The Madhouse Conundrum

“A home should encompass peace and solace — a safe haven from life’s drama. Anything contrary is a menace to one’s well-being and quiet enjoyment.”

Photo by Aarón Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash

MY new apartment had it’s attendant benefits. It was less than an hour drive to work depending on the traffic situation, which was a win for me. Also, the building was new. When I moved in, there were only two neighbours in the edifice. A travelling agent who was barely available and a middle-aged couple with their teenage son and maid.

The compound was large and encompassed a garden, a security house, and ample parking space. It was a far cry from my former clustered apartment. I congratulated myself for moving up in the world. I began to nurture thoughts of marriage and kids. Until the problems began.

Three days after moving day, I awoke by 2.a.m. to loud sounds emanating from the middle-aged couple’s house on the ground floor. As the minutes dispersed, it grew louder, but I felt it was rude to knock on a neighbour’s door after midnight, and deemed it best to confront them in the morning. I pulled a pillow over my face and attempted a return to dreamland.

In the morning, I approached the security guard to inquire about the late night sounds.

“It’s the couple that moved into the flat downstairs. Maybe they left the TV on.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Let’s give them the benefit of doubt.”

I refrained from knocking on their door and disappeared to work. It was a long workday, and when I returned home, all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. But the neighbours had other plans. At exactly 2 a.m., the noise began, worse than the previous night’s commotion. I was tired and grumpy, but I managed to roll out of bed and posthaste downstairs to the security house. The guard was outside, his gaze affixed to my neighbour’s house.

I addressed him. “Please, what is going on in that house? Don’t they have a conscience?”

“Let me go and check.” The guard briskly walked over to their apartment and knocked on the door as I shadowed him.

On the third knock, someone appeared, a slender elderly man wearing a night robe, brandishing a polite grin on his face.

“I am so sorry for the noise.” He preemptively apologised. “I still do not understand how to operate the sound system. I sincerely apologise.”

The guard nodded. “Well sir, it’s late, and your neighbours are trying to rest. Maybe, until you understand how to operate the system, switch it off at night.”

“I am so sorry. I would put it off now. Thanks for understanding.” The elder waved at me, and I forced a tired smile.

I returned to my room as the sound terminated and attempted a slumber, but it wasn’t longlasting. Morning arrived fast. The workday was wearisome. I hadn’t rested for two days, but as it was a Friday, there was ample time to sleep through the weekend.

I returned home by 10 p.m. and decided to catch up on a TV show about dragons and politics, but unexpectedly, I fell asleep on the couch. I had barely slept an hour when the noise started. It was the familiar thunderous and tumultuous sound, but I could have sworn that there were loud cries — wails of a person — amidst the sounds.

Disgruntled, I raced downstairs, ready to cause mayhem in retaliation for the nuisance. I pranced to the neighbour’s abode and began to pound on the door.

“Reduce the volume of your music!!”

But the more I knocked and shouted, the more the decibels within the house subverted my actions. So, in a brazen act of ungentlemanly defiance, I pulled the door knob. The door flung open, revealing a dark, empty living room, save a glimmer of light emanating from the passageway.

I had hoped the occupants of the house would be in the living room, so I would criticize their behaviour and leave. Heading to their bedroom was not within the scope of my outrage. I decided to back down, but as I turned to leave, a hand grabbed my left wrist from behind. I pivoted to face my slender elderly neighbour. In the darkness, I could perceive his anxiety and desperation.

“You need to come with me.” He whispered and pulled me forward towards the light.

Intrigued, I followed him across the passageway to the last room on the floor. Adjacent the door was a large home theatre system, blasting an instrumental sound into my eardrums. He exhaled and shrugged before twisting the doorknob.

I was dumbfounded by the view. On the large bed was the elder’s corpulent wife, clad in a night dress, erratically vacillating around the bed, screaming and pulling on her hair. Around her was the maid and the couple’s son, both trying to control her sporadic movements.

“Help me hold her down! We need to tie her so she doesn’t hurt herself.”

Without thought or hesitation, I rushed to the maid’s side while the elder assisted his son. The woman kept shoving them away until I grabbed her left arm and pinned it to the bed as the maid prepared the knot. She screamed and kicked, but we managed to entrap her wrist in the noose. She reacted by shoving the elder and his son against the wall, and with her freed right hand, she slapped the maid, who staggered and crashed into a dressing mirror.

“Relax madam!” I shouted.

The lady paused for a fleeting second, smirked, laughed, and spat in my face.

I squirmed. “What the — ”

“Hold her!” The elder yelled. He rushed to his wife’s side and held onto her arm. “We have to finish what we started.”

The woman laughed as she watched me grimace. Then she sunk her canines into her husband’s hand. He yelped and loosened his grip, backing away as I shoved her face away from his arm.

“What is going on here?!” I yelled at the elder, who was examining the red bite marks on his limb. “What is wrong with her?”

He moaned. “As you can see, she is mentally challenged.”

“No kidding! Hold her down! All of you ‘cos if she bites me, I’m calling the police.”

The family regrouped. The maid held on to her left hand, I and the elder pinned her frame to the bed as their son began fastening the knot to her right arm. She screamed, kicked, spat, but it was to no avail. The knot clasped, and she was hooked.

I withdrew and heaved a sigh, but they weren’t done. They kept holding on to her as the elder pulled out a syringe from a first aid box and began prepping to inject her arm.

“What’s that?” I inquired.

“A sedative. To help her sleep.”

He gestured for the others to hold her firm. They complied, but she kept pulling away, twisting, and kicking. She was formidable.

“I am sorry about this, sir. And you too, madam.” Then reflexively, I pounced on top of the woman. I straddled her tummy with my knees astride while my hands grasped her arms in position.

Everyone was stupefied, including the woman. She became quiet, steady, and submissive, opening a window of opportunity for the elder to insert the injector.

“All done.” He said and removed the syringe.

I jumped off the bed, cleaned my face, and addressed the elder— “We need to talk, sir.”

As his wife began to faint, the elder led me across the passageway to the front door. He opened the door to reveal the guard, standing outside with utter chagrin.

“I have been knocking.” He snarled. “What is going on? Is everything alright in there?”

I feigned a smile. “Don’t worry. It’s a bad sound system. It will be fixed by tomorrow. Right, sir?”

“Yes.” The neighbour corrobated. “Ofcourse. I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.”

The guard momentarily scrutinized our countenance, smirked, and sauntered away.

“Thanks for that.” The man said as the guard left hearing distance. “You didn’t have to— ”

“What was that in there? Tying your wife to a bed and using your son as an accomplice? Why is she not in a mental facility?”

“She has been there for over two years, but she is not recuperating.” The elder’s eyes were teary. “Her medical bills have become astronomical, especially now that my son is in college, and with the economic downturn, I have no idea what to do anymore. These days, she is healthy at daytime but after dark, she becomes hysterical. I am so confused.”

“So, that’s why you play the loud sounds?” I sighed. “Your action would be sensible if you had your own house, but this is a lease. How long can you continue the ruse before everyone discovers the truth?”

The elder became pensive. A tear rolled down his cheek, watering my empathy.

“You need to find a better solution. You can not solve a problem by managing it. Think of your kid and how this is affecting him mentally. You need to get her out of this house. She wouldn’t recover here. With her behaviour, she can cause severe damage. She almost bit off your arm, and your maid could have been seriously injured.”

He nodded. “I know. I shall do my best.”

“So please, no more loud music?”

He shrugged. “Ummmm. Maybe one to two weeks until I get my affairs in order.”

I tried to hide my ire, but my face muscles tightened, and I hissed. “Will I ever be able to sleep in this house?”