This morning I woke up with a start. Bleary eyed and wondering what time it was since I, once again, fell asleep with the light on. Half an hour more of sleep but the bathroom was screaming at me so I attended to that and then turned off my light. A few moments later, after zipping myself safe and sound into my bug hut, I heard a raspy whisper of my name.

I sat up with a start but didn’t panic too much, assuming this is just my mind playing tricks on me. I waited. And there it was again, clinging to the underbelly of a rooster letting a cacoadoodle doo rip. And then again…and again. So I unzipped and turned on my light.

My name persisted. Raspy and low and close to my window.

It was 6am. I didn’t sleep again.

I listened for half an hour and then when I could stand it no longer I crept into the living room…trailing lights as I left. There I could hear the roosters without the melody of my name. and there I sat, as light crept over the horizon on arthritic legs.

Back in my room 10 minutes later, and my ears strained hoping to NOT hear anything. But sure enough, there it was clear as day was trying to be. And so I stood immobile in the hallway that connects the bedrooms willing BushDiva or our guest to be awake to see if they heard what I heard. But when BD woke up a few minutes later, she hurried past me before I could comment. And then it was gone.

As the day brightened the voice faded. I walked outside to examine my windows – to look for footprints or maybe someone playing a practical joke…who knows what I was looking for. Whatever it was I was looking for, whatever might have been there, wasn’t when i searched. The only proof of its presence is my nagging sleepiness left over from my early morning rise.

Of course later, in the gray cool of the day, BushDiva and I compared notes. She smelled smoke wafting into her window in the dark hours of the morning, maybe the same time that I heard my name. she also remembered during one of the nights when we first arrived she heard her name as well. She chocked it up to mefloquine because no one here says her name (or mine for that matter) correctly. That is the most logical and compelling argument against what I heard.

So I’ll blame it on the mef…even so, I still feel uneasy…and this morning, assured that it was my imagination, I heard it again. My fellow volunteer heard no such thing…so yeah…I’m blaming it on the mef.

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1 Comment on my name

  1. Kyla says:

    I hope it was the mef, but it’s just as likely some idiot trying to get your attention. I’d check it out and maybe even let the security people know there’s someone there bothering you.

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