The Ninth Caller Ch. 06

"Yes, but..., what if someone knows I am a—" Ricky said.

"—Don't say it," Dave interrupted. "McKee is a small town, so that why we keep things doubly anonymous." Ricky nodded and exhaled in relief.

His eyes widened however when they landed on an older man sitting near the front of the room. He whispered, "Oh shit! That's my fucking boss! I..., I need to get out of here!"

"No, Ricky, don't leave," Dave said with a twinkle in his eye. "This happens. In a small town like this, it is inevitable. Hell, it has happened to me! But remember, this is strictly anonymous, so, you don't have to worry about being recognized. Members never acknowledge each other directly outside of this room. That is simply not done." Pointing at Ricky's boss, he said, "And that guy, I know him well. He is a peach, you know. I have been his sponsor for years, so, trust me. He isn't going to hold it against you that you are here."

"Are you sure, Dave?" Ricky said. "I really need to keep my job. I have one foot in the fire and another foot on a banana peel, you know. The last thing I need is to get fired. My life is fucked up enough as it is."

"Ricky," Dave said with a laugh. "Remember, YOU saw him here too, right? If he thinks less of you for being at an Addicts Anonymous meeting, well, what in the hell was he doing here then?"

Ricky smiled and looked down at the ground. "Yeah, I guess that is a good point." He glanced over at Dave, and exhaled loudly. "Thanks man. You really are a life saver. I never did thank you for sponsoring me."

"Think nothing of it, Ricky," Dave said. "You will learn in the 12 step program that helping others is part of your road to recovery." He paused as the leader got up to speak, and whispered, "But, things are just getting started, so, let's sit down. If the spirit moves you to share, share. Otherwise, just listen and learn."

For the next several minutes, typical meeting bullshit was discussed. There was the annual barbeque coming up in September, and of course, the Christmas raffle. Finally, the leader sat down, and others started to get up to the podium to share.

As each person talked, Ricky could not help but ponder what addiction each were suffering from. Was that attractive woman who spoke about her daily struggles a Meth head? She appeared to still have all of her teeth so perhaps she was an alcoholic like him. Another man got up and waddled to the podium and talked about the constant clicking in his head. Ricky nodded knowingly. Given the man's girth, he assumed his addiction must be food, but, his struggle seemed very familiar. The struggle against Jim Beam might be similar to the battle against Ronald McDonald. As the corpulent man told his tale, Ricky recognized many familiar issues, especially the clicking.

It always came back to the clicking. Once those urges get their tentacles into your sub-conscious, no matter what they are for, they never let loose. Slowly your will is strangled and you collapse at the unrelenting hunger coursing through your spine. His stomach calmed a bit after an hour, as somehow realizing that everyone there, regardless of why, seemed to have the same problems he did. He turned to Dave and smiled. The path forward was clear. This was going to work.

Finally, as the hour grew to a close, and nearly everyone had spoken, Ricky sat up straight when a very old and frail looking man got up to speak. He knew the guy well. It was his boss, and to his relief, not once had they made eye contact the whole time he was there. Now, however, he was sure to see him. He winced as he prepared to be embarrassed.

As the man took to the podium, he showed no sign of recognition as their eyes met. Ricky felt a wave of relief start to crash into the lava in his mouth, but, his mind started churning. I wonder what his addiction is? A guy like that, more money than he could ever spend, seemingly in charge of everything, was struggling too. Strange, but knowing this was oddly comforting. If a guy like Tim Jones had problems and needed help, well, he shouldn't feel bad at all. Ricky leaned forward to listen.

"Hello everyone, I'm Tim."

"Hi Tim," the crowd answered in unison.

"Before I start, I really want to thank my sponsor, Dave," Tim said as he pointed to the back of the room. "He, as always, has been right about everything, and I should have listened to him. Sadly, I have struggled with my addiction for forty years, and I hate to say this, but, I fell off the wagon a few days ago."

"That's OK, Tim. Admitting your failure is the path to your redemption," the leader said.

"It happens; the important thing is to move forward," another yelled out.

"All fall short in the glory of God," another person shouted.

"That clicking, that infernal, incessant, relentless, remorseless clicking haunted me too long, and..., I gave in," Tim continued. "I skated too close to that edge and now I see now it was a mistake. We all have to face our Demons, but not get too close."

"That's right, Tim," Dave called out. "You just have to eliminate all temptation."

Tim's skull like face brightened, and a thin smile crept over his face. It was hard to watch, his skin seemingly looking like it was just about to rip off of his bones. But despite the macabre display, the smile was genuine and sincere.

Tim raised his hand, and said, "I promise now, before God and all present, those demons will not get the last laugh. I will beat this thing! I know it! I just know it!"

The room erupted into applause and a chorus of amens.

"Give it up to a higher power, Tim," someone yelled.

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step," another said.

Tim patted the air and the room quieted. "Amen! And now, through the power of divine revelation, I realize my mistake. I was too clever before. I was too slick in the past. My pride thought I could walk alone. I know I have to confront my demons, but, now I see how, not like before. NO! I need to capture them. I need to chain them. I need to control them, keep them prisoner. Yes..., that is the answer, I know it to be true. If I can just capture them and place them on a leash, I can rewire my brain. Then, and only then, will this clicking, this damnable clicking," he continued as he held his head.

Everyone in the room nodded. They knew what Tim was talking about. Whether it was the meth head sitting in the front of the room, or the alcoholic standing in the back, or the woman getting another cup of coffee while she continuously squeezed her nostrils together as they shrieked out for more coke; all knew the feeling well.

"But with God's help, and the good people here, and my sponsor, I know I am going to beat this thing. I just know it!"

Applause filled the room, and Ricky smiled and looked over at Dave. He, alone of the people there, was not applauding.

"What's wrong? Didn't you like what Tim said?" Ricky asked.

Dave shook his head and sighed. "The guy just doesn't get it. He is playing a dangerous game here. You cannot jail your demons; you have to stay away from them. If you think you can tame this beast and keep it hostage, you are fucking full of shit!"

*****

"Sofia, I want to apologize to you," Frank said as he sheepishly looked down into his cup of coffee. "I was rude and dismissive and treated you like crap. For that, I really am sorry." He, Jane, Juanita and Sofia were sitting in the kitchen of Frank's apartment. Juanita looked wrecked, dark circles deeply grooved under her eyes. It was obvious she had not slept a wink the night before. At Frank's feet, Rosario clung to Frank's leg, shivering and whimpering.

"Say no more, Frank," Sofia said. "I am just glad you have decided to do something about this. The spirits are very agitated, as should be evident by last night."

"Oh, Miss Arcos," Juanita cried. "It was terrible, just terrible. I have never been so frightened in my life."

"Spirit means no harm, Juanita," Sofia said. "It is hard for them to communicate from the other side, so they have to take these odd measures sometimes."

"But those numbers! What on earth can it mean?" Juanita said. "I swear, I think we need to call a priest."

"I don't know if it is time for that yet, Juanita," Frank said. "But..., I know now that whatever forces are trying to contact me, must be dealt with. This cannot go on."

"I am curious about something, Frank," Sofia said. "Jane tells me you had another call on your show last night."

"Yes, we did," Frank said flatly.

"It was even creepier than the one when got the night you were on, Sofia," Jane said. "The voice sounded different, much stronger. The spirit must be changing as she tries to contact Frank."

"This Jenny is quite persistent," Sofia said. "She is growing very desperate. Coming to me in my dreams, leaving messages in your apartment, and then manifesting to the point she can call into your show — twice! It really is quite rare."

"Jenny?" Juanita said. "Is that the name of the spirit who was in Frank's bedroom last night?"

"One can only assume so. And she was definitely the one I saw in my dream last night."

"Jenny was quite busy," Jane said. "Between haunting your dream, Sofia, and terrorizing Juanita and Rosario, it is surprising she had enough energy to call into the radio station."

"That is surprising," Sofia said. "It takes quite a bit of psychic energy to manifest into —"

"It was not Jenny who called last night," Frank said.

"What?" Jane cried. "Frank, we aren't going to go through this again, are we? I thought you wanted help?"

"I do want help, but, it was not this Jenny person," Frank said.

Jane yelled, "You heard the call yourself! In fact, in all the years I have known you, I have never seen you look so unhinged. I thought that was why you had me call Sofia. Please tell me you aren't changing your—"

"— I am not changing my mind, Jane," Frank said. "I am very grateful Sofia is going to help me, but, I am telling you, it was not Jenny that called the show last night. Didn't you listen to what the caller was saying?"

"Well, honestly, no," Jane said. "I was too freaked out by your over the top reaction."

"Well Frank," Sofia exhaled, "if it wasn't Jenny on the phone, who was it?"

Frank was silent as he sipped his coffee, before he said, "Look..., I am convinced we need to do something, but I really don't want to—"

"—Frank," Sofia said as she reached across the table and touched his hand. "I can see it in your face. What happened last night changed your mind? I know it wasn't Juanita's experience, or my dream. It was the call. Now, you must tell us why say it wasn't Jenny? It's important."

"Well...," Frank said as he inhaled sharply. Trying to lighten the heavy mood, he said, "let me be Frank."

"Oh Jesus," Jane laughed.

"No, I am serious now," Frank said. "I really don't want to talk about this too much as it is too personal, but, I see now that I have to. Sofia is right. A woman's life is endangered, and I can see I will get no peace until this is dealt with, daughter or no daughter."

"That is a relief," Sofia said. "But..., about the call last night..."

"Yes," Frank said as his face dropped. "I will speak on this once, but, I don't want to speak of it again after today." He looked up at the ceiling and said, "all right, Spirit, listen to me. I will do whatever it is you want me to do, but, do not pull that shit on me again! Capiche? That was dirty pool."

"Frank, are you all right?" Juanita said as she reached out and touched his arm.

"I will be. Once this is resolved," he said. Frank closed his eyes and said, "the reason I know the spirit last night was not Jenny is..., I know exactly who it was."

"Who was it?" Jane asked.

"My mother."

"Your mother?" Sofia said. "Did she tell you that? I didn't hear her say that!"

"No," Frank said. "She didn't have to. But she got the message through, though, loud and clear." He smirked as he added, "I can only assume that this mysterious Jenny spirit thought it best to bring out the big guns, and somehow got my mother to come harass me." He rolled his eyes, and said, "not unlike when she was alive."

"But why do you think it was your mother?" Jane said. "She has been dead for what..., fifteen—"

"Twenty. She has been dead for twenty years," Frank said. "But..., two things told me the Spirit's identity. One, my mother is the only person on earth that ever called me Francis, or used my awful middle name."

"Ah, now I remember," Jane said. "The caller called you Francis. Francis Pettigrew Knight. Sheesh, that's a mouthful."

"Yes," Frank said, "but that alone would not have convinced me. Frank is short for Francis sometimes, and, someone could have made a very lucky guess. Pettigrew is a bit more mysterious to explain, but, I am sure it is in the records somewhere."

"What convinced you then?" Sofia asked.

"Something else she said." He closed his eyes, and said, "When I attended my mother's funeral, it was packed at her wake. There were cousins and uncles, a real crowd, but, I had a few moments alone with her before they closed the coffin. I was completely by myself with her in the funeral parlor, so I know no one on earth could have been watching."

"Watching?" Sofia said. "Watching what?"

"Watch me place my mother's rosary in her hand before the lid was closed. I never told anyone about that, not a soul."

"Yes!" Jane said. "I remember her saying that. Now it makes sense what the spirit said on the phone last night." Her face fell as she added, "I don't mind telling you, this is creeping me the hell out."

"Me too!" Juanita said. "Between that and those strange numbers written all over the room, and of course that other call—"

"What other call?" Sofia said.

"We got one yesterday, here at the house," Juanita said. "You remember, right Frank. It was on the land line."

"Right!" Frank said. "And I just remembered something else too. Something from the call from last night."

"What was that?" Sofia said.

"Clickity, click click click! It was just repeated over and over at the end of the call," Frank said. "Do you have any idea what that could mean?"

"I do not," Sofia said as her stomach cramped. She lied. She remembered it vividly from her dream.

"So Frank, what is the plan now? What are you going to do?" Jane said.

"Well," Frank said as he took a big intake of air into his lungs. "The show is on hiatus for vacation for the next two weeks, so, as much as I hate to say this, I think I need to head back to Kentucky. That is where this is all coming from."

"I assume you are going to try and find out what happened to Jenny?" Sofia asked.

Frank frowned, and said, "Yes, but that is going to be difficult. I don't even know her last name, or where she is now. Maybe she still lives in McKee, but, maybe not. If she was smart, she moved, but, it is obvious McKee is the cornerstone to this mystery."

"Hey Frank," Jane said, "I have an idea. My brother-in-law is a Private Investigator. He may be able to help at least know where to start."

"Good. Give him a call," Frank said. "I think we need to do a little prep work before we head back to the rolling hills of old Kentucky."