasn’t afraid of whatever was making the sound, but it was definitely getting annoying not being able to figure out what it was.
Later, after they’d gone inside, he heard it again near the dining room. And just like every other time, as soon as he got close, it was gone. He wondered idly if they had a ghost and considered checking public records to see if maybe someone had died in the house before they’d bought it. But he seemed to remember the real estate agent saying it was law that a death in a dwelling had to be disclosed, and nothing had been mentioned during the entire purchase process. He’d have remembered something like that. And Amy would have flat refused to live there. But did someone have to die in a house for a ghost to inhabit it? He had a small home office next to the front door, and a few minutes of searching the internet gave him no more clear an answer to that question than he’d had before.
Dinnertime was uneventful, and no one brought up the noise, which Sam was thankful for. Afterwards both kids fell asleep on the couch watching some show on Netflix with Amy. Sam was in his home office working on something for Monday morning at his job when he heard it again. This time it was right under his desk. Practically below his feet. He even thought he could feel the vibration through the vinyl flooring. When it started, he stayed completely still and listened as intently as he could. He hadn’t been this close to it before. Every other time he’d been across a room or in a different part of the house. There was something else, now that he was this close. A very faint sound in addition to the scratching. A high-pitched whine. Do ghosts whine? Why was he thinking of ghosts? There had to be a perfectly rational explanation for the noise. But what the heck was it? Then it hit him. He’d never checked the crawlspace under the house, even after finding the broken vent with Micah. In fact, he’d never even been in it. Ever. They’d had a home inspection done before buying the house, and he’d seen pictures the inspector took, but that was the extent of his experience with the crawlspace. How had he not thought about the crawlspace? His heart was suddenly pounding. Sam was claustrophobic and hated tight, confined spaces. His memories of the pictures from the inspection were that it was very… confined down there. Like crawl on your belly confined. He had to man up though. This was his house, and he was the dad. Jobs like this were what he was supposed to do. Besides, would he be able to look at himself in the mirror if his wife had to go crawling around under the house because he was too scared to? Suck it up peanut butter cup, and get to it.
“I think I know where it’s coming from,” he said quietly to Amy. She was on the couch texting someone on her phone. Whatever the conversation was, by the grimace on her face, she didn’t like the subject.
“Oh yeah?” she asked, looking up at him.
“Under the house. In the crawlspace. I’m going down there.”
“You are? Aren’t you claustrophobic?”
He nodded. Both kids had woken up and were rubbing their eyes. Good thing it was a Saturday. They could sleep in tomorrow. “Yeah, I am. But I have to know what this is. Gonna change into grubby clothes first. I’m sure it’s filthy and full of cobwebs down there. I’ll probably need a shower after. Would you get the flashlight?”
A few minutes later the four of them were gathered outside in the dark. The crawlspace was accessed by a panel in the side of the house. It was just big enough for him to fit through. He shone the flashlight around once he was inside, and his initial suspicion was correct. It was filthy and full of cobwebs.
“You ok down there?” Amy asked.
“Yeah, I’m alright,” he said in a resigned tone. “It’s pretty gross though. Worse than I imagined. And smaller.” He could tell right away that he was going to be crawling on his face or back to get under the floor joists, and that there wouldn’t be much clearance between them and his body. How did people go into places like this for a living? It was inconceivable. He almost laughed aloud remembering the line from that movie The Princess Bride: ‘You keep saying that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.’ Sam took three slow, deep breaths and promised himself that once this excursion was over, he was hiring someone to come down here next time, regardless of what the problem was.
The flashlight hadn’t shown him anything out of the ordinary, but it was hard to tell with all the cobwebs. They blocked the light pretty effectively. He was amazed at how thick they were. Cobwebs were just abandoned spider webs, and based on how many there were, a lot of spiders lived down here. Maybe he’d be calling an exterminator after all.
“Would you grab me a broom?” he called up to Amy. He heard her tell Leah to get it from the laundry room, and a moment later he heard his daughter’s footsteps bounding through the house. It was loud down here even though there was insulation between the joists. No wonder whatever it was had stopped when they approached. Even walking quietly he would have bet good money their clomping around was clearly audible to whatever was making the scratching sound. Leah pounding back across the floor heralded the appearance of a broom handle which he took gratefully.
“You ok daddy?” Micah asked. “Is there anything down there?”
“I’m ok buddy, and I don’t see anything yet.”
He began clearing the cobwebs. The broom did a spectacular job, and he could soon see halfway across the crawlspace. But to see the rest he had to move. Resigned to his grim fate, Sam crawled on his stomach to about the center of the house, clearing cobwebs as he went. He shone the light around and tried not to think about all that house on top of him. And the host of spiders who were surely still in residence. Nothing. This search should be done methodically, he thought. Just like how he and Micah had searched the room upstairs, each taking half. Since he was on his own down here, he moved to his left toward the exterior wall, turned right when he got close enough to see it clearly, and began a round trip through the crawlspace. There just wasn’t anything down here. Not finding something was more puzzling, and irritating, than hearing the sound to begin with.
Sam was about to head gratefully for the exit but stopped to take one more look. His eyes swept over the crawlspace slowly and deliberately. There was nothing- Wait. There was something. Over there in the corner farthest from him. The only one he hadn’t thoroughly searched. A small, dark little ball. Unmoving. Sam approached it slowly and cautiously, his claustrophobia completely forgotten.
About ten feet from it, he stopped and shone the light directly on it and knew immediately what he was looking at.
“I found it,” he called. “Be out in a minute.”
Amy and the kids were waiting outside the opening to the crawlspace when the broom handle emerged. “Grab this will ya?” Sam asked. Amy took it and handed it to Leah without a word, then took the flashlight that came out after.
“Do you need help getting out?” she asked.
“No. I can manage. But can I give you something else?”
“What else is there?” she asked.
“The thing making the scratching noise.”
“What is it?” The hesitation in her voice was evident.
“Micah,” he said, ignoring the question for a moment. “Take the flashlight and shine it on mommy’s hands.” The little boy, eyes wide with excitement, did exactly as his daddy told him.
“It’s nothing that’ll hurt you,” Sam said. “In fact, I think you’ll like it.” His right arm suddenly burst from the opening. In his hand was something small and black. Amy took it gingerly with both of hers. It was soft and… furry.
“It’s a kitten!” Leah exclaimed.
“A kitty!” Micah said at the same time.
Amy was too surprised to reply, but she grinned widely when her husband emerged from the crawlspace filthy, sweaty and covered in cobwebs, but grinning too.
“I found this little furball over there,” he said pointing toward the front of the house nearest the garage. It was curled up and sleeping. I could see spots in the floor joists and insulation where it had been scratching once I knew what it was and started looking for them. Must have been trying to get out. Or find its momma.”
Amy’s grin turned to a frown. “I think I know where its momma is,” she said quietly. She handed the kitten, which had begun purring, to Leah who was petting it with her brother, and pulled her phone from her pocket. She opened the text message app and showed him a thread of messages between her and a neighbor down the street. Another neighbor had hit a cat with their car the day before and was still upset about it. The kids were too busy petting the very happy kitten to notice their parents’ hushed conversation.
“So it doesn’t have a momma anymore,” Sam said quietly.
“We’ve talked about getting a cat or a dog,” Amy whispered. She turned her head away from him and looked at the kitten. “What do you think we should do with it?” she asked him loudly enough for the kids to hear. Their excited faces turned to their parents.
“I think on Monday that little fella, or lady, I didn’t look, is going to the vet,” Sam said solemnly. A slow grin spread across his face. “Then I think we need to go buy a litterbox. And some cat food.”
“You mean we can keep it?” Leah asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
“What are we going to name it daddy?” Micah asked. The little boy was practically jumping up and down.
“I know!” Leah said before anyone else could reply. She continued without stopping. “My friend Emily at school has a kitty named Patches because he has black and brown and white spots on his sides.”
“I think I know where you’re going with this,” Amy said with a smile. “Want me to guess?”
“Scratches!” Leah said triumphantly.
