I Know

The phone rang again for the third time in an hour. She knew who it was. The caller.

He’d started a few months ago. At first she thought it was just another solicitor and ignored it. She even called *69 once or twice, but the caller’s number was unavailable. Then, just out of curiosity, she started to pick up. A few of the calls were the usual fundraisers and the like, but sometimes there was just silence. If she waited long enough she could hear the distinctive breathing. A kind of scratchy sound, like the lungs of a long-time smoker.

Randomly at first, and then more regularly, the calls continued, always in the evenings. After 7:00, before 11:00. Why? Why would someone harass her, frighten her? What was so frightening about breathing? There was no real harm in it. Still, it was creepy.

She called the phone company of course, but the calls could not be traced. She changed her number, but the calls continued. She began to dread coming home, and found excuses to stay away, but the demands of an early morning commute combined with her need for a solid eight hours of sleep, meant she was frequently home when the calls came through at 10:00, 10:30, 10:45.

Then on one call she heard the voice. “I know,” he said. Just that. “I know.” And then the hang-up.

She told her doctor she had a stressful job and needed some help. She didn’t tell him it was only in the evenings that the stress was more than she could bear. The calls continued. A Valium with dinner helped soothe her jangled nerves. “I know.” Some nights she took two and even three. “I know.”

Finally, she unplugged the phone. Peace. Then she heard it again. “I know. I know.”

What could he know? How could he know? No one knew. “I know.” More Valium. A drink to steady her nerves. Another. Lay down. Rest. In her head now. Ring. Ring. Ring. “I know.”

Not any more. It’s over.