After Midnight

4
THE PHONE CALL

Not that he could see me.
If you’re in real darkness and someone else is out in the moonlight, he doesn’t stand a chance of spotting you.
But I felt his eyes on me.
I flinched as the phone rang again.
A phone isn’t meant to ring that late at night. It scares you. Even if you’re not alone in the house and spying on a prowler, the ringing rips through your nerves.
Friends don’t call after nine. Not unless there’s an emergency.
It rang again, and I flinched again.
Out in the pool, the man rolled over, turned and started gliding toward me with his head up.
The phone rang again as I took slow backward steps away from the glass door.
Why did it have to be so loud?
I knew he could hear it. Maybe not this particular phone, but a general clamor. I’d been swimming in the pool myself, sometimes, when people called. Even with the doors and windows shut, you could hear rings and chirps and warbles and tweets from all over the house. I don’t even know how many phones Serena had, but at least five—maybe seven or eight. It was a big house, and there were phones in nearly every room.
The only answering machine was in the den.
With me.
After the fourth ring came clicks that meant the machine was responding.
I kept creeping backward.
Outside, the stranger arrived at the side of the pool. He stood up, put his hands on the concrete edge, and seemed to stare straight at me.
I’m not big on distances. My guess, though—he was only twelve or fifteen feet away from the glass door. And I was on the other side of it, five or six feet back.
More clicks from the machine.
A man’s voice said, “Ah, you finally got yourself an answering machine. Hope it’s not because of me. But it probably is, huh? Who’s the guy you got to record the greeting for you?” A pause. “Never mind. It’s none of my business, I guess. Anyway, are you there? Judy? If you’re there, would you pick up? Please? I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but…I don’t want to lose you. I love you. Are you there? Please, talk to me.”
He went silent.
The man in the pool jumped, planted a foot on the edge, and climbed out.
“The thing is, I’m not going to call again. I’m not going to beg you to change your mind. I’m not going to plead with you. I’ve got to hang on to a little of my dignity, you know?”
The man started walking slowly toward the glass door.
“So this’ll be it. The ball’s in your court. If you really want it to be over, fine. I’ll accept that. I’ll never bug you again. It’ll be adios, Tony. Forever. I don’t want that to happen, but hell…Are you there, Judy? It feels weird, talking to you this way. Would you please pick up, if you’re there?”
The stranger arrived at the door and peered in.
Could he see me?
Could he hear the quick loud thudding of my heart?
I stood motionless, staring at him. He had his arms raised like a guy who’s been ordered to “stick ’em up.” His open hands were pressed against the glass. So was his forehead. But his nose didn’t touch the glass. Neither did his chest or belly or legs. Nothing else touched except for the tip of his penis, which looked like a smooth and strange little face pushing against the glass to help him search for me.
“Okay,” Tony said to the answering machine. “If that’s how you want it. Anyway, I’ve moved to a new place. I couldn’t stand being in the old apartment anymore, not after everything that’d happened there.” He sounded as if he were trying not to cry. “I’ll give you my number, and you can call me if you want to. If you don’t call, I’ll understand.”
As Tony gave his new telephone number, the man outside took a step away from the door, reached down and grabbed the handle and jerked it.
Snatching up the phone with one hand, I blurted, “Tony!”
With my other hand, I slapped up the light switch.
A lamp came on by the couch.
The sudden brightness hurt my eyes, made me squint, obliterated my moonlit view of the stranger. The sliding door was now a mirror. It showed me a hollow, transparent version of the coffee table, the lamp, and me.
I saw myself with the phone against my left ear. I stood crooked, still bent sideways to the right as if frozen in my reach for the light switch. My belt had come loose. The open robe seemed to split me down the middle. It still covered my left side from shoulder to thigh, but my entire right side was bare to the gaze of the stranger.
If he was still there.
He must’ve leaped back when the light first came on.
Now he returned, looming out of the darkness just beyond the door and pressing his body against the glass.
Tony was talking into my ear. I didn’t pay much attention, but he seemed to believe I was Judy.
The stranger gaped in at me. With his body pressed to the door, the lamplight reached him. He looked awful—grotesquely flattened and spread out—like an alien creature trying to ooze through the glass.
“HELLO!” I shouted into the phone. “POLICE! I WANT TO REPORT A PROWLER!”
“Huh?” Tony asked. “A prowler?”
The stranger writhed against the glass, licked it, rubbed it with his body and open hands as if making believe it was me.
From where I stood, it looked like me.
My reflection was superimposed over him.
He couldn’t see that, though. And didn’t need to, because he had a great view of the real me.
“YES! HE’S IN THE YARD! HE’S TRYING TO FORCE HIS WAY IN. THIS IS 3838 WOODSIDE LANE. YOU’VE GOT TO GET OVER HERE RIGHT AWAY!”
“Who is this? This isn’t Judy?”
“HE’S A WHITE MALE, ABOUT TWENTY YEARS OLD, SIX FEET TALL, A HUNDRED AND EIGHTY POUNDS, WITH SHORT BLOND HAIR.”
“Is this for real? Do you really have a prowler?”
“YES! AND HE’S NAKED, AND HE’S TRYING TO GET IN! YOU’VE GOT TO SEND A SQUAD CAR RIGHT AWAY!”
“Holy shit,” Tony said.
“PLEASE HURRY!”
“Do you want me to hang up and call the police?”
Taking the phone away from my mouth, I yelled at the man, “THE COPS ARE ON THE WAY, YOU SICK BASTARD! THEY’LL BE HERE IN TWO MINUTES!”
I know he heard me, but he seemed to be lost in his own world of skin and glass and me.
Watching him, I saw myself. I looked like a ghost being molested by a mad, drooling mime. He writhed against me, caressed me, kissed me, then suddenly went rigid and started to jerk, shaking the door in its frame. For a moment, I thought he was having a seizure.
In a way, he was.
When I realized what was going on, I gasped and turned my head away.
My eyes met the light switch.
I shot my hand out and flipped it down. Darkness clamped down on the room.
The door stopped shaking.
I looked.
The stranger took a few steps backward, then whirled around. He ran to the edge of the pool, dived in, and swam for the other side.
While I watched him, I heard Tony’s tiny, faint voice coming from the phone’s earpiece down by my side.
The stranger boosted himself out of the pool, scurried over the concrete, swooped down and snatched up his shorts. He didn’t put them on. Clutching them in one hand, he dashed onto the lawn and ran toward the woods.
I lifted the phone.
Tony sounded frantic.“…okay? Hello? What’s happening?”
“I’m here,” I said.
“What happened? What’s going on?”
“I think it’s all right now. He just ran away.”
“You’d better call the cops.”
“He thinks I just did. That’s what scared him off.”
“Maybe you’d better call them for real.”
“I don’t know. He’s gone now.”
“How do you know he won’t come back?”
“Thanks a lot, Tony.”
“Sorry. Are you okay?”
“Just a little shook up. I’m all by myself, and he came sneaking out of the woods behind the house.”
“You said he was naked?”
“Yeah. Well, he took off his shorts and started swimming in the pool.”
“Weird. You don’t have any idea who he was?”
“Not a clue. Just some guy who came out of the woods.”
“Miller’s Woods?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s bad. A lot of real oddballs hang around in there.”
“This is the first time anyone ever came sneaking out to use the pool. That I know about, anyway.”
“You’re lucky that’s all he did.”
“Yeah,” I said. I thought about what he’d done on the door, but kept my mouth shut about it.
“You really should call the cops,” Tony told me.
“I know. You’re probably right.”
“They keep finding bodies in those woods.”
He wasn’t telling me anything new. “Now and then,” I said. “But most of them weren’t killed there. They were just dropped off, you know? It’s not like there’s necessarily a homicidal maniac hanging around in the woods.”
“I sure wouldn’t want to live near them.”
“Well, I don’t mind. I like it, normally. It’s nice and peaceful.”
“You live there alone?”
“I’m alone tonight.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you really can’t be sure he won’t come back.”
“I wish you’d stop saying that.”
“You sound like a nice person.”
“Thanks.”
“I’d hate to think you might end up…you know.”
“I won’t,” I told him.
“Do you have a name?” he asked.
“No, actually I’m one of those people who isn’t that lucky.”
He laughed a little, and I smiled.
“My name’s Alice,” I said. (That isn’t really what I told him. I told him my true name, which is a secret as far as this book is concerned…unless you’re smart enough to find my hidden message.)
“Hello, Alice,” he said.
“Hello, Tony.” (Tony isn’t his real name, either, by the way—in case you were daydreaming when you read the introduction. Tony, Serena, Charlie, Judy, etc.—all made up. The same goes for Miller’s Woods, and so on. Just thought I’d remind you.)
“I guess I dialed a wrong number,” Tony said.
“I guess you did.”
“I was trying to call this gal…”
“I know. Judy. She must’ve dumped you, huh?”
“Something like that.”
“You probably called her once too many times after midnight.”
“Think so?”
“It scares people. You shouldn’t do it.”
“Maybe not.”
“Besides which, it makes you sound desperate. If you want to get back on Judy’s good side, you don’t want her to think you’re desperate about it.”
“You’re probably right.”
“You bet I’m right.”
“Good thing I dialed the wrong number,” he said.
“I’m glad you did. My creepy visitor would probably still be here.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
“Nothing. Go to bed, I guess.”
“You shouldn’t stay there. Not by yourself.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Is there a neighbor you could stay with for the rest of the night?”
“Not exactly. Nobody nearby.”
“What about…?”
“Anyway, I’ll be fine. I really don’t think he’ll be coming back tonight. As far as he knows, the cops are on the way over.”
“I hope you’re right,” Tony said.
“So do I.”
“I’d hate to read about you in the paper.”
“Me, too.”
He laughed quietly. Then he said, “I’m serious about this, though. Is there a friend you can call? Someone who might be willing to come over? Maybe a relative?”
“None.”
“What about heading over to a motel?”
“At this hour?”
“Most of them over by the highway are open all night. You might have to ring a bell, or something, but…”
“I’m not going to any motel. Are you kidding? I’m probably ten times safer staying right here than if I try to drive over to one of those places at this hour. Anyway, haven’t you ever heard of Norman Bates?”
“You’ll be fine if you don’t take a shower.”
“I’ll just stay home and take one.”
Tony was silent for a few moments. It made me wonder what he was thinking about. Then he said, “Look. Why don’t I come over there? Just so you won’t be alone in case this guy decides to try something.”
His suggestion didn’t come as a huge surprise. Still, it made me feel uneasy.
“I don’t think so, Tony. Thanks for asking.”
“I realize we don’t know each other very well.”
“We don’t know each other period,” I pointed out. “You called the wrong number and we’ve been talking for about five minutes. Now you want to come over?”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Maybe you are and maybe you aren’t. Maybe this whole thing’s a set-up. It’s pretty convenient, you just happening to call here when you did.”
“I dialed the wrong number.”
“Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t.”
“Jeez,” he said.
For a few moments, he was silent.
Then he said, “Anyway, it’s getting pretty late. I’d better hit the sack. Good luck with your intruder, Alice. It was nice talking to you. Pretty much. Bye.”
He hung up.