Copyright © 2007 Kit Wylde
All rights reserved, Freya's Bower.
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The ringing of the phone woke Eleanor. Eyes gritty from lack of sleep, she reached for the receiver, groaning in protest. The clock read six a.m. Only one person would dare to call her so early.
"Hello, Jennifer," she mumbled.
"Hey, girlfriend. What's going on? Is everything okay?"
"Other than being woken up at some ungodly hour, why wouldn't it be?" Her gaze fell on the poker lying next to her in bed a testament to her fear. The bedside lamp lit the room, never turned off from the night before, and she bit her lip to stop the hysterical laughter bubbling up inside of her. What time had the clock read the last time she'd looked at it? 3:30? 4 a.m.?
"'Why wouldn't it be?'" Jennifer mimicked her. "I haven't known you for ten years to miss the sound of stifled tears in your voice. So, what's going on?"
Eleanor told her what happened in a few short sentences. Her fingers worked pleats in the blue flannel top sheet. Each pleat became a little tighter with each word that tumbled out. At the sight of her handiwork, she smoothed the sheets out.
"Did you call the police?" Jennifer demanded.
"Yes," Eleanor said.
"And?"
"They haven't come out yet." She rolled over, threw the covers back, and stood. The brisk air assaulted her senses, and, rubbing her eyes, she searched next to her bed for her worn out slippers, slid them on, and shuffled through the house heading toward the kitchen. As she walked by the chair next to the bedroom door, she grabbed the bathrobe draped over the back, shrugged it on, and nearly lost the phone. The plush material elicited a sigh from her. She needed a cup of coffee.
"What do you mean 'They haven't come out yet?'" Jennifer nearly screeched.
She smothered a laugh at her friend's reaction, filled a coffee filter, and slid it into its spot. While the incident still bothered her, distance gave her a little more perspective. Well, if not perspective, at least a false sense of security. "Exactly that. Look. It's not the same as in the city, Jennifer. They'll get here." She filled the coffee pot with water and poured it into the top. "Hopefully not this early."
Jennifer grumbled something too softly for Eleanor to hear her and said, "I don't know how you can be so nonchalant about the whole thing."
"Believe me. I wasn't last night, but in the light of day..." She looked out of the window into darkness and fog. "Okay. Scratch that. With over twelve hours separating me from the occurrence, and your friendly voice, I'm a little better."
An ill-concealed snort echoed through the phone line. "You are fooling yourself."
"No. I made it through the night just fine." If one didn't count sleeping with my poker and the lights on. "It was probably just some kids playing a joke."