The Night Owl's Warning

“Dave still doesn’t believe me about the night owl’s warning.” I stare at the ceiling of my shrink’s office.

She’s scribbles notes on her pad. I asked her once to show me the notes she’d written about me, but she refused. She said it wasn’t beneficial for me to see them while my treatment was still continuing. I wondered if she shared them with Dave. If that was how she convinced him that I still needed the sessions.

It had been his idea that I might benefit from speaking to someone. In his words I "had been overtly emotional' since my Grandma died.

I have now been having weekly sessions for close to a year. I don't really care. If he prefers to pay someone to listen to my thoughts instead of listening to me himself, that's fine with me.

“When did you last speak to him about the night owl?” She interrupts my thoughts.

I resented to idea of talking to a shrink at first, but now I'm used to it. And at least she lets me talk unlike John. I'm almost sorry that this is our last session together. Not that she knows it yet. I'll tell her when I leave.

“This morning.” I turn to look at my shrink, Dr Hollier. Or Dr Holier-Than-Thou, HTT for short, as I like to call her, but I’d never tell her that. I haven’t even shared my nickname for her with Dave.

She sits in her Eames chair, her legs crossed and chewing the tip of her pen, waiting for me to tell her more.

I oblige her unspoken command, “We talked about it this morning because I heard it again last night. He said I must have imagined or dreamt it.”

“And you disagree?”

“Of course I disagree. I know what I heard.” Rattled by her calmness and the undertone of siding with him, I push myself up onto my elbows and glare at her.

Unmoved, she motions me to lie back down again. Once again, I obey her. I close my eyes and continue, “He thinks it’s just an old wives’ tale. That’s what he says. But I know better.”

I knew it was a bad omen. My Grandma had told me so. She told me that if you heard the night owl hoot three times, someone you knew was going to die.

Four times she had heard it in her life and four people she loved had died. First her father, then her mother, and finally my parents.

“My Grandma told me she heard an owl hoot three times and then again three times two nights before my parents’ car accident.”

“But it could have been just a coincidence.” I knew Dr HTT would agree with Dave. They are both so pragmatic, so matter of fact.

I bite my lip. I don’t want to tell her anything more. It upsets me they both doubt my Grandma’s word. But I believe her.

She was the one who brought me up after my parents’ both died in the car accident. She taught me all her believes. Believes that Dave dismissed, and I knew Dr HTT would dismiss as well. That’s why I didn’t want to tell her anything more.

“And have you ever heard the owl before last night?”

“Yes, twice.” Damn, what happened to not telling her? Now, she’ll want to know more.

“And what happened on those occasions?”

On those occasions? I want to mock her for her pretentious use of words. So like Dave. No wonder Dave thinks the sun shines out of her backside and will continue to pay for my sessions as long as she tells him so.

“The first time, my uncle died.”

“Tell me more about your uncle.” I don’t need to see her to know her pen is poised. Ready to write down everything I say. “How did he die?”

“A heart attack.” I choose not to elaborate.

“And how was he feeling before that? Was he overweight? Did he exercise?”

I know what she's going with all her questions. She wants me to agree that it was a coincidence. I keep my mouth shut. Yes, my uncle was overweight, a smoker, and the only exercise he did was to move from the sofa to the dinner table, but I will not tell her that.

Besides, all of that won’t change the fact I heard the owl before he died. That is the point here and not how he died.

“And what about the second time?” Dr HTT asks when I don’t tell her anything more about my uncle. “Did someone die when you heard the night owl again?”

“Yes, my Grandma.” Damn, she’d tricked me into talking again. How did she do that?

“Your Grandma was very old when she died, wasn’t she?”

“She was, but that’s not the point here.”

“What do you see as the point then?”

I could scream at her. At her and her questions. Rip that notepad out of her hands and tear it to pieces. But I don’t.

I glance at the clock on the wall. It says 12:42. Good, I only have to endure 18 more minutes of this. Then I’m free to go.

“The point is that each time I hear the owl, somebody dies.” What was it about this simple fact Dave and she couldn’t get? That there was a clear connection between hearing the night owl and somebody dying.

“I see.”

What did she see? Nothing. Not yet. But she soon would. I have made sure both her and Dave would have to believe me this time.

“So who do you think will die this time?”

“Dave.” I sit up and look at her directly in the eyes. This time she doesn’t signal me to lie back down.

“I’m sure that Dave will be absolutely fine.”

“No, he won’t.” Now, I grin at her. I knew I would win this round.

“And how do you know?” I love the alarm on her face. How she stares at me like she is seeing me properly for the first time as I get up and walk to the door. Our session has come to an end. Fifteen minutes early, but that suits me.

“Because I put traces of peanuts in his breakfast this morning. You know how allergic he is to them.”

“You killed him?” I wish I could record her theatrical gasp.

“Yes, but you’ll have a hard time proving that. Goodbye, Dr Hollier, I won’t be seeing you again.”

I walk out, victorious. I have proved myself to them. They would not doubt me again.