Little LIGHT Lie

CAPTION: "Sleep Tight my earth bound friend. Would you like the lights ON or OFF?" 

 

You can always tell when producers are planning sequels to their blockbuster movies.  There is always some little detail following the climax left dangling. That's the way its going to appear with this story? But don't get your hopes up.

For this little tale to have a sequel there would have to be NEW information. And to be honest with you, that's  not something I'm looking forward to. Why? Well let's just see how this all finally plays out in:

 

   LET THERE BE LIGHT, OR NOT

                                    Part six

 

                       [Probably the Final Chapter]

 

         Even in my rattled state of mind it doesn’t make any sense that anyone, including me, would bypass a light switch to have the bedroom light on ALL THE TIME.

        

      “If that’s the case, why didn’t the lights pop on a long time ago.”

 

 I fear what he’ll say next. I am worried it will be something like, “your whole house will need to be rewired, and it’ll cost you a million bucks.”

Instead? Head swiveling uncontrollably he mutters, “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Despite my high level of CURRENT insecurity I bravely ask the question, “Are you SURE that’s the problem?”

“I wish I wasn’t sure. You were getting current right from the box with no loop to the switch. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve rewired it. Go ahead and try the switch.”

You bet I’ll try the switch. There is no way I’m going to believe this without trying it out. Sure enough the switch has taken over control of the ceiling light. I gratefully pay “Boy Electrician’s” fee plus a little “tip” for a promise not to let my wife become aware of his diagnosis.

We agree she should only know that it is fixed. That should take care of any critical interest she’ll have in the whole affair. Only boy electrician and me will spend the rest of our lives wondering who snuck into the attic, in the middle of  the night, and rewired the fixture as we slept.

         Life has pretty much returned to normal, whatever that is. We’ve now seen “Wait Until Dark,” the movie. My wife still hasn’t seen the end of the drama. I try not to think about the light switch, but every Friday night it takes me about an hour to get to sleep. And since that night, I’ve had a growing tendency to remember Friday night dreams.

         There are times I resent not telling the whole story to my wife. Why should I have to suffer alone in silence? But then I get heroically martyr like, and decide she must never be burdened by the truth. Truth? Every once in a while I call “Boy Electrician,” who has long sense become a man and fully licensed. I call him and say, “well COULDN’T it have been…………?”

         It’s always the same answer.

         “NO!”

I’ve decided in my own imagination that the previous owner of the house had been an electrician who dies a VIOLENT death. His spirit lives in the walls where he occasionally moves some wires around. That’s one I haven’t presented to “Boy,” but I’m thinking with his first hand experience, he may have a similar theory. I don’t think he sleeps well on Friday nights either.

There are, of course, means of checking out the history of such imagination.

But why would someone want to do such a thing?

For the record?

                

                   THE END