Maggie's Way

The insistent ringing finally roused me from sleep. Startled, I sat up in bed and fumbled around for a moment before I found my iPhone.

“Hello?” I said.

Silence.

“Hello?”

After a long pause a man’s voice said softly, “Are you sure?”

Confused, I said, “Am I sure of what?”

“Are you sure you’re alone in the house?”

I heard the click as the caller hung up. Wide-eyed and wide awake now, I jumped out of bed, completely rattled.

For a moment I stood there, listening intently, but all I could hear was the sound of a stiff wind rocking my two-story condo, perched so precariously on the side of the hill. I glanced out my bedroom window; it was still snowing heavily.

I turned on the bedroom light. Then, with a feeling of dread, I turned slowly toward the closet door in my bedroom. I summoned every ounce of courage I could muster, and placed a trembling hand on the door knob. I counted silently, my lips forming the sequence: One-two-three! I took a deep breath and yanked the door open.

Empty.

Well of course it’s empty, you idiot! That was just a crank call.

My pep talk didn’t work. Holding my pounding heart, I ventured to my bedroom door and peered out into the dark living room. I took a deep breath, then quickly walked to the front door and tested the lock.

Then I checked each downstairs window.

I walked cautiously to the entrance to the kitchen. Tentatively, I reached around the corner and fumbled for the light switch. I peered into the room.

Empty.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to calm down. But a creaking sound from upstairs drew my eyes to the ceiling. I walked quietly to the foot of the stairs and stood there for a moment, staring up into the darkness. Then I cautiously began to climb the steps.

As I reached the top step, I was startled by a banging sound. Through the open bedroom door I could see an unlatched window, wig-wagging back and forth in the wind.

I hesitated, then timidly entered the dark room. I walked past the bed and reached for the open window just as an especially hard gust of wind covered me with snow. At that exact moment, the bedroom door slammed shut behind me, eliciting an involuntary cry from my throat. I turned to face the door, frozen with fear.

“Who’s there, dammit!”

There was no answer, of course—I had rather hoped there wouldn’t be. I took a deep breath and closed the window.

I cautiously descended the stairs and crossed the living room to the wet bar. I poured a brandy, my hands shaking.

Finally, satisfied that I was, indeed, alone in the condo, I settled under a robe on the sofa and stared out the picture window at the storm.

I’m gonna get a dog—a really big dog.