We had an intruder in our house early Friday morning.
I don’t know if I can adequately describe the fear that pulsated through my body about 2:40am Friday morning when I was startled awake by what sounded like someone moving around on one of kitchen barstools. You’ve heard the expression “paralyzed by fear”. Well, I am literally paralyzed, and when fear overtook me, my heart felt like it was going to race right out of my chest. My breathing seemed like I was running a marathon. I physically cannot scream or shake Daryl awake or defend myself. I was trapped inside this useless body unable to do anything but panic inside.
So many thoughts raced through my mind in a few short seconds. Would 911 come if I called them but couldn’t say anything? Does our area have 911 texting services? Maybe I had time to post a request for help on Facebook? Did Daryl get up and is doing something in the kitchen? Could it be William coming home early for the weekend? Is my mind playing tricks on me like it has done before in the middle of the night?
My mind had kicked into overdrive, and I gradually realized that I was not hearing anything now. So, I concentrated on calming my brain and heart while I zoned in any noise I did or did not hear. Daryl was sleeping soundly with a light snore whistling. The three fans we have going made their steady hums. No dogs barking, doors opening or closing, no footsteps, no rattling barstools.
I decided that I must have imagined hearing a noise in the kitchen. But, just to be safe, I went ahead and typed “Daryl I hear something in the kitchen” on my computer. Even though I had calmed down, I wanted to be prepared just in case.
Ten minutes later, after sitting in the dark hearing only the soothing sounds coming from Daryl and the fans, I begin to drift back to sleep. As the clutches of dreamland grabs hold, I hear the rattling of a barstool. This time, I knew it was real. With my heart and breathing racing I have the computer say, “Daryl I hear something in the kitchen.” I repeat it again, and Daryl jumps (yes, jumps) out of bed and dashes to grab his gun. Without hesitation, he heads to down the hallway racking bullets into the chamber and yelling, “You better run.”
I lay helpless in my bed straining to hear what is happening. Nothing. Total silence. What seemed like an eternity was probably only one scary minute before Daryl comes back to the bedroom. He said all the doors were closed and locked. Nothing was out of place. He wanted to know what noise I heard, and I am thinking, “Great, I really am losing my mind.” After I explain that I heard what sounded like someone moving around in a barstool, he said that was exactly what he heard too. Relief flooded over me. I wasn’t crazy! But what caused the noise?
As we are talking and discussing what it could have been, we hear the same noise but fainter like it is outside the house. Daryl jumps into action again. He turns on the cameras for me to see outside while he proceeds to check our porches with his flashlight and gun. On the cameras, I see him patrolling, bugs flying, and dogs casually crossing the yard. Nothing unusual or out of place.
By this time, a panic induced asthma episode has started. When Daryl comes back in, he starts me a breathing treatment, and we spend the next 20 minutes watching cameras, contemplating what could have caused the mysterious noise, and listening for anything out of the ordinary. Again nothing. The noise had stopped.
We both are exhausted and decide to go back to sleep. Before crawling into bed, Daryl uses the restroom where he discovers we have no water. Not even a dribble will come out of the faucets. What in the world!
So, at about 4:15am, Daryl throws on jeans, shoes, and a jacket and grabs his gun and flashlight once again. This time, he is headed out to our well house, but instead of looking for an intruder, he is watching for snakes.
When he comes back inside, the news is not good. Our 350-gallon tank is completely dry, the belt on the well motor has snapped, and nothing is working. We have discovered our intruder. . . pipes rattling as water drains out back to the well.
I would like to say there was some comfort in knowing that no one broke into our home, but at the moment, we were both thinking about how much money this intruder would cost us. If you live in the country, you know wells can be several thousands of dollars to repair or replace. Money we don’t have to spare.
My hero husband tackled the job like he does with everything. Failure is not an option, and he would get it taken care of. By 8:00am, he had purchased enough water to last a couple of days and had gotten to work. Thankfully, our friend Chris and our nephew Matt were able to rearrange their day to help him. William did come home and helped out a little too. By 5:00pm Friday, our well was back to pumping crystal clear water.
I won’t even attempt to explain what they did to fix the well. It is definitely outside of my understanding. However, I will say that God graced us with waking up because of the noise. Otherwise, more damage could have been done. God graced me with a take charge husband who doesn’t hesitate to put himself between me and an intruder. God graced us with friends and family who will do anything to help Daryl and me.
What could have cost thousands ended up costing a long day of work for the three guys, several trips for supplies, and less than $200. What I gained from it was a reinforced sense of pride in my husband, an appreciation for others, and a renewed faith that God takes care of all.