A Scream in the Night.

When I first came to NYC I was absolutely certain that I'd be on the look-out for my life on a regular basis. I had heard endless stories about muggings and stabbings and all sorts of wonderful things. We've lived here for nearly six months now and I am surprised to say that I think it is the safest place I've ever called home. Which is why it was so shocking to be woken up at 12:30 a.m. to the sounds of a woman screaming absolute bloody murder. 

I had just begun to doze off when I heard what sounded like a dog or a small child screaming. It was quiet and far off at first. I strained my ears to determine if it was human or animal. It began to get louder and closer. The chiremlin's ears perked up and a low whine began in her throat. The screaming got louder and closer. About a minute had passed since I'd first noticed it - a constant, throbbing, high-pitched scream. 

Poompy sat up in bed and said, "What the fuck is that?" 

"I don't know. Is it a person?"
"I don't know. Where the fuck are my glasses?" We have filthy mouths.

I hand him his glasses but he's already out of bed. He's scrambling to put on his clothes. The screaming is much louder now. It sounds like it's coming from the courtyard below our apartment building. It's definitely human. A woman. Screaming. Not even stopping to breathe. Just screaming, endless screaming. A horrible, gut-wrenching, gurgling sound unlike anything I've ever heard before. I grab my cell phone. My hands are shaking. The dog is growling deep in her throat. I dial 9-1-1. The dispatcher answers.

"I think someone near my apartment building is being stabbed or something horrible - something horrible is happening - a woman has been screaming for about 2 1/2 minutes now. I don't know where she is - "

And suddenly the screams move. They are no longer coming from outside. They are coming from underneath me. They are in the hallway below my apartment.

"Oh my god! It's in my building!" I am too scared to try to stop the sob that is climbing out of my throat.

And then, before I can stop him, Poompy tears the phone out of my hand and he's out the door.

"DON'T GO OUT THERE!" I cry at him. But he's gone. He's in the hallway. Shirtless, shoeless, he's down the stairs. I throw on a robe and before I even tie it closed I'm in the hallway. I'm down the stairs. There's no way in hell I'm letting him go out there alone.

The screaming is moving down the hallway, it's on the first floor, it's out the front door. I can hear Poompy on the phone with the dispatcher, giving our address and cross-streets. Then he says, "I see her! She's... she's screaming and she's with a man, he's trying to quiet her down... no it looks like he's comforting her. I think... I think she's just drunk. The guy looks embarrassed - no, I don't know them. They're leaving. They're - they're walking away. They have their arms around each other and they're walking away. I think everything is OK."

And with that, the screaming fades away into the hot August night. And then, and only then, every door on the first floor opens and our neighbors poke their heads out and ask, "What's going on? Is everything OK? I was too scared to go out there, I thought someone was being murdered!" Our super comes up from out the basement shaking his head, it was just some friend of one of the guys who lives in the basement. She was drunk and threw a fit. It was nothing. Everything is fine. Go back to bed. Strange how a sound in the basement can seem to come from outdoors.

I checked my phone to see how long we were on with the 9-1-1 dispatcher. Nearly three minutes. I didn't call 9-1-1 until the screaming had gone on for nearly two minutes. That woman screamed like that for almost five minutes and we're supposed to believe that nothing was wrong? But she's gone now so what can we do?

Poompy and I go back upstairs and I immediately start in on him. I'm furious. 

"How could you have gone out there? What if someone was being stabbed? You could've gotten hurt! That was so stupid, how could you -" 

But he cuts me off with a look and the fire in his eyes tells me I had better shut up and he says, "If you were being attacked inside our apartment building and not a single person came out to help you -- yeah it's great if they sit in their apartment and call the police, the police would be there in minutes, but that's minutes more you'd be getting attacked without help -- if NO ONE tried to help you -" he's shaking his head and his eyes have filled with tears but he doesn't have to finish the sentence because I've already wrapped my arms around him. He's my hero. I tell him that. "You're my hero."

We crawl back into bed and I lay there thinking he's right. Not a single person in the entire building bothered to come out and see what was going on until they heard Poompy's voice in the hallway. Until they knew everything was OK. Poompy's the bravest man I know. And then I hear him chuckling to himself. 

"You're the bravest girl I know," he says, smiling.
"What?? ME? I begged you not to go out there! I was terrified!"
"Yeah, but you followed me out there. You ran out after me! If someone had been stabbing someone and they'd tried to hurt me, you'd have gladly jumped on their back and ripped out their eyeballs, wouldn't you?" He said it like he already knew the answer. It wasn't even a question.
"Well... yeah. I learned how to gouge out eyeballs in self-defense class in 8th grade. It's not like it's a big deal or anything." I'm grinning.
"It was stupid for me to go out there. I could've put you in danger."
"No way. You were right. If it was me in the hallway, if I was being attacked, I'd be forever grateful to the guy who was stupid enough to try and help me. You're a hero."
"You're my hero. You'd stop at nothing to protect me. You're like a lioness watching out for her cub."

"Does that make you my cub?" I'm really grinning now.

"I guess so. Lioness."

If I'm his lioness, he's my lion.

I love you, Lion. Forever and ever.