Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Louie, Louie or, Things that Go Crash! Bang! Boom! in the Night

Last night was the third night in a row that I have been awakened at (or after) midnight by the sound of our building shaking. Since an action movie is being filmed in our neighborhood, I assumed that this was only part of the action, albeit a very LOUD part. (I didn't think those Hollywood explosions would actually shake buildings blocks away!) But there was definitely something different about the crashing sounds last night. For one thing, they had a sort of "footfall" pattern, as if someone were actually walking on the roof above our heads. (Our little cubicles are on the top floor. And there's a skylight.) Then there was the dull thud of something very heavy falling down, causing debris to clatter on the ceiling tiles in my room.
This was no movie.
I peeked out of my room and saw Sr. Helena tromping down the hall to call 911. Sr Margaret Michael (national vocation director, still here from the discernment retreat) peeked out of her cubicle, too. Satisfied that Chicago's Finest would take to the fire escape and save the day (or the night), we closed our doors and went back to... well, not sleep, that's for sure. (I tried, but... So I prayed for the truly unwelcome visitor, whom by this time I had named Louie in honor of today's saint.) At 3:00 the crashing started again, more vigorously than ever. No more peeking out of rooms. Before long, all five of us were in the hall, and Sr. Helena was again trying to explain to the 911 operator that someone, probably a homeless person, was really on our roof, and that we were really worried about the skylight situation, and no we were NOT going to go up on the fire escape to see for ourselves and describe the person. (By this point, the lights were on.)  Eventually, a police officer did come, and Sr. Helena followed him up the fire escape. They didn't find Louie, but they did see that he had been in the elevator shaft area (unlocked!). The policeman locked the access door and gave a few after the fact sort of recommendations, and we were back to our cubicles for what remained of the "night." And I felt a twinge of pity for poor Louie who will probably make his way back to our roof, and find perhaps that some of his belongings have been locked away (until we can find a key to that room; that's why it wasn't locked).  Needless to say, we all slept in today!


Bego said...

Poor Louie. And poor Sisters. Except for Sr. Helena, who strikes me as rather spunky and a lover of adventure! She was directing traffic, after all!

I hope y'all have a restful and uneventful night tonight!

Anonymous said...

Poor Louie indeed. What you really need is some BIG rat traps and a very good memory of where you have placed them. Are you sure that Louie is a human being?
Sr. Helena is fearless save for the cooing of vengeful mourning doves. She much prefers frogs.
I do have the correct Sr. Helena, don't I.

Anonymous said...

The story of Sr. Helena conjures up in my mind the story of the Pied Piper, with the exception that the lemmings were being led into danger rather than sisters being rescued from the unknown "Louie"

Random O.C. Christian said...

What on earth was he doing? Why the banging? Was it him getting out of the elevator shaft? I can see how that would spook you all. Maybe ya'll should get a mastiff.

Anonymous said...

Good thinking, one problem though. A Mastiff is a very large animal which is a plus, but who will potty train it on Michigan
avenue? Any volunteers?

Sr Anne said...

Louie was back again last night (er, this morning), tromping all over the roof above me. Then this morning there were construction-type sounds: drilling, hammering, and a huge kaboom as something very heavy landed...on our roof (squishing our imaginary mastiff into a canine pancake).
We're theorizing that Louie may be one of the workmen from the building next door, coming at night to pilfer supplies????

Sr Anne said...

REALLY bad news about Louie. He's not a homeless nut job. He's been methodically ripping the flashing off our our roof all week, presumably to sell as scrap metal. There were no workers on the building next door. The drill, the hammer, the banging: all Louie. And he fully exposed the wood (this is an old building) and brick above my office to the elements.
At least now when we call 911, we can tell them that it's theft in progress.

Anonymous said...

Whoever Louie is, he was given a guardian angel who has a heavy load to bear. But you Sisters combined have five of them. Sleep in peace.