THE EAST PATCHOGUE HORRORS

It all started innocently enough, one Sunday evening in early July of 1971. It was the first Sunday home from our honeymoon, and we retired to bed with all the Sunday papers, and a few snacks. We were renting an apartment from a gentleman named Harry, who bought old homes, fixed them up and either sold or rented them. He retired to a villa in Italy when he was about 50 years old. I will mention Harry in a later blog.

As we settled in, the Little Woman said she heard something. A “thump” coming out of the apartment upstairs from us, where the widow Dolly lived, and happened too be away on a vacation at the time.

I said to the Little Woman that maybe it was her imagination, and not to worry about it. Once again she heard the thump sound and again brought it to my attention. I suggested she lay off the wine on Sundays, but I knew darned well that I hadn’t heard the end of it. Already I was attuned to life at a young and tender age of living with the Little Woman.

She gave me instructions to go into the living room to see if I could hear it too. Being the really good and perfect husband that I aspired to be and did become I went out like she said. “Thump, thump, thump…”I heard it too! I reported back immediately, because she likes immediate reports from me, and related my findings. “Should we call the police?” said she, “What have I gotten myself into?” thinks I. “No, it’s probably the house settling or some silly little thing” I responded, convinced that I was not getting away with this answer, and that the police were as good as here already.

She issued new orders. “Go outside and look around,” said the Little Woman, as I dutifully saluted and went on my way. She likes the proper salute, fingers extended; thumb parallel to the forefinger, arm at a 45-degree angle, and upper arm parallel to the floor. As I began my reconnaissance I noticed that Dolly’s window was wide open, and the window overlook the roof extension for the porch over my front door and windows. I report back, and she gave new orders, “Call the police”, if she were a Brooklyn girl she would have called them “cops.” I responded, “Maybe I should climb up and look first?” “No, call the police.” Off I go to our shiny new yellow wall phone, that matches our décor and I call the police. They come, 3 squad cars full, completely surrounding the house, one decided to climb up on my trash cans, and shimmy up the pole that holds the porch roof, in which I had to cup my hands so he could get a step up on the trash can. The police finally come down and my wife is sitting on the couch as we come into the living room. “Gee officer, I’m really sorry to have to call you on a false alarm, she made me call” I apologized. “No, it was a smart thing to do, never take a chance.” Says officer Muldoon. “Yes sir, that’s what I figured.”

What was making the noise you ask? Don’t.