Scary nights alone

My husband is an avid bird hunter and 29 years ago I made the mistake of marrying him on opening day of hunting season. Duh. He hasn't been home for an anniversary since.

He meets up with his buddies at a camp north of Greenville at least four days of every week in October, and I generally don't mind. I like not having to plan meals and all the other fun stuff that comes along with a few days of solitude. I have told him in the past that weird things happen when he goes away, but I think he thinks I'm making up the cars that park in front of the house at weird hours (we live on a very rural road), the noises the house makes, the strange noises I hear outside and so on, but I'm really not. He can be here 363 nights of the year and nothing strange happens, but the two nights he's away, strange and scary things happen that scare the crap out of me. Take last Saturday night, for instance.

I know better than to go to bed early when I'm here alone. I am just giving extra time to my imagination by laying in bed, so I stay up until my eyes barely stay open. It was after 11 pm and I only had my desk lamp on by my computer as I was finishing up something I was writing. I had decided that I was indeed ready for bed as soon as I saved my work. Suddenly, three knuckled raps on the side door. I thought I must be imagining that, but my mind quickly ran through locking all the doors when it got dark. I decided that surely someone wouldn't be knocking on my door at this hour, and had almost convinced myself when three more raps came. My mind is racing. They way our house is set up I knew they couldn't see me from where I sat but if I got up I would be seen. Wishing I had the handgun beside me, I stood up and went to the side door, which is a solid door with a oval faux-stained glass insert. I didn't turn on a light, inside or out, and worked up my growliest voice.

"What do you want?" I growled wishing I had either a gun or a big dog at my side.

"We're lost hunters.  We can't find our truck. Are there any dirt roads around here?" They asked. Great, now I know they're armed.

I growled where the two dirt roads were on either side of my house.

"Thanks." the voice said after a few moments of the two or three of them talking quietly. Their boots were loud going down the wooden porch steps--how had I not heard them arriving? And it sounded like at least three people.

My heart is racing at this point, and I quickly decided to go get my handgun. Whenever my husband goes away I leave the car in the yard instead of parking it in the garage and I put the keys on my nightstand. If, in the night, I need to set off an alarm, I simply hit the alarm button for the car, which alerts my neighbor to call the police.  I grabbed the keys, turned out the lights and went to bed. Not to sleep, however.

I tucked the gun under my husband's pillow and read for a long time, listening to the house. Listening for any unusual noise outside. Of course, the refrigerator chose tonight to make some weird noises that sounded like low voices, and the pellet stove came on a few times, which reverberates through the house. It was a long night. I was glad when dawn came so I could get some sleep.

So hubby left this morning for three days. The doors are all locked, the handgun is within reach and the shotgun is loaded and is beside the bed.  Anyone want to come see me tonight? I hope not.