The Cold Snow Drips
I am going to mess with you, but I promise that it won’t be anything too crazy.
In order to hear the sound everything else must be quiet; no music; no social media; no television.
There is a constant rhythm as the water flows down the gutter. Occasionally there is a big splash that reinforces the constant pressure. Wah! Wah! Wah! A flock of geese cries out, perhaps a goose is calling for it’s mother. There is a banging of a hammer in the distance, but only once. The cars are passing on the avenue. If they are smart, they are being careful to avoid the speed camera trap that was just installed. There is a beeping of the dishwasher, perhaps it is nonna’s washing machine. My next door neighbor pulls out his keys, frightening a squirrel that was crossing the street. He turns on the big car with the keys, before even opening the door. He opens the door and jams out to heavy metal, something I would imagine was in some of the first video games from the 1980s to defeat the last level.
The hum of an airplane comes over head. Then another flying from a different direction.
The blonde mail woman, who I have never seen before, comes charging down the street in her muddy snow boots, having a full blown conversation about boys with what sounded like her best friend. There are more sounds of drivers burning rubber, but this time it is from the boulevard. Crack! I think it is a window being opened, but it is just snow moving on the roof. Then a patch of snow falls off of the garage. Another loud engine roars. The blonde mail woman comes and back and pulls the postal truck into the driveway.
I guess she has more mail, or maybe she just wanted to get a better look at me from the window (don’t worry I make myself cringe sometimes too.)
The steady rhythm of the water continues down the gutter. A dog barks far in the distance- nothing too out of control, as it seems. A large breath of air fills my lungs causing a nasty burp. There’s a sound of an alarm like there is a break, but it is far off in the distance. Another airplane is overhead. Sirens of an ambulance are coming from the boulevard. My phone vibrates. The rain continues dripping steadily. It’s a useless notification. A group of men seem to be playing a competitive game in the distance. I would like to think they are playing a sport outside, but it is cold so it must be a video game. There’s a still hum in the air, but I don’t see any airplanes. There’s a constant pecking sound like there is a woodpecker nearby. A manly figure appears in a large worker’s coat with the hood up, carrying a bag in his arms. He reaches into the mailbox (careful not to make eye contact with me) and starts walking to the side of the house. Then he stops, as if deciding he has forgotten something, and walks toward the front house. For a moment I thought he was avoiding me, until he returns with a package held into the crook of his arm, while his girlfriend yells and complain in his ear. He side-steps the the flow of water down the gutter makes it safely into the door. Another sounds goes off in the air. It is a black helicopter. Then another sounds goes off in the air, which for a fleeting moment, feels directly on top of me, but then it lingers off into the distance. The sound of steady water falling from the gutter continues. There are aggressive stomps coming from the living room. Then the bathroom door slams.
An ominous noise is in the sky, followed by exchanges from the birds. It is definitely a male looking to mate, but he sounds thirsty. He sent out four, five, six calls and didn’t receive a response. He doesn’t stop calling, but now he is doing them with less time in between. Wait someone might have responded. He is quiet. Loud stomps return in the living room. Loud music is coming from the avenue- something that sounds punk rock like Good Charlotte or Linkin Park, but I can’t tell which. The vacuum is going on in the living room.
There’s a techno mix to a song. It sounds like a concert, but that’s not possible. I thought it was a car but maybe it was a house party. The vacuum comes to a complete halt. The music still plays. Now it is a girl’s voice. Then the music stops. The steady flow of the water is still flowing down the gutter. A light switch goes off, then the door slams. A big sigh is taken and then back to work. Sounds of an airplane increase in sound as it approaches closer. But, I don’t see anything. There’s another sound of sirens, but not from the ambulance. Now there is a siren sound and it is certainly an ambulance coming from the boulevard. Another plane is in the sky; not visible, yet increasing in sound.
A car slushes through the mud on the avenue. Classic music is playing. It sounds like someone’s grandfather stole the AUX cord. Ice is cracking on the roof. There’s another beat drop and the woman isn’t singing anymore. A car runs the engine on the boulevard. It doesn’t sound like a street race; it sounds more like the flirtation leading up to one. Then in the distance I hear the engine roar loudly.
A squirrel sneaks onto the driveway and hides underneath a car. Overhead is another sound of an airplane. Then an old car is turned on, judging by the length taken to start the ignition. Water drops off of the roof slowly.
A car beeps, telling the owner that the door is locked. The steady flow of water down the gutter slows down, almost to a halt. The water falling off of the roof has a faster rate now. Another house song is being played. It sounds like a party of one. A blue minivan pulls into the driveway, then backs out, and returns in the direction she came from. My phone gets a call. The sound of the rain from the gutter returns. Another increasing sound from above, but no airplane in sight. A small bird squeaks, as if not to be detected. A large truck comes to a halt. The engine shuts, the door slams, and then there is a cough. Something is slammed, maybe like the top of a garbage can. There is the sound of a police siren coming from the boulevard. There seems to be a chase. Now the sound of an ambulance. Birds are chirping in a low manner amongst each other. The sirens grow closer. The loud truck is turned on. It’s a UPS truck that pulls in my driveway and does a three point turn and then reverses it. He opens the neighbor’s mailbox and walks it in, turns the truck back on, and drives off.
Another sound of an airplane is overheard, but no evidence. There sounds like muffled radio chatter. A whistle is blown, it sounds like the noise played in Yankee Stadium after an out is recorded. The door swings open. “Ow,” a voice cries.
“When did it snow?” a stranger asks, sounding like a swamp creature emerging from hibernation.
“It snowed last night,” nonna said.
The unlock button was pressed on the car keys.
“Can you pull along to the side?” nonna asks.
Another car is turned on with snow covering the window. The trunk is popped open and then slammed shut.
“I’ll get there,” the stranger said. “Mom, I will do it.”
“You gotta go that way. Look, otherwise it will be all over the sidewalk,” nonna said, sounding agitated.
The door slams shut. The engine runs. The sound of water from the gutter can’t be heard. A plane engine roars from above, then fades off into the distance. One car backs out slowly, as if the driver is very careful not to wake the sleeping baby in the back seat. Then, nonna backs out steadily, but not as deliberate. The other car replaces the spot. The stranger gets out and into-
“Shut my trunk!” nonna yelled.
The passenger window is raised and then the car leaves the lot.
