The Porch Swing
Creak. Squeak. Creak creak. Squeak squeak. That’s the sound of the porch swing. There’s no wind. There’s no one sitting in it. It just rocks a freakish lullaby all night long. I look out the window time and again to see nothing. Just the swing, slowly rocking back and forth. During the day, even when the wind picks up, the swing doesn’t rock. It’s only at night.
I sat in it once. My nerves went crazy. I got chills and started shaking. I never sat in it again. Not at night.
It’s been six months since I moved in. I still look anxiously out the window half the night. Last night when I looked, there was a little dog. Gazing up at the swing. Tail wagging. Perfectly happy. Just sitting there. Looking at the swing. Darndest thing.
This morning the dog was gone. Don’t know whose it could be. I don’t have neighbors for a half mile. Never seen it before.
I heard tell of a young woman who used to live here. Rocked her baby in the cold air at night because it was colicky. Helped it sleep. This is what the townsfolk chose to tell me when I complained about the creaky swing. Fuckers.
Story goes, the baby didn’t make it out of infancy. Caught a fever it couldn’t shake. The daddy left shortly after that. Couldn’t handle the loss I guess.
There’s been tenants here since then, though. I’m not the first. No one seems to know what happened to the lady. Or anyway, they ain’t willing to tell me.
Maybe I’ll get one of those new age white noise thingys. So I can’t hear that infernal creaking and squeaking. Wood creaking, metal squeaking. It’s damned unnerving.
I tried taking down the porch swing once already. When I did, I heard a baby crying all night long. Darndest thing. Figure it’s one of the neighbors, and that noisy swing actually blocks the sound. I lasted three days and put the swing back up. It’s a better noise than a baby crying anyway.
I oiled the hinges once too. Felt like creak creak creak is better than creak squeak squeak. Sat in the swing (it was daytime now I already said it’s too creepy at night), nary a squeak. That night though, creak squeak creak squeak.
Yeah, I think a noise machine is the way to go. Maybe I’ll get one with ocean sounds.
I do wonder what’s up with that dog though. Should I leave food for it? It looked well fed and groomed actually. Must’ve just wandered over. Strange that it didn’t bark at the swing. There is a dog door. It’s been locked for a while by the looks of it but maybe the dog used to live here, and then it was given to a neighbor or something.
Never thought I’d think this much about a porch swing. It’s strange though, innit?