Erica opened one eye and gazed at the ringing telephone with venomous loathing. She was the sort of person who believed that ringing telephones were the cause of half the troubles in the world.
“Communication is the root of all evil,” she thought to herself, as she tried to ignore the vile instrument. But closing her eyes again brought no relief. It continued to ring. Not for the first time, she wished that the phone company would turn off all phones at midnight.
One arm snaked out from beneath the bedclothes, clicked on the bedside light and picked up the phone. “It had better not be you again,” she hissed into the phone. Her sister Janice had been having some sort of man trouble again, and for the best part of a month she had been incessantly calling for sympathy and advice.
She half-twisted in the bed and propped herself up on her arm. Her hair had tumbled over her face, obscuring her view as she tried to look at the time on the bedside clock.
“Oh honey, did I wake you up? Thank God you’re there.” came the slurred voice, evidently that of a man who was feeling the effects of much too much drink. It wasn’t Janice. She didn’t recognise the man’s voice. He sounded pathetic, and very drunk. She was waking up now.
Erica had always had a devilish streak in her. She was the sort of woman who, even in the wee small hours, could still muster a sense of humour. This guy sounded interesting. He had obviously misdialled. Erica just loved practical jokes. She could keep a straight face under the most difficult circumstances, when she was having someone on.
“Do you know what time it is?” she rasped into the mouthpiece, holding back any trace of humour in her voice. “Why the hell do you call me in the middle of the night? What’s the matter with you?” She smirked as she waited for the man’s reply.
“Did I wake you up? Did I wake you up, honey? Aw Hell! I’m sorry. I kept on telling myself not to call. I kept on telling myself not to call you at this time, in the middle of the night. Are you mad? Did I make you angry?”
She squinted again at the bedside clock and was able to make out the time; 2:30am. She removed the phone from her ear, cupped the mouthpiece and managed a soft giggle; then, with a deep breath she put the phone back to her ear. His voice was still droning out at her.
“… did I? Are you awake? Did I disturb you? I’m sorry honey. Really!. You don’t know how bad this makes me feel.”
She cut in on him, “Look. Do you have any idea what time it is?”
There was a pause in the conversation for a moment.
Then he spoke again. “I woke you up, didn’t I? And now you’re annoyed. Now you’re annoyed. I knew you would be. I told myself not to phone. I knew you would be annoyed. Now I’ve got you all upset. Aw hell! I’m sorry honey.”
“Don’t you honey me! Not at 2:30 in the bloody morning. I’m hanging up on you.” She lifted bedding to her mouth to muffle a laugh.
“No. No. Don’t hang up, honey. I just called to say I was sorry about last night. Hell! I’m so sorry. I mean, I didn’t mean to hurt you, honestly I didn’t. I just wanted to see if you were alright. Are you still mad at me?”
“Of course I’m mad with you. You phone me at this time in the morning to tell me this? Listen, I’m going to hang up. I mean it.” Erica reached out and grabbed the pack of cigarettes. She was really enjoying this and wanted to make the most of it.
“How are things with you baby? Are you OK?” he slurred.
Erica took a puff at her cigarette and blew smoke silently across the room. She took the grin off her face and said “Listen you pathetic drunk. I’m OK. I just need to get back to sleep. Now I’m going to hang up.”
“I’m so sorry for what happened.” He went on. “I thought you were dead… I was convinced you were dead.”
Erica pulled the phone out in front of her and frowned at it. This was getting a little weird. But of course drunks can go on about all sorts of strange stuff without knowing what they are saying. She decided to hang in there.
“No, I’m not dead, just dead tired. Now will you get off the line or do I have to call the police?”
The caller fell silent. “No! Baby, don’t do that! No need for that. But you are mad aren’t you?”
“Yes! Of course I’m mad at you, you freak. Now get off the line.” Erica was surprised at the sharpness in her voice. Was she overplaying her part? She relaxed with the man’s reply.
“Yes. You told me I’m a freak. You did, didn’t you?” He didn’t wait for a reply. ”Thank God your OK. I’m sure I saw blood. Perhaps I didn’t. I thought I saw blood on the poker, lots of it. Perhaps I just wanted to see your head split open with blood oozing out… you know, because of what you said… because I was so mad with you”. He paused. “But I’m not mad now. I hope you’re not mad with me. Are you mad with me, baby?”
Erica felt that the whole thing was taking on a new aspect; and it was one she didn’t really care for. She had had her fun but wasn’t enjoying the game now.
Her voice was now genuinely serious. “Now look, OK, whoever you are, I will certainly call the police if you ring back, and I am definitely going to hang this phone up right now”.
“Whoever I am? Oh baby. What did that bump on the head do to you? Whoever I am?”
Erica was confused. “That’s it! I’m hanging up now!”
“OK! OK! Goodnight Janice.”
Erica heard the phone click. As she began to think about her sister Janice, the room filled with an eerie silence.