The Witching Hour

The fact that you showed up at 3am didn’t surprise me at all. What better time to show up and catch someone off guard than early in the morning when most are tucked away sleeping? I remember when I lived with you and you’d pull us out of bed to go get ice cream at midnight or to go get a sandwich from a 24 hour deli. Time meant nothing to you so waking us at midnight was okay.

I always knew if we made it past 3am we’d be okay. You seemed to really get crazy around that time. I never knew why that particular hour. Not until today did I hear of these hours (between midnight and 3am) referred to as “the witching hour”. I find it strange those particular hours are called that, especially since those are your most abusive hours. (Correction ….I meant to say those were your most abusive hours. You can’t hurt me anymore. Past tense is the correct tense when speaking of you.)

When I was young I’d hold my breath hoping you didn’t come drag me or my sister out of bed or wake us up with a dowel rod to the back. Maybe you preferred my sister that night and I’d be left alone to hear her weep and beg. I don’t know, I never knew what would happen unless of course I heard you signal the all clear with the song “Go Down Moses.” The sound of you singing meant we could sleep safely. I really hate the song.

I wonder just how much of this was planned, the witching hour and songs of delivered slaves sung to your own captives desperate for an escape. Did you think this through or is this coincidence? Either way, I always knew midnight was the time to get antsy and three am was the time to fear. Even now when midnight rolls around I get nervous. When it’s 3am I feel I’ll lose my mind. As long as I’m in bed before that time I’m in less agony but if I’m up even close to then I shake inside and I can’t let myself lay down until 6am. I think 6am is the most peaceful time ever. Until that time my eye is on the clock every few minutes.

So, here we are at 1am and I’m a tad bit on the nervous side. I keep seeing this picture of you hanging from my awning. It’s almost as if you never left Christmas Eve, like you never turned and walked from my yard. I’m sure it doesn’t surprise you that you linger in my thoughts this way. And it won’t surprise me when you stick to your routine and show up three years from now at midnight. This time it was 3am and in three years it’ll be midnight. You are not only insane but predictable.

Until today I’d never heard of the witching hour. I may not have heard of it but I’ve felt it for what seems like forever.

See ya later, much, much later.

Sincerly,

The Witching Hour – Friday, January 09, 2009-12:37AM EST