***
“We have your wife.”
Not exactly the words Tom Dabber had expected to hear upon
answering the call on his cell. Even
though the call had come up without any identifying information, no reason
existed to assume anything had happened.
He generally considered himself an easygoing guy that avoided conflict,
so the thought of someone having a grudge against him never crossed his
mind. More importantly, his wife sat
right across from him in their recliner, so the threat couldn’t possibly apply.
“No, she’s right here. You’ve got the wrong number.” He
said, ending the call and preparing to call the police. Even though nothing threatened Lisa, whoever
had called might truly have someone else’s wife, and he certainly couldn’t
allow that danger to pass unaddressed.
However, before he could call, the phone rang again, showing the same ‘Unidentified
Caller’ message as before. Tom picked up
once more.
“Look, you--”
“Mr. Dabber, we know your wife is with you.” The same
cultured, yet malicious voice.
“Then why did you say you had her? A failed attempt at a twisted practical joke?”
“Because she is also here with us.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“But is true nonetheless.
Wave to your husband, Mrs. Dabber.”
Tom’s eyes widened as he saw his wife raise her arm and give
him a playful little wave, though the expression on her face betrayed the
nature of the action. Instead of the
usual smile, he saw only fear and confusion.
She then cried out in pain as a series of small cuts appeared across her
palm, forming a bloody smiley face. Tom
rushed to the restroom and grabbed a towel.
“Do we have your attention?”
“I think you know the answer to that. What do you want?”
“All things in time, my friend.”
“You threaten my wife and have the audacity to call me your
friend?”
“A little civility never hurts, Mr. Dabber. Just to ensure you know we’re being quite
serious, allow me the courtesy of letting you speak to your beloved spouse.”
Tom returned to the living room, seeing Lisa cradling her
hand, eyes now glazed over.
“How the fuck are you doing this?”
“Tom,” Lisa’s voice responded from the phone’s speaker, then
from her lips seconds after that, creating an echo effect. “I don’t really know what’s going on, but
they seem to want me to prove that I’m me. I mean, I figure you’ll believe them
since if I’m here, I’m clearly not there...”
“Where is there?”
“I don’t know. It’s
dark.” The delay between phone-Lisa and chair-Lisa continued, further unnerving
Tom, even after the pause before she continued.
“Fine, fine. You remember the
owl, in our hotel room in Barcelona?”
Tom laughed, remembering the incident, then went silent just
as quickly. While amusing to them, they’d
not shared the story with anyone, preferring to keep it a private joke. Much as
his mind didn’t want to accept it, his wife remained both here, but also at the
mercy of whoever had called.
“Are you still there, Mr.Dabber?”
“Yes, dammit.”
“Temper, temper.”
“Yeah, well let me threaten someone you love and we’ll see
how you react.”
“Ah, that’s just it, Mr. Dabber. We love only ourselves. Don’t misinterpret—we do not love each other,
we’re each in this for our own selves.
This is a partnership for our benefit.”
“And just who are you?”
“Patience, Mr. Dabber.
We’ll let you relax, but we’ll be in touch.”
The call ended, and with its termination, Lisa’s eyes
focused on him, full of questions.
“Tom, what happened?”
“I wish I knew. You
don’t remember anything?”
“No, I was just sitting here watching TV with you then I
zonked out. Now my hand is bleeding and
I’ve got a nasty headache.”
Tom relayed the details of the call, but she didn’t seem to
make any sense of it, either. “I don’t like this.” She said.
“Well, who would?
Doesn’t help that it makes no sense.”
“At least not with your worldview.”
“What?”
“Maybe there’s some truth behind the supernatural.”
“Why, did you break a mirror or cross paths with a black
cat?”
“Sarcasm isn’t going to help us, Tom. And those are superstitions, anyway, not the
supernatural. In any case, this is
something clearly in defiance of a rational explanation. What if...?” she trailed off.
“What if what?”
“What if something happened back when I was admitted to the
hospital with that really bad food poisoning?
They did say I’d technically died before they brought me back.”
“And what, you left part of yourself on the other side? That’s ridiculous.”
“Well then you explain it, Mr. Science.”
“I can’t, it’s beyond explanation.”
“Maybe we should talk to someone else, get a different
viewpoint or something. A priest or something?”
“They’d just be hypothesizing too. They’re around to provide emotional support
to those who can’t get it elsewhere. They
said they’d be calling us back. I say we
wait. Right now, how matters less than what happens next.”
“I know you think that kind of stuff is fake, but what’s the
harm?”
“By that argument, what’s the harm in letting someone who’s
only read about surgery perform it? I
mean, I don’t mind you talking to them, but I wouldn’t take what they say too
seriously.”
“Yeah, this is just weird and scary.”
“I’m sure everything will work out, try not to stress too
much.”
***
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