I heard the phone ring in the kitchen. Picking it up, I stretched the chord out to undo the knots that twirled upon its own twirls. It was ridiculously loud on the other end, sounding like a sports bar or an auctioning house or packed chicken barn. Breathing came through stronger than any of the other sounds. I said nothing, at first, and listened to the chaos. The breathing man on the other side of the line cleared his throat and coughed. Mucus came up his throat and he spat it out.
“Hello?” I said into the phone.
The man coughed again.
“Yes, Mr. Kettleman, I have been meaning to reach you,” he said. “How are you doing today?”
“I am doi—”
“Don’t answer that! I already know you are doing terrible. Terribly anxious. Terribly nervous. Terribly lonely. Blah, blah, blah. I know already. No need to waste your breath on telling me about it.”
“Who is this?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am at this moment,” the man said. “I am just a man calling you on the phone.”
“Well if that is the case then I think I will just hang u—”
“You won’t hang up,” the man said.
“Oh yeah?” I pulled a stool from the kitchen counter and sat next to the landline phone.
“People don’t hang up on me so easily!” The man said. “Maybe it is just something about my voice. I have been told that my voice sounds strangely familiar. Do you think my voice sounds familiar, Mr. Kettleman?”
“I guess. Where are you right now? It is noisy as hell where you are!”
The man laughed. No words in his reply.
“Are you just wasting my time? What is it that you want?” I asked.
“You waste enough of your time. Don’t worry too much about the time you waste on lil’ ole me,” he said. “Time goes by whether you talk to me or not. Do you have someone else to talk to right now?”
“What do you want?” I raised my voice.
“What do I want? What I want?” The man sniffed through the phone. “I didn’t call you because I want something. I called you because you want something. Personally, I am never satisfied. I don’t think you could ever satisfy me.”
“I don’t even know who you are.”
“And still here you are having a chat with me. Funny how that works out. Am I right, Mr. Kettleman?”
“So what do I want?” I asked.
“Don’t be so stupid. You want what everyone wants. You want more.”
“More of what?” I sighed. “I don’t want to buy anything.”
“I don’t sell things, Mr. Kettleman. I make deals.”
“Isn’t that just another way of saying you sell things? Listen, pal, I am not buying anyth—”
“Sure you are! You are definitely going to make a deal with me.”
I hung up the phone. It rang immediately, and I picked it up.
“No thank you,” I placed the phone back on its rack.
Ring, ring, ring.
“Please don’t call again!” I slammed the phone down.
Once again… it rang.
“What?” I asked.
“So, Mr. Kettleman, are you ready to make a deal with me?”
“I don’t even know what kind of deal I am making. What is it that you can give me?”
“Now we are really talking! That is what I like to hear, good sir. I like to hear that a whole lot. Now, what I am trying to give you is what you have always wanted. Well… At least what you think you wanted. You have wanted to feel like there was a reason you bought this phone in the first place. It was something to break up that uncomfortable silence with some sound, is it not? And here I am! I am here to do that for you. The reason for your phone has arrived. How does that feel, Mr. Kettleman?”
“Are you high? What the hell i—”
“If you talk like that to me again there will be hell to pay. I know things about you that no one else knows.”
“What do you know?”
“The things that keep you up at night. All those things you regret, and all those things that you hope everyone forgot about. Remember those, Mr. Kettleman?”
“Everyone has regrets. You don’t know m—”
“I know you. Oh, I know you more than you know me! I got you in my little palm!”
“Leave me alo—”
“Remember that time you lied to your best friend. You remember, don’t cha, Mr. Kettleman? Sure you do, son!”
“Everyone lies. Now leave m—”
“Not this lie. Not what you did. Remember? And now you even lie to yourself about it, right? That is how you get through it? I know it. How could I not know it?”
“Who is thi—”
“I am the one here to make a deal with you. If only you didn’t have shit for brains, you might have remembered that. Now do you want to go through memory lane here? What about when you threw your ex under the bus in front of all her family? Or how about your internet history? Or how about all those awful things you used to say to the ones you loved? Or how about when you coul—”
“Are you following me? What is this? I will call the police!”
“Am I following you? Hmmmm…. Am I following you? Not exactly. I don’t need to! Don’t flatter yourself so much.”
“Where are you? Why don’t we settle this face-to-face?” I shouted into the phone.
“Now, now, Mr. Kettleman. That is no way to talk, now is it? There is nowhere you can meet me. I am not the kind that does face-to-face. I like to keep things mysterious. Behind a veil, if you will.”
“I can hear that you are somewhere! Where are you?”
“I am everywhere you look, son! I have connections absolutely everywhere! Don’t worry about where I am. Worry a bit more about where you are.”
“And where am I?”
“It seems like you are in my court, and you are my little puppet. I like it that way. I like having little puppets. And I have many, many puppets, boy. So with all that said, are you ready to hear my deal?”
“Or what?”
“Or I keep calling you. Or I use this information that I have. Or maybe something worse! Do you actually want to figure out what the ‘or what’ is? Why even bother asking by this point?” The man laughed and then burst into a cough.
“Fine. I will listen to your deal.”
“Good! But instead, I would prefer you read it. I will send it to you in the mail. Follow it to the letter.”
“And how can I trust you?”
“You can’t! But it doesn’t look like you have much of a choice do you? Is anyone else calling and making a deal with you?”
“Why do I have to make a deal? You expect me just to follow the directions of a mysterious voice over the phone?”
“My boy… You will come to learn that most people get their directions from a mysterious voice that they have never once considered the origins of.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hmmmmm…. What do I mean? You will only know what I mean once you know who I am.”
“And who is that?”
“Just follow the instructions on the deal I send you and maybe you will be lucky enough to find out.”
“And what happens if you go back on this deal? I don’t even know what I will receive yet!”
“We could always make another one. Actually, I fully intend to.”
“This doesn’t end does it?” I asked.
“We will be in touch, Mr. Kettleman.”
Click. The line was silent. There was a knock on the door and an envelope slipped through the mail slot. In panic, I ran to the door and opened it. No one was there. I opened the envelope and inside was a laundry list of actions:
Get promoted to the top of the department
Buy a house that is bigger than Bill’s house
Get in perfect shape
Forget feelings… Find the most impressive girlfriend and friends
Have the latest wardrobe and have the most perfect image
Learn perfect table etiquette
Keep up with all current affairs
Be the model citizen
Be knowledgeable in topics people would find interesting at cocktail parties
Don’t let people see your mistakes or flaws
“Why does he want me to do all this?” I asked myself. “This doesn’t even make any sense.”
I turned to the other side of the paper and there is small note:
Maybe it will finally make you happy! Maybe not! Maybe you will escape all those terrible memories of the past! Maybe not! I may alter the deal once you get there though… That is… If you can even make it there. I will call frequently, Mr. Kettleman! Don’t be a stranger!