FAST LIFE BLUEZ | short stories

The Mysterious Call

The vexatious sound of my matador ringtone wakes me up from a glorious dream about a hotel being run by pigs.

Believe it or not, business was booming.

I groggily rub the crust out of my eyes and pick up my phone to check the caller I.D.

Unknown.

Ugh, it’s the middle of the night. Should I really even bother answering this right now? I decide to roll the dice and pick it up. “Hello?”

An indiscernible voice on the other end of the line says, “There is a car waiting for you outside your house. Get inside. You don’t want to ignore this.”

Now that makes me sit up. “Who is this? And why are you calling me at three in the morning?”

My husband Mark rolls over, squints in my direction and says, “Everything okay?”

“You know what, hold that thought,” I say into the phone. Hastily climbing out of bed, I grab my robe and put it on over my silk Snoopy pajamas, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder as I whisper, “Yeah, baby. I just have to handle something really quick.”

Sitting up with his eyes still closed, he reaches for me across the bed. “Are you on the phone? Who is calling you at this hour? If it's my mother, tell her we're not getting a divorce so you can date my cousin Tyler and that's that.”

I tie the robe around my waist and put my hands on my hips. “It's definitely not your mother. And wait - you have a cousin named Tyler? Look, just go back to bed. I won't be long.”

He shrugs, yawns, and rolls over as loud snores fill the room instantaneously.

Way to protect me, Mark.

What if I was on the phone with my drug dealer who I owed tens of thousands of dollars and now I was going to surrender myself so that they wouldn't send their “little friends” to the house to get revenge?

Guess I gotta love his flaws too.

I leave the room, shutting the door quietly behind me as I return my attention to the phone. “Anybody there?”

“Here, and waiting.”

“Right, so as I was saying. Who is this and why should I not ignore this call?”

“Just go outside.”

And then the line goes dead.

I huff my breath and decide to take the chance of getting to the bottom of this strange caller.

The stairs slightly wheeze under my weight as I jog down them in my bunny slippers.

I've already decided that I'm not going back to sleep after this so Mark will be getting a stern talking to about why he's paying to replace step number seven since it's been creeking for the past six months.

Before I go out the door, I pick up my husbands baseball bat resting beside the coat rack and put my phone in the pocket of my robe.

I'll be damned if I get done Scream-style and have my throat slit by a lunatic jumping out of the bushes.

I open the door and peek out at the neighboring houses, checking the lots for cars I don't recognize.

My eyes land on an unfamiliar late model grey Mercedes parked in front of the house across the street.

I close the door behind me, leaving just a crack open so I can get back in without having to wake up Mark.

With my trusty bat in hand, I tip toe over to the Mercedes and knock on the window.

All I hear is the distinct click signaling that the door has been unlocked. I consider making a break for my front door as the same voice from the phone says something that sends a chill down my spine. 

“Get in.”