DRAGON (mxm)

5. A Phone Call (Chris)

   My sleep is interrupted again. It seems to be shortly after I curled in the middle of my parents' king size bed and dozed off, soothed, fed and much happier than I had felt in years, despite the burns and my damaged vision. It doesn't take much to wake me up, even more so now, when thousands of questions about the kind, mysterious man who lives in my house are running through my head. I am used to being constantly on my guard. Any noise, even the slightest, would send me on alert. It is a lifesaver, especially if you are trying to keep out of sight, hidden among the branches, on top of a fifty-foot tree, or a vicious, mutated predator is lurking around, looking for its dinner. 

   This time, though, I am truly dumbfounded. I could swear I just heard a phone ring. How can it be? There are no telecommunications. There is no internet. There isn't even electricity. What the hell? I am more than sure it was not a dream or a hallucination. I am not imagining, not after the fabric softener, the coffee and the seasoned, cooked food which were all beyond belief and  yet so damn real. But how is this possible? Potatoes... cabbage... irrigation solution... in the middle of nowhere, after a cataclysm that nearly destroyed everything on the planet... and now this... a telephone?! 

   The decision to stay still and wait to see what happens next seems the most reasonable one. I continue to breathe evenly, lying on my stomach without moving a single muscle, pretending that I am sound asleep. A few seconds pass in tense anticipation and then I hear it again, a distinctive, sharp beep which can be produced by nothing else, but an electronic device and more precisely a cell phone. The hairs on my skin prickle. This is too much for my dizzy mind to grasp. The fact that I am temporary blind does not make things better either. 

   I am all ears, straining to catch the slightest sound. The device must be somewhere on the first floor. I hear hurried footsteps and muffled noises, indicating that Deon is searching around the living room. I caused the man too much trouble. He has most probably forgotten where he left it. A barely audible curse, muttered under his breath, is followed by a soft click, showing that my new, unexpected tenant managed to pick up a moment before the next ring. 

   The greetings are quick and stark, like in the army. I am getting more and more curious. It is totally unhealthy and I am well aware of that, but I just can't control it. Deon talks in whispers. It is impossible to understand what the conversation is about. This whole situation is too odd. I need to know what is happening. I can't just stay motionless, sprawled on the sheets, and do nothing. It is against my nature. So, I decide to take my chances and slide out of bed as carefully as I can. Luckily, I don't make any noise. My extensive experience in sneaking into close proximity to deadly dangers undetected definitely helps. I crawl on all fours towards the nearest wall, feeling a bit more confident in what I am doing, then follow it to the door which leads to the staircase. It turns out to be open. That's good. It gives me the opportunity to roll silently over the doorstep, drag myself across the narrow landing and crouch down behind the solid, wooden railing.

   A sigh of relief escapes my trembling lips when I am finally curled up in my spy hideout. It must be very early in the morning, meaning the house is dark. But then again, I can't be sure of that with the blindfold covering my eyes. I carefully lift it up and stare into the empty space in front of me. There is not even a faint hint of light, no blurry images, just pitch black. So, I am right. If Deon had decided to look up, he wouldn't have seen me, even if I hadn't managed to make myself invisible in my secluded spot.

   "No, Sir," he suddenly grumbles. "There is a change of plan. You can't call me anymore. You'll wait for me to contact you from now on."

   There is a short silence. The person on the other end of the line is speaking. Deon's breathing slightly quickens. Maybe, he is excited or rather doesn't like what he is being told.