For a few weeks now, I have been having arguments around bedtime with Sal. It all comes down to the noises on the roof. These noises, which I interpret as human footsteps and Sal interprets as those of a cat, only begin when we are going to bed.
“Why would a person be on the roof?” Sal would ask me.
“I don’t know, but that isn’t a cat.”
At some point he began trying to go out and spot the cat, but the moment we open the door the noise stops.
A few days ago, the noise was more pronounced than ever. It sounded like tap dancing on the roof. Sal ran outside to try and see what was going on. But the noise, as always, stopped.
Sal came to my side, deciding it was, indeed, human. But who? Who would tap dance on my roof?
We came up with many possibilities. The unfriendly neighbors, some children climbing down from a second story, even possibly a certain student who loves to play tricks on me. It became a game, to come up with more and more outrageous possibilities.
The issue remains unresolved. I do not know who gets on my roof at night.