Tapping on the Roof (a short story)

Instructions

Based on a Pinterest prompt  For round three of the Writer's Academy challenge  Warning for car crash, fire, major fear  . . .  "You ever thought of learning Morse code, kid?"     In hindsight, it was that that started everything.   Cody wasn't sure how the woman knew that he had never learned Morse code. Perhaps it's her age, he thought. Old people know too much, and she is almost an old person. "I can't say I've given Morse Code much thought, no,"  he said. "Shame," she said.  She took a long drag on her cigarette, blew the smoke back out, watched it drift lazily around the café. "Tell you what," she said, picking up the shot glass she had emptied a little while ago. "Let's start now." She tapped it down once, gave a pause, then tapped down three times more.  Cody noticed that her weathered fingernails were painted a bright fire truck red.  "We're starting at the top of the alphabet, with A," the woman said. "Repeat after me." Cody glanced over his shoulder at the clock on the café wall. It was very late. The café was technically open until three in the morning, but already the teenager cleaning the floor was drooping over his mop, eyes fluttering shut, and the waitress was also yawning as she scrolled through her phone. He didn't want to make them stay up by lingering too long. "Don't eye the time, I saw you drink those two pints, boy. Besides, it's raining like hell! You're not driving home anytime soon," the woman laughed, clapping Cody on the shoulder with surprising strength. "Sit a while. Repeat after me." Tap- pause- tap tap tap. Cody reluctantly fished a ballpoint pen out of the cup next to the cash register and started mimicking the woman's shot glass with it.  "Good," she said. "Now, B."  Tap tap tap- pause- tap- pause- tap- pause- tap. C followed, of course, then D, and before Cody knew it, it was two in the morning and he had reached Z and could tap out all the letters with only a few mistakes.  "Not bad for a modern adult," his teacher praised, the crinkles in the corners of her eyes bunching up appreciatively. "You at least have half a brain." "Thanks," Cody said.  "Tap that out to me, I don't much like the sound of your voice," she told him, puffing rings of smoke towards the windows as she spoke.   He tapped it, letter by letter.   "Good," the woman said.   The rain was still pouring, but it was nearly three. The teenager had already driven home. The waitress was giving Cody and the red-nailed woman side glances as if asking them with her eyes to please leave so she could close up the café and go sleep.  "I think I should be okay to drive home by now," Cody said, getting up from his seat at the table.   "Bah,"  the woman said.   "Thanks for the scones," he said to the waitress, because that was in fact what he had come to the café for so many hours ago.   Cody left the café sprinting with his arms held up against the rain as if that would keep him from being soaked through. It did not help. He got into his car dripping and shivering, and even though he turned on the heater right away, he did not feel remotely warm for a long time.   As he started up the car and began backing out of the parking lot, Cody got the strangest feeling that something was wrong.  He checked his seat belt; it was strapped safely across his chest. He checked the fuel; nearly full. He checked his mirrors; perfectly positioned. The windshield wipers were doing fine and rubbing off enough water so that Cody could see all the way down the road despite the pouring rain.  Must be nothing, Cody thought as he pulled out into the road. Nothing seems to be wrong at all.  But as he drove down the road and up the hill and deeper into the stormy night, he found that the feeling of wrongness was persisting and even getting worse as time went on.   "What's up?" he said aloud, hoping that hearing his own voice would take away the chills running up his shoulders. "Nothing to worry about, Cody. Nothing at all, you're just driving up to your apartment in a rainstorm at night and you're worried because it's a bit dark. That's it."   When he stopped talking, he realized that the car had not become entirely silent.   The rain was making noises on the roof of the car.  "Just the rain," Cody murmured, but again when he stopped speaking, he noticed how strong and loud the rain was.   It was drumming on the roof.  No, it was pattering.  No, Cody thought all at once. No, the rain is tapping.  And tapping it was, striking in a rapid sort of way with brief pauses in between, dancing across the car in a skipping sort of manner.   Without even thinking, Cody began counting the taps and pauses.  Tap-  pause-  tap tap tap-  pause- tap. Tap- pause- tap- pause- tap tap tap. And then Tap tap tap- pause- tap. And then it started repeating again.