Accidents Waiting to Happen (12 page)

“Would you now?”
 
Bell smirked at Josh’s poor show of strength.
 
“Let’s hope you’re never put to the test.”

“Yeah, let’s hope so.”

“Could I have a drink?”

Josh and Bell walked towards the drinks table and Bell slipped an arm into his.
 
Josh shot her a look of rage.

“Now, now, Josh.
 
Play it cool, we have an image to portray.
 
You don’t want these good people to suspect anything.”

Josh poured her a white wine.

“It’s Belinda Wong, isn’t it?” Kate said, walking over to them from the barbecue.

“Yes it is, Kate.
 
How are you?”
 

Josh stood stone still with the bottle of wine in his hands.
 
Don’t say anything, please.
 
He sent telepathic messages to Bell, hoping she wouldn’t blow the whistle on him.
 
Fear prevented him from producing a smile.

“I thought you were in San Diego,” Kate said.

“I was, but I’ve come back.”
 
Bell turned her head to Josh, smiled cruelly then looked back at Kate.
 
“I miss my old friends.”

“Have you got a job?”

“No, but I was hoping that Josh could help me.”

“Well, I’m sure he could put in a good word for you.”

“Yeah, but like I was telling Bell, there aren’t any open jobs at the moment, so she’ll have to keep looking.”
 
He managed to make his words sound strong and convincing.
 
Not a hint of his fear showed.

“Josh, I can’t believe you didn’t mention Bell was back.
 
You always said she was your best secretary.”
 
Kate winked at Bell.

Bell grinned at the embarrassment Kate brought to her husband.

It was obscene, watching his wife playacting with his ex-mistress.
 
Watching the macabre play was excruciating but relief was soon to come.
 
“I’ve only just found out myself.”
 

“Kate, have you got a minute?
 
Sorry to interrupt.”
 
A woman’s voice called from a group of people nearby.

Kate excused herself and left, attending to the woman’s needs.

“At least someone is happy to see me,” Bell said, watching Kate go.

“Are you going now that you’ve had your fun?” Josh asked.

“No, of course not.
 
The night is young.
 
I think I’ll mingle for awhile if you don’t mind.

“I do mind.”

She snorted. “Well, I don’t care.
 
Don’t worry, I’m not going to tell on you.
 
Your money bought my silence for now.”

Bell refreshed her glass.
 
Josh watched her turn on her heel and strike up a conversation with a group of his friends.
 
What does she have in store for me?
 
All he knew was that it wasn’t going to be good.

***

It was a small room, poorly furnished with an eclectic combination of bargain basement purchases and long held possessions now in a state of disrepair.
 
The room smelled of musty neglect.
 
The telephone rang on the small table next to the armchair in the living room.

The old woman shuffled in from the kitchen.
 
Even this small exertion resulted in wheezing.
 
She mumbled to the ringing phone to, “Hold your horses,” before collapsing into the chair and picking up the receiver.

She hit the mute button on the television remote.
 
“Hello.”
 

“Is this Margaret Macey?”
 

“Yes, it is.”

“Hi, I represent Mutual Life, Mrs. Macey.
 
I was wondering if I could speak to you about life insurance for the senior citizen.”

Margaret got as far as, “I’m not really-”

“Good, I’ll only take a few minutes of your time,” he said, ignoring her.
 

“Mrs. Macey, our records show you are a senior citizen.
 
You must think about having to make provisions for others when your time comes.”

“No, not really.”

“Do you have children, Mrs. Macey?”

“Yes, I have a daughter in New York.”

“Do you know the average cost of a funeral nowadays?”

“No, I don’t.”

“It’s over three thousand dollars.”
 
The telemarketer’s voice rose two octaves in shock at the cost.
 
“Now, does that seem a fair price to burden your loved one with?
 
Does it?” the terminally happy telemarketer babbled.

“Well, no but...”

“No buts, Mrs. Macey.
 
Now this is where Mutual Life Insurance comes in.
 
We will provide for you a low cost life insurance that will serve as a lasting reminder to your family of your generosity.”
 

The pitch was made and Margaret imagined the telemarketer's toothpaste advertisement smile shining into the telephone.

“I’m not really interested.”

“Oh, come on, Margaret.
 
Can I call you Margaret?
 
It’s only ten dollars a month.
 
I’m sure it’s not a lot to ask for peace of mind, is it now, eh, Margaret?”

“I don’t really have ten dollars to spare.”

“Oh, Margaret.
 
I think you could afford ten bucks.
 
I don’t think anyone would miss ten bucks.
 
What do you say, Margaret?
 
Can I put you down?
 
We can do the paperwork over the phone, right now.
 
Come on, Margaret, what do you say?
 
What do you say?”
 

The telemarketer offended her by trying to manipulate her just for the sake of his commission.
 
Surely these people are answerable to some government department,
she thought.
 
She had a good mind to contact someone.
 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m not interested,” Margaret said, her tone abrupt.
 

“Not interested.
 
Not interested!
 
You selfish bitch.”
 
Bile replaced the telemarketer’s sickly sweet demeanor.

Her breath caught in her throat.
 
It took a moment before she could speak again.
 
“What?”

 
“No wonder your daughter lives in New York.
 
She probably can’t stand being near a twisted old bitch like you.
 
Why don’t you just die?
 
You’d be doing the planet a favor.
 
You’re only taking up oxygen good people like me need to breathe.”
 

The vile words burned the inside of Margaret’s head.
 
People didn’t speak to people like this.
 
She wanted to hang up, but her shock kept the phone pressed to her ear.

“How dare you talk to me like that.
 
I’ll report you to your superiors.”
 
Margaret’s voice broke and tears built up behind her eyes.

“Oh, but I do dare, Margaret,” he said, his voice controlled and level.
 
“I’ve been watching you, Margaret.
 
Oh, yes, I’ve been watching you for awhile now.
 
You live in that shitty little house of yours.
 
God knows what you find to do in there.
 
You only ever go out to go to the store.
 
I’ve seen you waiting for the bus, hunched up against the bus stop.
 
Have you ever noticed how the people on the bus look at you?
 
They see you and they think, Christ, I hope I never get to be like that.
 
I hope someone will kill me first.”

“That’s not true.”
 
Margaret struggled to speak through the sobs that shook her body.
 
She wanted to put the phone down, but she was too frightened of what the telemarketer would do if she hung up.

“How’s that heart of yours?
 
When’s it going to give out?
 
I do hope it’s soon.”

“Who are you?”

“Maybe you should be asking where am I?”
 
He let that sink in before he broke into laughter.

Margaret leapt from the chair and tottered over to the window, receiver in hand.
 
The telephone cord stretched to its full limit, sending the table with the phone on it crashing to the floor.

“Was that you, Margaret?”

She sniffed.
 
“No, I’m still here.”
 

“What a shame.
 
I’ll be coming to see you.
 
I want to see the look on your face when you die.”

“I’m going to call the police.”
 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.
 
I’ll know when they come and I’ll take action if you do.”

“What action?”

“Deadly.”

***

Josh crossed the yard to where Bob stood.
 
His overweight friend was the center of attention in a circle of five people.
 
He’d tried to talk to Bob earlier after Bell left him, but two colleagues interrupted him to introduce their wives.

Josh arrived to find Bob at the tail end of one of his jokes.
 
He was a good joke teller although not all of them were in good taste.
 
In his hands were the weapons of a good partygoer, a beer and a burger.
 
Bob gesticulated with the booze and food to enhance his performance.

“When I go down, I go down in flames,” Bob said in a bad French accent.

The group laughed loudly at the joke.
 
Josh smiled.
 
He’d heard that one before.
 
He placed his hands on Bob’s fleshy shoulders.
 
“Can I relieve you of this very funny man?”

The people agreed on the condition that he brought him back.
 
Before he could take Bob away, the group engaged him about his recent accident.
 
Josh underplayed the magnitude of the event and the fear he had experienced.
 
He didn’t want to talk to them.
 
He had bigger problems to deal with.

As they walked away from the crowd, Bob asked, “What did Bell want?”

“She wants to mess with my head.
 
A little reminder of what will happen if I don’t play by her rules.”

They stood against the fence and watched the people enjoying the party.

“Jesus, what a mess,” Josh said.
 

Bob felt Josh’s despair spread across his friend like an approaching storm front.
 
He wanted to tell Josh everything was going to be okay.
 
But he wasn’t sure that would be the case.
 

“Let me talk to her,” Bob said.

“There’s no point.”

“There isn’t if you talk to her, she’s knows exactly how to yank your chain.
 
It’s not like that with me.”

“I don’t think you’ll get anywhere.”

“That’s my problem.
 
You go out there and talk to your friends.
 
This is meant to be your party.”

Josh looked at the crowd.
 
It didn’t feel like a birthday.
 
Well, not a good one at least.
 
He wasn’t much in the mood for fun.

“Put on a good show for everyone.
 
Let them know everything is cool and show that bitch she isn’t getting to you.”
 

“You’re a good friend, Bob.”

“That’s nice.
 
Now get out there, tell some jokes and for God’s sake, cheer up.”
 
Bob shoved Josh in the back with both hands.