Maybe the late night/early morning sleep routine was cause for deep reflection. Surely, the news, saturated and sopping with terrorist alerts and warnings didn't help. Being an overactive thinker just added a cherry on top of this peculiar mental sundae.
In the pre-dawn hours, of literal time and of 9/11, a mind will run with irrational thoughts. Thoughts like: Is that really a cricket chirping in my bathroom or is it the mechanical chirping of some kind of detonator getting ready to blow my house to Kingdom Come? Did the panther I saw last week snoop around my house in the murky darkness? Could it get into the house by coming under my bathtub?
The last thought to stagger through my over-achieving mental faculties before I gave up and got up? Was that truck really lost yesterday as it sat at the top of our cul-de-sac or was it waiting for other terrorist so that it could blow our little town off the map? And was that thought so irrational?
It was a large truck, but not an 18-wheeler. It was an old refrigerated truck. I remember this because my husband and I sat on our porch when it turned in. "Did Chuck get a new truck?" Then, "No. That's not a new truck." And Chuck wouldn't be caught driving something like that. He had a nice, new truck. And he was out on a run. So who was this? What were they waiting for?
Still, none of this was given much thought until the wee hours of morning when my mind suddenly leaped to life, connecting the dots. Hmmm...terrorist warnings by vehicles. Strange, old refrigerated truck setting at the top of a drive, waiting. White driver, foreign-looking passenger (did he look middle-eastern?).
I had to leave while the truck still sat there. Zumba called. As my friend and I pulled out, it appeared the passenger was motioning us to stop. We pulled up beside them. "Hey, whatcha need?" I figured they were wanting directions to something. He looked at me funny, then replied "Oh, nothing." He was waving us around, not stopping us. We went on and I never thought of it again...until the inky black hours before sunrise.
Should I call the sheriff and tell them I have a cricket/detonator chirping in my bathroom and that an ancient refrigerated truck that stopped at our driveway yesterday was working the detonating device? Perhaps that panther was also part of the plot, trained to come in under bathtubs, sneak around the house and plant teeny-tiny web cams so that terrorist can watch our news cast on my TV and one-up all the American intelligence.
Should I text a close friend who is a cop, tell him my suspicions and have him call a sheriff to come out here? After all, those guys running the panther and cricket are surely setting out there in that truck, adjusting the refrigeration unit so they can pick up scanner calls from people huddled in their beds calling cops, right?
Hmmm...If my thoughts are indicative of 'American intelligence', we are a country in big trouble! I'm going back to bed. After some sleep, a good cup of coffee, and sunrise, I have a feeling I will see things much differently.