Calling Mr. Nelson Pugh ✔️

*** FIVE ***

The fear flooded back. Damn it. There had to be a rational explanation.

"No. It's your cell phone," I said, fighting back the incoming rush of panic, desperately seeking to stay afloat. "No mistake. I have you on call waiting right now."

I glanced down. The screen had returned to the usual call screen with its assorted options. The other call had stopped.

"Or I did. I have three voicemails of you pocket-dialing me. I'm probably about to have another."

"Nelson, I haven't seen my phone since I called from the restaurant. I probably lost it. I checked the car, but it's not there and the restaurant's already closed up for the evening. I'm going to call in the morning. Besides, I'm in bed. There is no way I'm pocket-dialing you right now."

"So how are you calling me?" No doubt. The fear broke through and every second it grew exponentially.

"Maybe someone found my phone. Maybe they're trying to return it?"

She had always been the more rational of the two of us. Somehow she managed to stay grounded no matter how far I let my mind run wild. Yet, she was wrong this time. I knew it. Nothing that she could say had any chance of calming me.

"And they are calling me instead of the house line?"

"Why not? You're my first contact. You're listed as Husband. That's who you'd call."

It made some sense, but it didn't explain the messages, the noise, the –-

-- suddenly my stomach dropped. All of me dropped. The panic overwhelmed me, stronger than any I had ever felt. I had heard Eleanor. On the second voicemail that had been her voice in the background, and my daughters' voices. If she hadn't placed those calls, then someone else had.

"Check on the girls, Eleanor. Check on the girls, now."

"I've seen this movie, dear. It's not funny."

"I'm serious. I heard you. It was your voice. Check on the girls." How could I convince her? How could I get her to move right then? I needed time to think, but there was none. Onward.

"Please, Eleanor. I heard you. I heard them."

"You're not making sense."

She was right. I wasn't making sense, but, but nothing made sense. I had heard Eleanor on the phone, on the voicemail from her cell. Her voice had been in the background, muffled, then clearer. The panic hit into overload. My breathing sped up, and my fingers twitched. Soon the sweats would start.

"You have to check on the girls, right now. Now!"

She didn't answer. I heard Lilo barking downstairs, a high-pitched puppy bark. I could picture her in her playpen, bouncing and barking in happy loops. She always jumped like that for attention; always when she saw... when she saw someone at the door.

"Elly?! Are you there?"

"Sorry. Someone's knocking."

Never in my life had my panic felt so justified as it did in that moment. She couldn't answer that door. Not that night. I knew deep down that if she did, then I would never speak to her again.

"Don't answer it."

"It's probably just Mrs. Kelly next door, locked out again."

"You don't know that. You have to listen. I heard you on the phone. I heard the girls. Someone has your phone! Someone is there! Someone is watching you!"

"Nelson, calm down. You're having a panic attack. You're going to hyperventilate." She was right on both counts, but I didn't care.

"Great. Stay on the phone. Talk me down."

"I can't do this every time," she said. "This is why I asked you to see Dr. Smith." It went something like that. I don't know. I had stopped listening. I knew I was missing something. Think... think – crap!

I remembered it. Concern. Before the door.

"No. Not me. Forget me." My breathing quickened. It would be a miracle if she could understand me through the panting. Too fast. Take in some air. Keep going.

"Check on the girls," I continued. A reason... need a reason. I had to find some way to convince her; and that was when it began. The panic in overdrive, the wave of anxiety hit. That was my moment. If I could catch that wave, I could ride it in. I could let my mental autopilot take over and just maybe I could guide my wife through this – I could make her see the danger that I saw.

"The dog and the door." Damn. Complete thoughts. Not there. My breathing too fast. Too rapid now. Had to try. Slow it down.

I jumped back in. "They probably woke up. Check them."

"Nelson, I'll be just a minute. I'll check outside before I open the door. Do that exercise that you do. Breathe in, count, and calm down."

"No. Forget Mrs. Kelly. Let her bother a different neighbor."

Nothing.

"Elly!"

Too late. She had put down the receiver and left. I couldn't do anything but wait. I had failed.