June Renew: Day Twenty-Four
The Clap of City and Country
New York City is no stranger to all sorts of noises. At any time of the day or night, you can hear the sounds of sirens piercing the airwaves. Horns honking. People talking, laughing, shrieking. Random loud bangings that I think are cargo trucks jumping their axels. Dogs barking. Whatever construction seems to keep happening in the apartment above me. It’s a veritable cacophony of sound, as there’s eight million stories to be told here. So it’s going to get loud once in a while.
This isn’t to say I don’t enjoy the quiet too. When I’m out in the Uplands or back in my hometown, I relish in the silence, the serenity, the knowing that even if I’m not used to the sounds of nature, I know I’m safe and nothing is out of the ordinary. But what happens when you hear a foreign sound, even in the place of comfort? Are you ready to face whatever caused it? And what happens when the real danger slips in unknowing and silent? Can you even prepare for the unexpected, or will you be drowned out in a sea of screams?
Crash Into Me
A few weeks ago, I was idling in my apartment, stoned, talking to myself, pretending I was doing a podcast interview where someone somehow cared about my opinion on current events. This isn’t entirely out of the ordinary, and I’m sure the cat is used to all my incessant noise pollution. But in the moment I actually shut up, I heard something completely out of the norm, something I honestly hope I never hear again.
It was a screech. It was tires squealing out on the road. It sounded like a woman’s blood-curdling scream. There was a beat of silence before a sickening, loud crunch followed. My first instinct was “car accident,” but I didn’t anticipate how close. I put on proper clothes and wandered outside, turning right to see a car at the corner of the intersection, with people gathering around to see what had happened. It had slammed into the corner pizza shop, which incredibly sustained no damage to the windows. An old woman with white hair was trying to get back in the car, but was unharmed. I turned left to see another car across the street that I later found was abandoned by whoever was driving it. I still don’t know what happened, my neighbors and I gathered around to try and figure it out, but there was one thing in common: we all heard it.
With all the city noise we’re used to, you never get used to the sound of an accident. It was a terrifying moment, all the more surreal knowing I had just walked that sidewalk hours prior. The police and fire department showed up no more than five minutes later (they don’t call them NY’s Finest or NY’s Bravest for nothing), and were able to clear the scene. The woman driving wasn’t hurt, but I did hear someone had to be taken to the hospital. I don’t know what ultimately happened to them. I just hope to never see or hear something like that ever again.
Suffer in Silence
I’m very lucky here in my apartment. I’m so closed in that I don’t hear the sidewalk noise from outside my window. For the most part, it’s quiet. Right now the only thing I can hear is the tower fan I bought because it’s just too dang hot out there. But even with serenity there can be something sinister lurking.
On December 7th, 2020 (I checked my notes), I was in between sleep and waking on the couch after a long day at work, when all my power went out. My computer turned off, the YouTube video I was nodding off to suddenly stopping. New York’s power grid is actually pretty competent around here, I never lost power during Hurricane Sandy, so seeing everything go off was eerie to say the least. I got off the couch, feeling like I couldn’t hear anything. It was just deathly silent. Everything in my apartment was off. That ringing ear noise started entering my psyche as I took slow, careful steps into the kitchen, not sure what to do but thinking I could do anything to solve it. Then, all the lights came back on and everything was normal again.
It felt like a “reset” button had been pushed somewhere. I’ll never forget the moment. Because it was the first time silence unsettled me. I’ve been to the desert in Arizona where all I could hear was the crunch of sand underneath my boot. Nothing like this. I guess there’s no safe space to be sometimes. Dangerous noises or lack there of have the ability to unnerve no matter what. If we truly hear what we want to hear, I hope whatever aurally stimulates you next is the best news you’ve ever heard.