The Ninth Caller Ch. 03

"Yes, it was a bit hit," Frank said flatly. "And it was probably my best show ever, well..., until the end. We had been taking calls all night, and Sofia was fantastic. She was answering every caller perfectly, most of the time before they even asked their question. She was using her Gypsy spirit board to contact the otherworld, and as the show was about to end, the board spelled out that an actual ghost was going to call in to the show."

"A ghost? A ghost called in live to your show?"

"Crazy right? But yes, that is what was supposed to happen, according to Sofia."

"Now I know I wish I had listened. So, what did the ghost say? Something about us? This is really scary, Frank."

"It was a prank call," Frank said. "But, the 'ghost' said that I had a daughter, and she was in some sort of danger."

"That explains Bill's question."

Frank sighed, and said, "Yes, but, I don't have a daughter! I swear, I am going to be haunted by this forever I can see." He shook his head and added, "But, when the 'so-called' ghost said that if there had been Starbucks around when the ghost and I had met, I wouldn't have remembered her name either. Now, who else but you and I could have known about that conversation?"

"Jesus! That is fucking freaky," Donna said as she shuddered. "Even if it is not a ghost, it sounds like some kind of stalker, or something. But..., honestly Frank," she added as she reached across the table and touched his hand, "I didn't tell anyone about that. I mean, why would I? It was humiliating to me."

"You know it was an accident, right?"

"So you say," Donna said as she raised her eyebrow. "I may only be a college student, and a barista, but I am not stupid. I know you are a big star and I am just another notch on your belt."

Frank winced. "I am not like that. I am not a jerk. It was an accident..., I was so swept away by your..., considerable charms, my memory got scrambled."

Donna laughed. "You are adorable when you are lying, but, I appreciate the effort. I like to know you think I am worth lying to."

Frank smiled. "I am not lying, Donna. See..., I remember you name perfectly. I will say, I am relieved it wasn't you that called my show. I thought you were cool, and am glad to know you still are." His smile widened as he added, "You know, if I wasn't pressed for time, I might have ordered that Frappuccino after all."

Donna giggled, but then her smile dissolved. "You know..., now that I really think about what you are saying, I am getting seriously creeped out. I mean, who do you think could have made that call?" She shuddered as she glanced around the shop. "How could anyone have known about what we talked about? Do you think maybe your housekeeper, uh—"

"—Juanita?" Frank said. "Absolutely not! She has been with me for years and is almost like a surrogate mother to me. She certainly wouldn't call in to my show to embarrass me."

"Any ex-wives, or girlfriends?"

"Trust me," Frank said, "if any of them had called, they would have said something other than that! There is no end of shit they could have said that would be far worse."

"Well..., do you think it might have actually been a ghost then?" Donna said.

Frank's expression was blank before he said, "I believe in ghosts, in theory at least. After all, I have made a whole career out of the paranormal, but, if this was a ghost, it must have been a wrong connection. I certainly don't have a daughter."

Donna smirked, and said, "Are you sure about that?"

*****

"Rosario, malo pero, malo pero! You can't have this chicken," Juanita scolded as the tiny dog pawed frantically at her leg. "You have your kibble. Now, be a good dog and go eat that."

Rosario was undeterred. Once her tiny Chihuahua nose caught a whiff of the chicken Florentine being prepared, she was a canine with a mission. Dogs don't have many hobbies, so they have all day to devote to their obsessions.

After a few minutes of increasingly loud whimpering, Juanita laughed as she put down her spatula and bent down to pet the dog. "You are such a greedy little bitch. I suppose I will never get any peace until you get what you want," she said as she placed a tiny piece of chicken on the floor. "Now..., if I give this to you, you have to let me alone, OK?"

Rosario panted and cocked her head, almost appearing to agree.

Juanita stood up and said, "Now..., wait..., wait..." She watched as five seconds went by, and then ten, and then twenty, the tiny pooch shivering as she did not even look at the delicious treat laying at her feet. Finally, Juanita said, "OK, you can take it."

Within a half a second, SLURP, gobble, gobble, gobble; the piece of poultry was vacuumed up into the living furry little hoover.

"I am so weak," Juanita said as she shook her head and watched the smiling dog wagging her tail like a flag caught in a windstorm. "I am such a sucker for your whining and begging. Now, you sit there and be good, and maybe later, I will give you another treat. But now, I have to finish dinner for your daddy."

Rosario sat down and stared up intensely into Juanita's eyes, her tiny brown eyes glued to the beloved bringer of delicious chicken. Chicken always brought compliance, and the promise of future poultry kept her extra alert and well behaved.

Juanita went back to cooking; her every move being watched intensely by her canine audience. A minute or two later, Rosario suddenly stood up and padded out into the hallway.

Once out in the hall, the dog shivered as something caught her eye. Hackles grew on her back, and she began to snarl as she stared down the hall into the bedroom of Frank. She did not bark, but whined. After a couple of minutes her whimpering and crying began to get louder every second, growing in intensity like a gathering thunderstorm.

"Rosario! Be quiet!" Juanita called out from the kitchen, the sharp earsplitting wail of the dog echoing through the whole apartment. "Other people in this building are going to complain."

Rosario continued to cry, and now added growling to her repertoire.

Juanita put down her spatula again and sighed. Life with small dogs was always loud, but this was different. She walked out into the hall, and instantly shivered.

"Ay! It is cold out here. I think we have the A/C up too high." She glanced down at her arms, and saw them covered in gooseflesh. It felt like it was 50 degrees in here. She then looked over at Rosario. It was strange. She was not barking, which was an almost constant state for her. Chihuahuas are not known for being a silent breed. But, something was not right. Instead of barking at the door, something she always did when she needed to go out to eliminate, and was what Juanita expected, she was staring down the long hall towards Frank's bedroom.

"What is it, Rosario?" Juanita said. "Did you see a mouse again?"

Rosario continued to growl, but now, began to back up; whimpering as she walked backwards.

"What is it? What do you see?" Juanita said as she stared down the corridor into Frank's empty bedroom. There was nothing there. No one was in the house but she and Rosario, but the dog was obviously quite upset. When she bent down to pet her, thinking that maybe she was sensing an impending thunderstorm; dogs are quite sensitive to pressure changes, she jumped when Rosario spun back and snapped at her.

The dog was unhinged. Her fur was standing up straight and her tiny brown eyes were open very wide. She was shaking and crying like she was about to be devoured by a bear. Something was terrifying her.

"Malo Pero!" Juanita shouted as she scooped the dog up in her arms and prepared to smack her on the nose. When she felt the dog shaking and crying even more, and saw the look of utter terror in its eyes, she stopped. "What is wrong with you? What has gotten you all upset, girl?"

Now in Juanita's arms, Rosario calmed a bit, and Juanita turned and peered down the long hall into Frank's bedroom. Perhaps the dog saw that mouse again. It would explain this behavior. She had complained to the super a few days ago that there were signs of rodents in the basement, but now if they were able to get up to these top floors, they would have to call in the exterminator. Considering the fortune Frank paid for this apartment, and the eye watering monthly maintenance fees, mice were not acceptable.

She looked down at the shivering dog in her arms, and said, "OK, let's go see what got you so spooked. If it is a mouse, I am going to raise holy hell! This building is too expensive for this shit!"

Juanita slowly walked down the hall, and every step she took closer to the bedroom caused the whining and crying from Rosario to increase a decibel level. Finally, only a few steps away from the open door, the tiny dog started thrashing and biting like a Tasmanian devil after drinking nine espressos. Snarling and clawing wildly, the dog desperately fought to leap out of Juanita's arms, and almost got loose.

"All right, already!" Juanita cried as she put Rosario down and the dog scurried off into the kitchen. "You are a bad dog! No more chicken for you tonight!"

Juanita turned and quietly finished walking into Frank's bedroom. If there were mice, she wanted to make sure and walk as softly as possible. Rosario's caterwauling probably scared those little fuzzy bastards away, but still, she wanted to see for herself. Once inside the bedroom, and after glancing around, she shrugged. Everything was in place. The bed was made, she had just made it a few hours earlier, and Frank's clothes were put up, she had done that too, so nothing seemed odd. There were none of the tell-tale signs of rodents; shredded paper, mouse shit, pee spots, so everything seemed fine.

She did notice something, though. As her body shivered, the small hills that had formed on her arms in the foyer, were a mountain range in here. It was bitterly cold, like she had just taken a dive into an ice bath. Walking over to the thermostat she flicked the side of it with her finger and frowned. "72 degrees my ass. It feels like 40 in here! I guess I will have to call the A/C man as well as the exterminators. This gauge can't possibly be right."