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Call ScreeningPercy wasn’t particularly surprised when the telephone rang at 5.42 pm. He knew immediately who it would be and what the caller wanted. It was the sixth or maybe seventh time the procedure had been repeated. Percy always had his lone dinner all prepared and set on the tiny table in front of his favourite chair. The T.V. would be turned on although the sound was muted so as not to infringe on his thoughts during his meal. Time enough for serious though when the news came on at six. But this damn phone call; this was just getting to be really annoying. Oh, Percy knew it would be that same caller, the girl with the slight East Asian accent calling to advise him of ‘the wonderful opportunity she was bringing him to open up his mind to new adventures in reading with an incredible selection of books and magazine subscriptions for less that half the actual retail value!’ How could Percy resist?But Percy did resist. He’d resisted every time she’d called. Every one of the last six or seven times that the call had come in, come in at the same time every evening just as his heated dinner had hit the tiny table. Now there it was again, ringgggg – – ringgggg – – – ringgggg –– – ringggg – – five times, six. Percy, of course, didn’t have call display. Didn’t need call display. He only got telephone calls on Sunday and they would be from either of his two children. Ringgggg – – – – –Percy didn’t subscribe to the "Do Not Call Service" of course, hell Percy’s old telephone was an old black hard plastic 1950’s model desk phone. Percy knew who the caller would be on the other end of that line. Ringggg – – – – Now Percy wasn’t a rude man, he always tried to be patient and polite but this was getting to be too much, this young slightly accented female voice on the other end of the telephone line purring on and on about ‘the wonders of the many magazines Percy could subscribe to and receive right in his mail every month without even going out to the news stand.’ Why Percy "could have his favourite book from his favourite authors delivered right to his mail box for just the unbelievable price of $19.99 a month for a selected number of months!" Yea, it was all so wonderful! Once or twice Percy had even listened to the whole spiel before convincing the waiting female voice that he would "think about it for a few days." Well, Percy guessed, a few days was up and I’m supposed to have thought about it and now she’s back and he really didn’t want to think about it. Ringgggg – – – Percy picked up the damn phone. The ringing stopped. "Hello sir – – ," the purring accented voice started, always the same voice, always the same caller. She never stopped, like a recording or a taped message that Percy couldn’t shut off. Percy let her ramble as he held the receiver in his hand inattentively, selecting morsels of his dinner with the fork in his right hand, nibbling while she rambled on and on in her sales spiel. Percy never said a word. She’ll stop for breath sometime, he thought. She’ll stop when she gets to the money crunch, he knew that, but right now on and on she went. "It was all just so wonderful!" she panted. Percy’s mind worked, worked hard and swift on how to stop this foolishness. He wasn’t about to complain to anyone. He wasn’t about to go running for help. He had to do this himself, he knew that! But How? The female voice purred on in her distinct East Asian accent. Percy was silent. He’d wait. Finally the voice came to a halt. The break time! The money taking time! "And how would you like to pay for this Sir?" the sexy young voice purred. Percy was silent. "Sir?" the voice questioned, more emphatically, louder! "Sir?"Percy clutched the receiver closer, bringing the speaker end right to his lips; took his voice to its lowest pitch, breathed a short halting breath into the receiver tucked right to his lips and whispered a panted, halting question to the waiting sales person,"Guess what I’m wearing?" “CLICK” Percy waited only a few seconds for the sound of the dial tone, smiled a sinister little smile as he replaced the receiver on the cradle and went on with his dinner. ©Allan Denne ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Well – – – I’m a seasoned veteran! A veteran of what I don’ know but I have been putting stories into the word processing program of this damn computer for quite a few years. They’d have stayed in there too but the kids started reading them. Daughter–in–law started telling me I should send them someplace; do something with them, they’re too good to just sit there. Well, they weren’t hurting anyone just sitting there, were they? Anyway, I’ve been retired for a few years now, retired from CMA (Certified Management Accountant) positions in materials management and cost accounting. Spend a lot of time volunteering in the community, Seniors Club, Canadian Legion and so on! Go to a writers group, The Blank Page Writers Group here in Gravenhurst. I’ve read many of my stories for the group, always to great reviews and urgings similar to those my daughter–in–law urges on me. I once called these short writings "silly little pieces of fluff! " Maybe they really are only that! We’ll see. ©Allan Denne ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Well – – – I’m a seasoned veteran! A veteran of what I don’ know but I have been putting stories into the word processing program of this damn computer for quite a few years. They’d have stayed in there too but the kids started reading them. Daughter–in–law started telling me I should send them someplace; do something with them, they’re too good to just sit there. Well, they weren’t hurting anyone just sitting there, were they? Anyway, I’ve been retired for a few years now, retired from CMA (Certified Management Accountant) positions in materials management and cost accounting. Spend a lot of time volunteering in the community, Seniors Club, Canadian Legion and so on! I go to a writers group, The Blank Page Writers Group here in Gravenhurst. I’ve read many of my stories for the group, always to great reviews and urgings similar to those my daughter–in–law urges on me. Kenny Blade has been writing full–length plays, skits and monologues and short stories for more than twenty years. He began writing and directing as a youth minister to allow young people of all backgrounds and varying degrees of talent to share in the joys of stage performance. Kenny’s goal with each of his works is to make the experience of the play a complete one. "My greatest satisfaction comes in that each of the plays that I have written are as enjoyable for the performer as they are for the audience." Kenny has recently completed his first novel entitled "Never Trust Whitey." Add this page to your favorite Social Bookmarking Sites. |
