The Ninth Caller Ch. 05

*****

"Fred, I think we should pull the ripcord on tonight," Darla said as she walked down off of the stage into the empty club and walked over to the bar. "It is already Midnight and no one is here. I think the jury is in. Tonight is a total bust."

"Yeah, I guess you are right," Fred sighed as he reached up and flipped a light switch over his head. Outside, the pink neon "Girls Girls Girls" sign went dark, casting the empty parking lot into complete black. The Dollhouse was closing early for the night. "Tonight was a total washout; I don't think I sold 8 beers the whole night."

"It'll pick up tomorrow, Fred. I am sure. Weeknights always suck."

"They do, but, really, I think it's this fucking heat. It's too hot to go outside."

"It is," Darla sighed as she crawled up onto one of the barstools and opened her purse. Jiggling her pasty covered breasts back and forth, she said, "even these puppies aren't a big enough draw to get those rednecks to leave the A/C in their double wides." She laughed as she added, "Just too easy to log into pornhub and enjoy some free cyber titties, I guess."

"Well," Fred said as he winked and poured her a beer. "If it is any consolation, those melons would bring me out! Still as gorgeous as the first day you started dancing here."

"You are kind, Fred, but..., hopelessly old school," she said. Taking out a Virginia Slim, she put it between her lips and lit it. She closed her eyes and as sucked in the cool grey smoke, exhaling a loud satisfied groan as a cloud of smoke emerged from her throat. "I guess that is the wave of the future, isn't it? I am sure once they have virtual reality perfected, I am going to have to go into another line of work."

"Nah," Fred said. "There will always be a market for the real deal, Darla. You have my word on that."

"Man, that is good," she said as she took another drag. "I have been dying for a smoke for the last few hours." Glancing around at the empty bar, she added, "I guess it doesn't matter I smoke in here now, does it?"

"Nope," Fred said as he fired up a blunt. "I've been jonesing myself. Ah, remember before all that bullshit anti-tobacco nonsense kicked in and we could still smoke in here?"

"Yeah," Darla said. "You are dating yourself." She grimaced as she added, "And speaking of dating yourself, can you please turn the Duran Duran off. No one is here, and I swear, if I hear "Hungry like a Wolf" one more time, I am going to lose my fucking mind."

"You have no taste," Fred said as he leaned over and switched the CD player off. Instantly the empty bar filled with the sounds of the radio.

"Good Evening, America, and welcome to Night Caller with your host, Frank Knight."

"Oh, turn that up," Darla said. "I love this show! This is a treat, I usually only get to hear the last hour on my way home."

"For Christ's sake, you listen to this crap?" Fred said.

"Yeah, it's great! I love all this spooky shit. Plus, the guy has been on the radio for years. He is practically an institution." Darla laughed, and said, "you know, back when I was in high school I used to go to sleep listening to this show. I always thought Frank Knight had the sexiest voice." Lowering her voice a few octaves, she said, "Well..., let me be Frank."

"That fucker? Jesus! That guy is an asshole. I am going to switch the channel."

"Oh, come on, Fred, leave it on, please," Darla said, batting her eyes dramatically. "I am just going to finish my beer and head home. I want to hear what the topic is tonight."

"I hate that fucker, I really do," Fred said. "Just hearing that guy's voice makes me want to puke."

"It's just a show, Fred," Darla said. "I mean, you don't have to go all psycho on me here." She cocked her head, and said, "just out of curiosity here, why do you have such strong feelings about some guy on the radio who has a spook show."

"You know that bastard is from here, don't you?"

"He is? Frank Knight is from McKee Kentucky? Are you crazy?"

"Nope, not crazy at all. I went to high school with that asshole. Class of 82. Total dick then and..., total dick now."

"I still can't believe you knew Frank Knight," Darla said. "That is just crazy. So, what was he like?"

"Like I said, he was a total asshole. The guy is bad news, Darla. It figures he is a big star now, as the man has ice water in his veins."

"Now I am intrigued," Darla said. Drinking down her beer in one gulp, she rattled her glass. "Mind hitting me for another?"

"Might as well," Fred said. "If I take a look at the receipts for tonight, I may be hitting the bourbon myself."

He filled her glass, and frowned when she said, "So..., tell me. What did Frank Knight do to you to win such hatred?" Darla winked as she said, "my life is so low rent, you are now the biggest celebrity I have met. I have to count at least one degree of separation to get close to a real star."

"He was a standard dick in High School," Fred said. "You know the type. Smarter than everyone and always making sure everyone knew it. But, I really got to hate the guy around..., oh, I think it was around twenty years ago, back in the mid-nineties I think. He really was a total fuckwad."

"What did he do?" Darla said as she scooted up close to the bar to listen.

"I knew the guy's mother a little. Kind old woman, and he treated her like shit. Never came home, never called, left her alone to die up in that house."

"Oh," Darla said as her face dropped. "I had no idea. I hate that you are bursting my romantic bubble about Frank Knight."

"Man, that's not the half of it. You know guys like that, lots of money, think they can just go around and toss some cash about and the world is going to kiss their ass and tell them their farts smell like roses."

"I've known a few like that. But Fred, just cause the guy was a dick to his mother wouldn't cause you to—"

"—No. That is just background. Anyhow, around that time I had a girl dancing here...," Fred said as he paused. "Man, it has been such a long time ago, just hearing that bastard brings it all back up like yesterday's Dinty More Stew."

"Go on," Darla said. "Did he do something to one of the girls here?"

"You could say that," Fred said. "That girl, her name was Jenny I think. I remember her face though, cute as a button. She was so young, and fresh. Tragic case though, very sad."

"What happened to her? Did Frank do something to her?" Darla said as her face fell. "You know; I am hating hearing this. You are pissing on a childhood icon here."

"Well...," Fred said as he grinned. "You asked! That guy Frank," he continued as he spat out his name in disgust. "He was here in town for his mother's funeral. How's that for been slimy, eh? Hooking up with some random babe after burying his Mom. Anyway, he met up with Jenny when she was working as a waitress, they had a one-night stand, and..."

"She got pregnant," Darla said.

"Bingo!" Fred said.

"So what happened? Did he claim the baby wasn't his?" Jane said. She furrowed her brow and said, "But something doesn't make sense. You said she was a waitress, but I thought you said this girl was a dancer here?"

"She was a dancer here, eventually. This all happened before she started working for me. She got pregnant, got in touch with Frank, and he told her to 'get rid of it'."

"Ah," Darla said as she squirmed in her chair. "Bastard."

"Yeah, but, it gets better," Fred said. "She didn't want to, so, he sent her a check for two thousand dollars and said that if she pursued things any further, he would sue her for defamation. Drag things out in court, make her life a living hell, you know the drill."

"That fucker," Darla said. "So, I assume she took the money."

"She did, but, she didn't have an abortion. She kept the baby."

"Ah, man," Darla said as she lit another cigarette. "Twenty-year-old girls don't think so straight sometimes."

"No, they don't," Fred said. "And well, things didn't work out."

"So, whatever happened to Jenny, or her baby? Did she put it up for adoption?"

"I don't know, really," Fred said. "She started working here after she had the child, and I told her that, regardless of what Frank said, he still was liable for child support, but, she didn't listen. She was a good egg, actually. Until..."

"Until?"

"Until one day, poof, she just split."

"She just left? And she left her baby?"

"Yeah," Fred said, "I guess it was all just too much for her. Twenty years old, no prospects, single mother, I guess she just thought she could up and leave and make a fresh start somewhere else. I often think about her. I wonder if she ever got her life straight."

"I hope so," Darla said. "And do you know what happened to her baby?"

"Haven't the foggiest," Fred said. "If memory serves me correctly, I think she was having her mother watch her child when she was dancing here, but beyond that, I didn't ask too many questions. I guess Grandma probably got custody. Probably all for the best, if you think about it."

"Perhaps," Darla said.

"Jenny was a cutie though," Fred said. "Real fresh and nice, a real girl next door type. Guys love that, you know, and man, despite her getting involved with that asshole Frank, she was very smart."

"Ah!" Darla exclaimed. "That reminds me, I have a new dancer wanting to start tomorrow, if it is OK with you."

"Oh, more is always better," Fred said with a wink. "I suppose you gave her the rundown on how things work."

"Some things are best shown, rather than told," Darla said as she winked. "You are going to like her, Fred. She is gorgeous and very fresh. Thank Jesus I didn't have her come in tonight."

"Yeah," Fred said as he held his hand out and pointed at the empty dance floor and bar. "She would get one look at this, and run for the hills."

*****

"And, we are back on the air," Frank said as the jingle for the commercial just ended. "We are talking tonight to one of our favorite guests, and a longtime friend of the show, Barry Stephenson, author of "Yetis among us" and "Bigfoot - America's Missing Link." Frank rolled his eyes as he pointed at Jane and waved his hand in a circle. This was his signal for her to go to the next caller.

"Hello..., is this Frank?" the gravely voice said on the line.

"Yes..., caller number..., eight," Frank said as he looked down at his console and read the details. He always went through the motions of asking the caller's name, hometown and question on the air, but, it was all a scam really. He knew exactly who was on the phone. Jane, efficient as always, had punched up all of the details. Name: Paul Budroe, City: Boise Idaho, Question: Have there been any instances of Bigfoot inseminating a human woman. Frank smirked and shook his head.

Barry was a regular guest caller on his show, and was always available. And always means ALWAYS. He was the perfect last minute show to put on. In the thirty or so interviews Frank had had with Barry over the years, all with listener call-ins, this Bigfoot fucking women question always came up. Some topics seem to never be short of interest. Bigfoot fucking obviously is one of those topics.

He glanced up from his desk and winked at Jane, and she shook her head. She lost the bet. Frank said it would definitely be asked before they got to the twentieth call, and here it was coming in on call number eight. Tomorrow, she would have to bring in the lattes! SWEET!

"So, caller, what is your name, and where are you calling from," Frank said into the phone, masterfully feigning interest.

"Yes..., wow, this is such an honor," the voice said as it began to echo.

"Sir..., please turn your radio off for a minute. It always creates weird feedback," Frank said.

"Oh, sorry," Paul said. "Better?"

"Much!"

"OK, wow, sorry, I am nervous. This is my first time on radio."

"That's alright, you are doing great. So, go ahead."

"My name is Paul Budroe and I am from Boise Idaho."

"Welcome to the show, Mister Budroe," Barry answered on the other line. "You have a question about Bigfoot?"

"Yes," Paul said. "Well..., I don't really know how to ask this..., but..."

For the next ten minutes the entire sexual history of Bigfoot was discussed. There was some woman named Doris who enjoyed the hirsute charms of America's Yeti back in the 50s. Then there were several Hippies who had, amazingly, a threesome with the large footed Sasquatch back in 69. It seems, at least according to Moonbeam and Skylark, his romantic partners for the tryst in 69, that everything they say about men with big feet is true. Obviously, this rule also applied into the realm of Paranormal zoology.

Frank yawned and read his phone as Barry went through the excruciatingly specific, and amazingly detailed reports of every reported female/Yeti encounter recorded. It was not a short list. He had heard it rattled off so many times in the past, he felt he could probably recite Bigfoot's romantic history himself. When he heard things wrapping up, he glanced over at Jane and signaled. It would definitely be time for a commercial break after such an exhaustive telling.

As the promo spot ran, Frank spoke into the intercom to Barry. Even though he was calling in from the West Coast, Barry called in on a dedicated line and sounded like he was just in the other room. Frank said, "I will say, no matter how many times I hear that Yeti love list, I always remain impressed. Your furry little woodland friend sure gets around."

"You kill me, Frank," Barry said as he laughed. "Yeah. It is the bane of my existence. No matter how many books I write, or issues I cover, from dietary habits to possible explanations for this species survival, Bigfoot sex is sadly always the hottest topic for these shows."

"Well, they don't call him Bigfoot for nothing, you know, Sasquahawt!" Jane laughed as she chimed in over the intercom.

"I hope the show is going well tonight," Barry said. "I know I have a tough act to follow from Sofia Arcos last night. That show was amazing. I am sure tonight is a big letdown."

"Barry!" Frank exclaimed. "Are you kidding? The lines are jammed with calls." He rolled his eyes as he glanced over at Jane who shook her head. He knew the truth before he said it. The lines were not jammed. The queue was filled, but, they were not having to turn many away. "We always love having you on."

"You are the best, Frank," Barry said. "So, before we go back on the air, what's the next question?"

Frank looked down at his monitor and saw the stats. "The caller is Andrew Eastham from Phoenix Arizona, and he wants to ask about your upcoming book."

"Perfect," Barry said. "I was hoping to pump it up a bit."

Jane called out, "On in five, four, three, two..., you are on the air."

"Welcome back America," Frank said as the red light lit up. "And we have been enjoying a fascinating discussion with one of our favorite guests, Barry Stephenson, the world's leading expert on Bigfoot, Yeti's and all such cryptozoological subjects. Remember to call in if you want to ask questions. The number is 800-555-6734. Now, without any further ado, we are going to the phone. We have a caller on the line now, so, caller nine, are you there?"

As Jane put through the call, Frank winced as static crackled and popped throughout the studio. "I hope we don't have a bad connection here," he said. "Remember to use a land line when you call into the show. Caller Nine, are you there?"

"Francis...," the voice said. It was a female voice, soft, older and sounded far away.

"Francis? Who is Francis?" Frank said.

"Francis Pettigrew Knight, listen carefully to my words. My time is very short on this plane, so there is not a moment to waste."

Frank froze. It was his name, his full name, and no one had used it for years. No one but...

"Uh..., caller, who is this?" Frank said.

"You know who this is, Francis," the voice said. "I know you recognize my voice, but there is no time to waste on—"

"Who is this!" Frank barked. "I demand to know who this is! If this is some sort of prank, I will hang up!"

Jane jumped at the intensity of Frank's tone, and Barry interrupted. "Uh..., caller, this is Barry—,"

"My words are not for you, Yeti wrangler," the voice cackled. "My words are for Francis."

"Stop calling me that! That is not my—"

"—Oh, it is your name, Francis. The name I gave you, and you have shamed it. You have much evil for which you must atone, but you have a chance. Save my only Granddaughter, your daughter, and you will find—,"

"I am hanging up now, this is a prank. A very vicious and cruel—"

"Francis," the voice said. "I was there when you slipped that rosary into my hand before they closed the lid. I stood right behind you, and although it was very touching, it still won't save you. You must make things right, Francis."

Frank went completely silent as his face dropped.

The woman continued, "I have little time, so little time. My energy is almost all used up. Listen to Jenny, she will lead you to where your daughter is. She will leave a message for you, one you must listen to. You must act, Francis. You must fast! There is so little..., little..., click..., click..., clickity click click click! Clickity click click click!"

*****

Juanita yawned as she stretched out on her bed. It was very late now, almost three, but once she started watching her Telenovella, she always got sucked in. Beside her on the bed, Rosario blissfully was snoring away. As she shifted on the mattress, the little dog growled.

"Hey now," Juanita said as she laughed. "Don't get snippy with me, Rosario. This is my bed, not yours, you know. Some doggies have to sleep on the floor, you know."

Rosario panted and licked Juanita's hand. Juanita patted her head, and said, "You just go back to sleep. I will be turning the TV off soon enough."

The dog yawned and placed one paw onto Juanita's arm and started whining.

"Oh no, it's too late. Treat time is over." Scratching her chin, she added, "Just go to sleep."

Suddenly, Rosario stood up on the mattress and ran to the end of the bed. Her body was tense, and her tail was down as she turned towards the door and growled.

"Rosario, what is it? What is it girl?" Juanita said. Patting the mattress, she added,

"Do you need to go out?"

Rosario's growls turned to whimpers now as her eyes remained locked on something down the hall. Her fur was on standing on end, and hackles raised on its back.

"Damn it," Juanita said as she traced the dog's line of vision out into the hall towards Frank's room. "It's that damn mouse again, isn't it?"

Juanita got out of bed, and placed Rosario on the floor beside her. The little dog was unhinged now, shaking and whining desperately. Juanita said, "I swear, this is completely unacceptable! Well, I am going to find out for myself now." She got out of bed, put on her slippers and housecoat and walked out into the hall. She took once glance towards Frank's room and frowned. Looking down at the snarling little dog, she added, "We have to get that mouse out of here before your Daddy gets home from work."

Juanita walked into the kitchen and retrieved the black light the maintenance man had left behind. Now she was going to get evidence. She knew they had mice, and she was going to prove it once and for all. As she started down the hall towards Frank's bedroom, she glanced over at Rosario, just peeking around the corner out of her bedroom.

"Well come on," Juanita said. "Aren't you going to help Mommy fight off the vermin?"

When Rosario lowered her ears, whined and ran under her bed, Juanita shook her head and sighed. "Some guard dog you are. I thought little dogs were supposed to be fearless."

She walked into Frank's bedroom and instantly shivered. It was freezing cold again. "Jesus, this whole place is going to shit!" Juanita cried. "I thought this was fixed."