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The Tell-Tale Chirp - A Halloween Poasting (Part One)

True! — retarded — very, very dreadfully retarded I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses — not destroyed — not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily — how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

It is impossible to say how first the chirp entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me day and night. Drank there was none. Reparations there was none. I loved the ceiling disc. He had never wronged me. He had never given me insult. For his batteries I had no desire. I think it was his light! yes, it was this! One of his lights resembled the eye of a vulture — a pale red eye, with a film over it. Whenever it fell upon me, my blood ran cold; and so by degrees — very gradually — I made up my mind to take the life of the disc for its Whiteness, and thus rid myself of the eye forever.

Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing of retardation. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded — with what caution — with what foresight — with what dissimulation I went to work! I was never kinder to the ceiling disc than during the whole week before I killed him. And every night, about midnight, I turned the latch of my bedroom door and opened it — oh, so gently! And then, when I had made an opening sufficient for my head, I put in the wrong battery, closed its compartment tight, all closed, closed, so that no light shone out, and then I thrust in my head. Oh, you would have laughed to see how cunningly I thrust it in! I moved it slowly — very, very slowly, so that I might not disturb the old White disc's sleep. It took me an hour to place my 9 volt's head within the opening so far that I could see it near the connector. Ha! — would a madman have been so wise as this? And then, when my head was well in the room, I undid the old battery cautiously — oh, so cautiously — cautiously (for the cover creaked) — I undid it just so much that a single thin volt fell upon the vulture eye, and it blinked red. And this I did for seven long nights — every night just at midnight — but I found the eye always closed until my battery touched the mysterious metal; and so it was impossible to do the work; for it was not the White disc who vexed me, but his Evil Eye. And every morning, when the day broke, I went boldly into the chamber, and spoke courageously to it, calling to it in a hearty tone, and inquiring how he had passed the night. So you see he would have been a very profound device, indeed, to suspect that every night, just at twelve, I looked in upon him while he slept and tried to discern the meaning of his battery.

Upon the eighth night I was more than usually cautious in opening the door. A watch’s minute hand moves more quickly than did mine. Never before that night had I felt the extent of my own powers — of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my feelings of triumph. To think that there I was, changing a battery, little by little, and he not even to dream of my secret deeds or thoughts. I fairly chuckled at the idea; and perhaps he heard me; for he chirped suddenly, as if startled. Now you may think that I drew back — but no. His room was as black as pitch with the thick darkness, (for the shutters were close fastened, through fear of other niggers,) and so I knew that he could not see the opening of the door, and I kept pushing it on steadily, steadily.

I had my head in, and was about to open the compartment, when my thumb slipped upon the plastic fastening, and the disc sprang to life, crying out — “CHIRP!”

I kept quite still and said nothing. For a whole hour I did not move a muscle, and in the meantime I did not hear him stop chirping. He was still sitting up on the ceiling watching; — just as I have done, night after night, hearkening to the death chirps in the wall.

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