Tuesday, January 15, 2019

911! What's Your Emergency

911! What’s Your Emergency – by Peggy Rockey

Challenge Prompt: That Will Not Be Necessary | Word Count: 1200 words exactly | Genre: Fiction
DueDate: 12/5/18



“You won’t believe how crazy it is here, today” Steven mentioned to Paige when she arrived at the office. “It must be true what they say about full moons.”

It was only noon, but the office was already buzzing with dozens of 911 operators talking into headsets, studying computer consoles and clicking away at keyboards.

“Yeah,” Paige agreed, “it’s one of the busiest days for dispatchers. The fact that it’s also Friday the 13th ought to just about tip it over the crazy scale!”

“I suppose it could be worse, though; we could be working in an emergency room.”

“Uh, no way,” Paige emphatically denied. “I can take it when I get a call from someone that’s bleeding to death, but if I had to actually see that, I’m sure I would just faint!”

“I know, right?” Steven concurred. “Just brace yourself, though. It’s gonna be a crazy day!”

“That’s okay,” she grinned widely, holding up a bag of Milky Way Midnight Dark Mini’s, “I have come prepared!”

No sooner had she plugged her headset into her console and settled it on her ear, that her call light began flashing. She paused only long enough to take a quick, composing breath before she pushed the button and invited the craziness into her day.

"911. What's your emergency?" Paige asked, her voice calm and professional. She saw on her screen that the call was coming in from a landline. The map began rendering a street view of a single family dwelling in an affluent neighborhood.

"It's my Mommy," a frightened little voice quavered on the other end, and Paige steeled herself, having learned from experience that calls from children were often the most heart-wrenching.

“What’s wrong with your Mommy?”

“I can’t find her,” the child whimpered, “she’s not anywhere in the house.”

“Oh, I see." Paige put on her most calming voice for the child. “Can you tell me your name?”

“My name is Benjamin. Benjamin Roscoe.”

“Okay, Benjamin. Where did you last see your Mommy?”

“She was in the kitchen.” His voice was a bare whisper. “Mommy and Daddy were yelling at each other and Daddy had a knife.”

“Daddy had a knife?” Paige parroted, surprised by the admission. She opened a new screen on her computer where she transferred the address and typed a quick note to dispatch police to the house. This was standard procedure, and Paige knew it well. Every call from a child required that police be dispatched to the caller’s location, regardless of whether the situation warranted it or not.

“Uh-huh. He was yelling at Mommy and waving a knife at her and I got scared and started to cry, but Mommy told me to go to my room and take a nap.”

“Is your Daddy there, now, Benjamin?”

“Uh-huh. He’s outside in the backyard digging a big hole. But I can’t find my Mommy.” Loud gulping sobs caught between ragged breaths, and Paige had to remind herself to stay detached.

“Take a deep breath, Benjamin,” the dispatcher instructed the boy, “it’ll be alright.”

Paige thought it sounded like a horror story. A man with a knife, digging a hole, and a boy's mother gone missing. Like a story someone made up to frighten little children. Or a nightmare the boy had had. She hoped the situation wasn’t as dire as it sounded.

“Did you ask your Daddy where Mommy is?”

“Nah-uh! I’m not supposed to go outside by myself.”

“Can you go call your Daddy from the door, then? I’d like to speak with him, if I could.”

“No!” Benjamin whispered, fear audible in the young boy’s trembling voice. “He yells at me sometimes.”

Paige’s sympathy expanded, and she sought to keep the boy calm. “Okay, Benjamin." Paige knew she had to keep the boy on the phone until the police arrived, so she asked the next question in the script. "Do you know your address?

“Yes. My address is Two One Free Free Vine Hill Lane.” The address matched what was on her screen.

“Alright then, Benjamin, I’m sending someone to your house who can talk with your Daddy and find out where your Mommy is, okay?”

“Okay.”

“But I need you to stay on the phone with me until they get there. Can you do that for me?”

“Okay.”

“Good boy. Can you tell me how old you are?

“I’m free,” came the reply, and Paige imagined a tow headed boy with arm outstretched and three fingers splayed. She smiled at the image, but her smile quickly faded at the sudden, jarring sound of a door slamming in the background, followed by Benjamin’s sharp, in-drawn breath.

"What's going on in here?" A deep, stern voice questioned. "Benjamin, what’re you doing on the phone? Who’re you talking to?"

Loud, heavy footsteps approached, overriding the quiet whimpering that came from the frightened boy. “Give me that,” Paige heard the gruff, masculine voice; pictured the phone being snatched from the boy’s hand. “Who is this?”

“Sir, this is 911. Benjamin called because he couldn’t find his Mother, and he was frightened. Are you his Father?”

“911? Benjamin! What’s wrong with you?” The voice, once stern with anger now seemed laced with amusement. The baritone voice put Paige in mind of a tall, looming man, and she could well imagine how a small boy might be frightened of him. “You don’t call 911 just because Mommy’s not here. She went for a jog, you silly boy! Honestly! I’m so sorry to have bothered you, Ma’am.”

“It’s no bother. But I do have the police on their way, so if you could just stay on the phone until they arrive…”

“The police! But that won't be necessary. As I said, she’s gone for a jog and should return any moment. Stop your crying, Benjamin, it won’t help bring her home any sooner.”

Paige cringed at the heartless words, and understood the boy’s trepidation and fear. “Really, sir. The boy was frightened. He said you were yelling at his Mother earlier, waving a knife, and when he woke up from his nap she was gone and you were outside digging a hole.”

“Oh, for goodness sake! Yes, we were having a heated conversation, but it was hardly a fight, and I was slicing a tomato for our sandwiches.” He grunted, then, “Up you go, Benji.” The nickname sounded affectionate and Paige imagined the little boy now cuddled in his Daddy’s lap.

“And the hole?” Paige prompted, just as the knock came at the door, and she heard the police announce themselves.

“I was planting a cherry tree in the yard.”

“Mommy!” Paige heard the happy sigh in Benjamin’s voice and the scampering of small feet across hardwood floor.

“Well then,” she said to the man on the phone, “I won’t keep you any longer. Have a good day.”

She disengaged, conflicting emotions chasing through her mind. She took a moment to pop a Milky Way Midnight Dark Mini into her mouth, savoring its rich chocolate flavor and the magic that brought her back and anchored her to the present.

In the next moment her call light started flashing again, and she pushed the button.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

A Garden By The Lake

A Garden by the Lake by Peggy Rockey

Challenge Prompt: Leftovers | Word Count: 500 words exactly | Genre: Romance
Due Date: 11/7/18
Warning: Adult Themes


"When are you going to let me take you away from this life and make an honest woman out of you?" Sebastian asked Isolde, pulling on his pants and removing an uncounted sum of money from his pocket.

"Just as soon as you're ready to bring me home to that nice ranch of yours out by the lake," Isolde responded with the same answer she always did. She was still lazing on the bed, naked torso draped with sweat stained sheets, limbs bathed in sunlight streaming through a high, narrow window.

"Ah, Izzie.”

Only Sebastian ever called her by that name, and Isolde thrilled when he used it. She could hear the affection, the possessiveness he felt for her when he called her by the pet name, and she longed to belong to him alone. Only Sebastian had ever made her feel this way in the twenty-seven years of her life.

“Why can't you just agree to be my mistress and let me set you up in a nice little cottage outside of town?"

"And just what do you suppose I would do with myself when you aren't there?" She pouted, wondering why he didn't know how much his proposal tempted her. How it hurt even more. Sometimes she wished he would just buy the damned cottage and move her into it, knowing her pride would never allow her to ask it of him, no matter how much she denied wanting it.

"You could plant a garden and learn to sew and cook and do other useful things," he suggested with a shrug.

Isolde rolled her eyes, seeing no reason to tell him she was quite proficient in such things. She rose from the bed and strolled across the room, unashamed of her nakedness.

"Sure and I could just see myself, pullin' weeds and shooin' away the rabbits from my vegetables.” She pulled on her dress, hooking the buttons while looking at her reflection in the faded mirror to make sure the bustle hung just right over her bottom.

Sebastian's throaty laugh delighted her. "That would be a sight to see!”

"You could buy me a gun and teach me to shoot," Isolde suggested with a mischievous grin, fantasizing about challenging his wife to a duel. They wouldn’t be relegated to this life of leftovers if his wife were dead, Isolde thought, with irreverence, though she daren’t speak it aloud.

Sebastian read the thought in her face, though, and he pulled her into his arms and held her. He fisted his fingers into her thick, blond hair. "Someday,” he whispered the unspoken promise in her ear. As he kissed her deeply, she tried not to let her heart believe, though it had been lost so very long ago.

Isolde put on her best unassuming smile and pushed Sebastian out the door.

An hour later, she was still dreaming about a ranch overlooking the lake, with a garden full of flowers and hope, when the next knock sounded at her door.