The Quagmire

Vanessa fell lazily on the immense sofa and stretched her legs. “Argh”, she grimaced. She felt a slight discomfort in her left calf, perhaps an after-effect of the draining week she’d had. Week? Probably months, she thought. For the past eight months, Vanessa had been on tour. It wasn’t just any tour. It was the 360 Degrees Tour. It had been announced almost five years prior to the commencement date. It wasn’t just a tour with any band. It was 360 Degrees. Her teenage sensation. Most girls her age had been frantically obsessed with 360 Degrees since their first single came out. Whenever they held a random performance, a multitude of energetic fans used to turn up and drown out the sound of the band with their incessant yelling. 

Vanessa was a dancer. Ever since she was a young girl, it was what she dreamed of. When she was five years old, she wanted to be a tap dancer. Later on, she wanted to be a ballerina. She had attended the vibrant classes and had come out a great dancer. She then dabbled in pop dance and she realized she was born for it. Her interest in 360 Degrees started in her teenage years. Being a backup dancer for this band had always seemed like a far-fetched idea to her. Adding to the fact that she was nervous as a teenager on her first date, she didn’t pass the height requirements. She was surprised to get a callback from the casting director. She didn’t think he’d liked her very much during the interview. The rigorous training sessions were quite tiresome. Ultimately, came the tour performance. Three months in, she didn’t think she’d make it. Some dancers twisted their ankles and had to be replaced. But not her. She wasn’t going to allow her body to let her down given the time and effort she had put in. She was relentless until the last performance which had just ended two days before. Afterwards, she travelled to the countryside to reinvigorate herself and heal. Vanessa was suddenly brought back to the present by the creaking of the floorboard outside.

The rapping at the door made her scowl. This was one of the reasons she disliked countryfolks. They always banged the door. Perhaps, they presumed everyone in the countryside was old and hard of hearing. “Who is it!” she shouted. She was answered by another loud rap on the door. She paused the movie, which hadn’t gone past the opening credits. Slowly, she dragged herself to the wooden door, cursing under her breath whoever was ruining her quiet evening. She reached for the doorknob and pulled it. 

Mrs. Kean. She was standing six foot tall by the door, one arm up ready to bang the door again, the other arm holding something in a gift wrap. She looked almost the same as she did when she’d seen her ten years ago. She had grizzled hair that ran down to her shoulders and state-blue eyes. Her lanky features fit in her jacquard dress.

“Hi, I was beginning to think no one was home!” she said in a nasal voice. She stifled a nuance which always ensued from hearing the Northern accents. Vanessa forced a smile. “Hi,” she said, as her eyes flicked back to the gift wrap. “No way she’s getting me a welcome back gift,” Vanessa thought. Such gifts were usually followed with forced niceties that required the host to welcome the guest and steam a nice cup of tea while the former was probed about her life. Mrs. Kean glanced at her then peeked towards the vast living room. She was obviously longing to be invited in. “Well, that’s one way to ruin my evening,” Vanessa thought. She realized the evening was crisp already, the last of sunset just a fading pale stripe in the Western sky. She could feel a cold breeze penetrating her loose-fitting pyjamas and meeting the warmth of her blood. “Come in,” she said tilting her head inwards. Mrs. Kean went in her eyes searching around the living room. The living room of the cottage looked like a seventeenth-century room. There were old ornaments placed around the room with a sofa in the middle and an old television set opposite the sofa. This was a cottage that had been in their family for many decades. It was a weather-beaten slat cottage between two adjacent homesteads. Mrs. Kean lived on the left. She had never met a Mr. Kean while she was around there. She also had no idea who lived on the right side.

“How are you Vanessa? You’ve changed quite a bit since you were here last,” Mrs. Kean uttered, after making herself comfortable on the sofa. Vanessa, who had been left behind locking the door, sighed heavily. “Oh yes, it’s been quite a while.”

“Yes it has, for a moment there I didn’t recognize you. I didn’t know you were coming up here for the holidays,” she continued, turning her head towards Vanessa who was sitting beside her. 

“It’s quiet out here.”

“But it’s the holidays. You should be with family,” said Mrs. Kean narrowing her eyes. 

Vanessa was stifling the urge to kick her out. She decided to hasten the visit.

“You’re right,um… is there anything you needed?”

“Um yes,” she said, handing Vanessa the gift in her hand. For a moment , Vanessa hesitated, stretching out her hand. There was certainly a box wrapped inside.

“ I found this today in my mailbox. It was addressed to Vanessa Banks. No sender address.”

Vanessa was startled. Mrs. Kean could read the surprise all too well on her face.

“I was surprised too. No one’s been here in almost a decade. Miss Wilkins down the road told me she saw a light flickering in the living room yesterday night. Miss Pomfrey said she saw a young lass who looked like Mr. Banks down at the store.”

Vanessa started unwrapping the gift wrap unconsciously. She hadn’t revealed the address of where she’d be staying to anyone. She had informed her father and requested him to stay mum about it. Well, she didn’t check the mailbox, so her dad might’ve known and decided to send it to Mrs. Kean. Maybe, Mark, her boyfriend, had sent her an apology gift. She had fully unwrapped it , only to notice Mrs. Kean’s fixed gaze on the corrugated box she was holding. “Might as well get this over with,” she thought. She carefully opened the box.

Another gift wrap. The universe was really trying to drive her up a wall. She carelessly unwrapped the second gift wrap. Another corrugated box. She opened it. A prepaid mobile phone. Why would someone go to the trouble of wrapping a cell phone in such an annoying manner? This had Mark’s signature all over it. He could be quite annoying sometimes.

“Do you know who it’s from?” Mrs. Kean asked nosily.

“I have a vague idea,” she replied. She flipped it the cell phone open and turned it on. It seemed new. No messages. No calls. There was one number stored in it. Classic. This had to be Mark. She still wasn’t sure whether to address him as his boyfriend or ex-boyfriend. She had decided to take a break from their relationship but Mark kept flooding her cell phone with apology texts. She had blocked his number in the hope that he would give her time apart that she needed. She wasn’t ready for his shenanigans. She sighed heavily and dialed the number. The call went through almost instantly.

“Hello,” Vanessa said, in a soft-spoken voice. She waited for the response. “Hello,” she said again impatiently. She concentrated. She could hear something. Someone was at the end of the line. She could hear the heavy breathing. “Mark? Is that you? I don’t have time for games!” she barked. Silence followed. A few seconds later, the line disconnected.

“Do you know who it was?” Mrs. Kean asked grimacing her forehead. Vanessa shook her head and once more became conscious of her neighbour’s presence in the living room. 

“Thank you Mrs. Kean for this, now if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a nap. I’ve had a long day,” Vanessa said, with lassitude in her voice, as she trudged towards the door. Mrs. Kean took the hint and followed her to the door. She had a disappointed look, perhaps owing to her source of entertainment for the week being cut short.

“Well, I’m right next door if you need anything. Have a good night.”

“Good night,” she replied as her voice was swallowed by the slamming of the door.

Hardly had she sat back down, when the the telephone rang echoing in the living room. She paused for a moment and wondered who invented phones. In spite of their efficacy, they were annoying. She picked up the receiver.

“Hallo.”

A momentary silence followed.

“Okay, I’m hanging up you bastard!” she exclaimed angrily.

“Did you like my gift?” came a hoarse voice.

“Mark? Is that you?”

“I have a simple question. Riddle me this. I am not inside your house.”

“That’s not a riddle,” she answered with a puzzled look on her face.

“Are you sure?”

Just then, she heard a thud on the front porch. Vanessa stood stock-still for a moment. She grabbed the foam sword hanging on the wall and flung the door open. She saw a figure materializing out of the corner of her eye and swung the sword by force.

“Ouch, Vanessa!” the voice exclaimed.

“Mark?”

“Yes, it’s me, I tripped over my laces and fell.” He looked at the sword and frowned. “What if it was an actual sword?”

“Why are you playing games with me? What’s with the gift and the weird phone calls?”

“I didn’t call you. You sent me your address. Here it is,” he replied, taking his cell phone out. He plunged the phone into her face. 

“That wasn’t me. I didn’t send that.”

“Well someone did.”

Vanessa could tell he wasn’t joking. Mark couldn’t keep a straight face for long even while playing his annoying jokes. 

“So someone gave you my address and asked you to come here, and probably the same person sent me a burner phone and is prank calling me?”

Mark looked startled.

“Someone is harassing you?”

Before she could answer, the cell phone rang again. They had a look-see at each other then walked back in. The phone was still ringing. Mark picked it up.

“Who is it? What do you want from my girlfriend?”

“Mark, finally, you’ve arrived. Just in time.”

Mark placed the phone on the sofa and put it on speaker. 

“Who am I? I thought you were a good casting director. What character would you give me?”

“Listen here pal-”

“I’m not your pal!” the caller shouted angrily. “ I promised you both that one day you’d wish you never met me.”

Mark and Jessica looked at each other. Jessica was trying to recall whence she had heard those words. Mark could remember all too well when he had heard those words. Months ago, he had replaced Alistor as the casting director. The basis for him replacing her was under false pretenses. He was after all the culprit behind his sacking. Vanessa was passively involved, but she didn’t say a thing. The aftermath was Alistor’s image was tainted. He had made that comment in passing.

“Alistor?” Mark said in a low voice. 

“Did you crack my riddle Vanessa?”

Vanessa was shocked. She couldn’t feel her legs. In all the movies she’d watched, no one ever survived playing the villain’s game. she decided to play her own game. 

“Any hint to help me solve your riddle?” she replied, as she began edging towards the telephone. She was going to call 911.

“Why? Its too easy.”

“Then we’re not going to be able to solve it.”

“But it’s easy. I am not inside, where am I?”

“Outside,” they both said in unison .

“Bingo,” he said and the line went dead.

Vanessa dialed 911 . she blethered so much that the cop kept asking her to slow down. Mark looked around for any sign of a weapon. Alistor might just be outside. He didn’t want to be surprised by that maniac. He started advancing towards the door. He reached for the doorknob and pulled it ajar. He peeked outside. Nothing. He then heard the distant police siren. It was gaining momentum. Vanessa had also heard the siren. In two shakes of a duck’s tail, a police car pulled up in front of the residence. A lean man in a sheriff’s heart stepped out. 

“Is there anyone bothering you? I got a call about a disturbance at this residence,” he bellowed.

Vanessa quickly narrated the events of the day and the surprise kept showing on his face. 

“Wait in the car. I’m going to need your statements down at the station, but let me check the place out,” he said as he returned to his car and opened the backseat for them. He then locked it and disappeared into the house. It seemed like an eternity before he came back and silently slipped into the driver’s seat.

Vanessa was relieved as the car sped down the road. She was determined that the freak be caught, even if it was Alistor. She noticed that the officer had branched away from the left tarmac which would lead them right to the station. “You missed the road,” she indicated pointing to the left . She looked at the rear-view mirror although she didn’t see clearly because of the metal bars separating the front and back seats. A chill crept down her spine. She had avoided playing the caller’s game. at least that’s what she thought. But had she really?