Get a larger caliber gun for your protection, a 22 doesn’t hack it unless you are a darned good shot and very lucky.
SERIAL CALLER (Works in Progress)
SERIAL CALLER
“Listen carefully,” the suave male voice said on the phone, “and do everything I say. Don’t try to leave the house because I am outside watching. I have hooked on to a line and fixed your phone so you can’t call out even if you hang up, so listen to me. Okay?”
“What are you? Crazy? Where are you? ” I look out the window as far as my line will stretch. This is the eighties and we didn’t yet have a portable phone. “I don’t see you.”
“Listen. This is what I want you to do: get a plastic garbage bag, then fill it with all your lingerie and all your valuable jewelry and money — ALL OF IT — and put the bag outside the front door. Then ——- take off all your clothes and open the door because I’m going to come in and make love to you.”
“You depraved son-of- a-bitch, just you stay on the line while I send my son next door and have him have this call traced. STEPHEN! “
“You don’t have a son there. You know you are all alone. I’ve been watching a long time.”
“Well, you’ll see him in a minute — if you ARE outside the house.”
“Has your son ever seen you make love? Because he’s going to.”
As I put the phone down and ran to Stephen’s room where he was engrossed in one of the Hobbit trilogies, I realized I was shaking. How could I let that idiot do this to me?
Stephen didn’t understand what was going on, but finally humored his mother and began a slow walk to the neighbor’s house across the street, more than a little embarassed.
“Hurry, Stephen. I don’t know how long I can keep this guy on the phone.”
“Aw, Mom.”
“HURRY!”
I picked up the phone again and found my voice was as shaky as my hand. I was weak all over. A voice on the phone — out of the blue — on a beautiful day, had lit in me a fury I didn’t know I was capable of — and fear, if I am to be honest. Just a voice!
“Okay, you pervert, take a look at the front yard. That’s my six-foot son heading next door to call the cops.”
“Lady, you know you are all alone. You know your son isn’t going next door, and no one is going to call the cops.”
So, either he wasn’t in the yard as he said or he was in the back where he didn’t have a view of Stephen. Which was it? I would find out.
“Just a minute,” I said, “There’s no one here but me now. I’ll be right back.”
“Now you are getting smart. Hurry and put those valuables in the bag. Oh, and don’t forget to get your clothes off.”
I put the phone down and rushed to the bedroom. My .22 revolver was always loaded and right by the bed. I pulled it out and raced to the foyer, slinging the front door open with a bang. Then I grabbed the phone and stretched the cord till I was within site of the opened door.
“All right. I’m ready,” I told him. “Come on in. The door’s open.”
I put the pistol by the phone as I pulled the hammer back, then put the phone back to my ear.
There was a click, then a dial tone.
I looked out the door and saw Stephen slowly walking back. He still seemed embarrassed about having to report whatever it was that had upset his mother so, but he had done it.
The police officer showed up a few moments later. We sat at the dining room table where wrote everything I said on a report form.
“It’s him again, ” he said. “We haven’t heard from this guy in over a couple of years now.”
“Again? You know who it is?”
“Wish we did. He calls a woman with the same instructions several months or a year apart. It has been a long time and we thought he might have tired of his little game. We think it could be a telephone employee or former employee who knows how to tap into the line.”
“You mean he did tap in to my line outside, he was here?”
“No, no. He’s probably miles away, but using that method so he won’t be traced.”
“You couldn’t trace him?”
“No.”
The officer caught the concern in my face and told me I had nothing to worry about. The guy just got his jollies upsetting women. He is probably far away when he calls and never comes by to pick up the bags, he said.
“You mean women have actually put things in a bag for him and put it outside?”
“Most of them.”
I worked part time at the Seminole County School Board administrative office at the time. When I began to tell my experience the next day, a purchasing manager stopped me and finished the caller’s instructions.
“What?”
“He called my wife several years ago,” he said. Several at the lunch table knew of women in Seminole County who had been called — many of them with some connection to the School Board or connections to someone who worked there. For a time, I listened closely to every male voice I came in contact with at work, but no one sounded like that lunatic. Thank goodness!
I don’t know if it was the beautiful sound of the hammer on my Colt .22 or whether the caller just grew tired of his game, but many years have passed without reports of the menacing calls.
You might call this an incidence of real “gun control.”
Responses
By: julius on October 12, 2007
at 1:37 pm
I can hardly wait to read the rest of your adventures. You make my life seem dull.
By: Margaret on October 12, 2007
at 6:39 pm
Beda, I agree with Julius–get yourself a glock or a magnum. In the meantime, in my opinion, a group of stories like this compiled into a book would get heart’s thumping for lots of folks out there who like scary stories–big audience. I wish you a lot of good fortune with this idea and keep us apprised of your progress. It’s fun to be “in the loop”! Thanks, Beda!
By: Michelle Bergman on October 13, 2007
at 12:39 pm
Freaky. I felt uptight and nervous and scared the whole way through. Well done, is this non-fiction?
By: mommybee on October 16, 2007
at 7:43 pm
Thank you so much for your comments. Yes, it is non-fiction.
By: anhinga on October 16, 2007
at 7:50 pm
Looks kike page one/two has been done. Keep em coming. You can do it and I am so anxious to get my signed copy
Love You, Debbi
By: Debbi Kline on November 4, 2007
at 1:12 pm
Good grief that would’ve been really scary for you. There are so many sicko’s in this world. People like that really make me mad.
By: Tasmaniac on January 20, 2008
at 7:45 pm
