You only have your podcast and a camera outside.
At the end of the day, for €1.99, you have the Instent Lekker.
“And for €9.50, you have your new collection, too.”
At the end of the day, you have the passion. Pretty good? Then try the Asia Green Garden or the Nudel Bowl. At €2.49, you have €1.99. Or Mesa and Sane Cave 4, €2.50, you have €5.50. That's good for everyone at the end of the day.
Now you have a lot of money. ID, Buddhist, for all that. Dr. Naisley. While keeping my attention on my current call, I glance over at the new girl, Beverly,
and can tell she's got a tough one on her hands. Yes, I know. I know. She says, her voice of forced professionalism. I told her that she could be real, be herself, that she didn't need to act like they were rules to all of this.
There aren't. Well, except for one, when the phone rings, you answer it. Right. Yes, of course I want to help you. Beverly continues.
Her eyes stare straight ahead at the blank wall in front of our desks.
She knows I'm watching her. I can see it in her posture. So I give her a smile, even though she's avoiding my gaze. Then I turn my head and focus on the desk on the other side of mine. She ain't gonna make it.
“Nucky says, "Norman, Nucky, Nuckerstein."”
He was here when I started, and says, "He'll still be here long after I'm gone." He's probably right. Despite the promise of advancement, I don't ever see Nucky leaving this job.
He's too good at it. He knows exactly what to say in one to say it. His knowledge of geography and history is unparalleled. He once had a call from a woman who said she was in court to Lane, Idaho, which was surprising. After time or more,
they had no clue where they were. That's why they called us. Anyway, this woman is going off about her emergency. A Nucky just interrupts her to ask, "Have you had the tofu scrambled at the wedgehood diner?"
I didn't have to be age dropping on the call, to know the woman probably stopped talking instantly. Nucky got a little grin on his face. Yeah, yeah, try the tofu scrambled when you can. The seasoning and spicy are perfect.
He laughed. I usually get a side of bacon with it. I'm not a vegetarian.
“I just really, really love that tofu scrambled.”
He nodded. He waited. He laughed again. Yes, yes, exactly. Right next to the poncho.
You know where it is? That's great. He leaned in and rested his arms on the table. His focus entirely on the large, bake-light phones sitting in front of him.
I know, I totally understand what he's gone now. Nucky side. No, no, he is. Trust me. If you take that blanket off, slowly now, and look around,
you won't see him or anything else upsetting. Just focus on the wedgehood diner and that tofu scrambled. If you focus on those two things, then you'll get where you need to be. He side again, been cracked a smile.
Yeah, sure. Go for the pancakes. They're great too. Although, if you want my opinion, I'd try the French toast instead. Pancakes? Wonderful.
French toast? Blow your freakin' mind. He laughed hard and loud. Oh, that's a good one. I hadn't heard that before.
He legit wiped tears from his eyes. No, thank you. It's because of you that I do this. Then he hung up and gave me a wink. Today, there's no wink.
Bringing in a new operator is always rough.
The things we deal with, the things that are described to us, the horrors that echo in the background of those calls, the screams, the crying, the begging in the pleading, all of it. It's rough. Just got down rough.
Nucky's full gaze is on me. His eyes, like warning beacons in the night. Tell me there are rocky shores ahead. Steer clear, steer clear. Come on, Nucky, it's her first day.
I look back at Beverly. She's struggling. Her jaw is set so tight, I'm afraid she'll crack a tooth. Returning my attention to Nucky, I can't miss the I know it all look on his face.
This is her second call, Nucky. Give her at least a full shift before you pass judgment. Trade my boy. I am been at this. A lot longer than me.
I know, you remind me every single day. Do I? That's weird. Because it seems like every single day you forget. Except my wisdom trick.
Move on. She'll crack like they usually do. Then there will be another Beverly or Amanda, or Brian, or Timothy, or Trig. Cute.
I'm a wonderful kind, Nucky. They broke the mold with me.
They broke something all right.
There's a clatter of heavy plastic, and I glanced at Beverly.
“She set the handset back into the phone's cradle,”
and is holding her head in her hands. The phones we use are as old school as they get. Straight out of the 1960s. Beigeish, yellow, heavy as shit. You could brainer person with one if you picked it up
and swung straight for there. Stop staring. Beverly whispers without looking at me. It's rude. Sorry.
I say, but don't turn away. Was it a bad one? Now she looks at me, and if looks could kill. A bad one? Yeah, it was a bad one.
She pushes back from the desk and scoffs. Are there ever good ones? Nope. Nucky smiles at her. Take a break if you need to.
You won't miss anything. What if there's another call?
There's always another call, sweetie.
Nucky says, Beverly bristles at the sweetie. Nucky means well. He may look younger than us, but he's from a whole other time. I say, don't make apologies for me, Trig. I can hold my own.
“Nucky says, and sorry about the sweetie thing.”
Old habit. You should break it. Beverly says, then her phone rings. I'll take it. I reach for my handset.
Take that break, like Nucky said to do. You have to pace yourself. No. She grabs up the phone. Emergency services.
How can I help you this evening? I can hear the screams from my desk. They escape from Beverly's phone like the stench of rot, seeping up through old, cracked floorboards. Man, I can hear you.
Yes. Beverly suits. Just breathe until you can calm down. I'm not even looking at Nucky, and I already know that he wins.
I do too.
You just never tell them to calm down.
It's the first thing we tell newbies during training. Telling the person on the other line to calm down is like shouting at a blazing house fire to just stop burning. Beverly's eyes go wide, and she clutches at her throat. I'm sorry, ma'am.
I am. Please stop screaming at me. I am only here to help. The whale on the other end is so loud that it makes me cringe. Hang up.
Nucky says, Beverly shoots him a death glare. No, do it. Nucky says with a shrug. Some can't be held. Doubling down. Beverly turns away just enough to let us both know
that she doesn't want our help. She may need it, but she doesn't want it. That was a dick thing to say. I tell Nucky. So?
What's the matter? Like I said, she won't be here for very long. She's not cut out for it. Says you. Says experience and reality.
I purse my lips and cock my head. He holds his hands up in surrender. All right, all right, reality might be stretching things a bit. Yet, think? He laughs.
And is about to say something when his phone rings. Nucky's eyebrows raise up to his hairline. Well, we are looking at that. He glances at my phone. Been a while since calls got out of order.
There's a look in his eyes that I don't recognize. I've been working with Nucky the whole time I've had this job, and I've never seen that look before. Nucky clears his throat and picks up the handset. Emergency services?
How can I help you this evening? There's no ear splitting whale, but Nucky's face gets serious in an instant. Yes, ma'am. I can help you.
Can you tell me where you are? Nucky nods as he listens. Okay, that's good. A barn. Is it an old barn or a new one?
Nucky frowns, then smiles. Totally understand. I don't know shit about barns either. That's a lie. Nucky knows everything there is to know about barns.
I'm about to turn my attention to Beverly again since her side of the room has grown ominously quiet. But my phone rings. I frown at the contraption. Nucky was right that the calls came in out of order.
Should have been the new girl first, which happened, then me, which didn't happen. There's a lump in my throat from the irregularity of it all. But I swallow that lump down, take a deep breath, get myself centered, and pick up the handset.
“Emergency services, how can I help you this evening?”
Oh, thank God. Someone finally picked up. What is happening? Why is 911 busy? I've been calling and calling, damn it.
The caller shouts. It's a woman on the other end. It usually is. These types of emergencies, unfortunately, tend to skew female.
Ma'am, can you tell me where you are? I ask.
This is the first and most important question.
We need the callers to give us a location. It helps them ground and return to a sense of self. I, I don't. She stammers. I hear her trying to get a breathing under control, which is good.
I'm not sure. That's fine.
I completely understand.
How about I help you figure it out?
I ask. Giving Beverly a quick glance. She's still deep in her phone call,
“even though she's been quiet for a long time.”
How can you help me figure it out? My caller asks. It worked here. No, true. But I've been doing this a while.
You'd be surprised at what I can sort out with only a few clues. She breathes in slowly than exhale slowly. Okay, I suppose it can't hurt. She is 100% right about that. What do you see right now?
I ask. Um, not a lot. Describe it to me. Doesn't matter how small the detail. Tell me.
Right. Sure. Um, I'm in a room. Good.
Is it a big room or a small room?
Medium. Great. Is it a bedroom? I don't think so. It's really, really dark.
I know it is, but bear with me. Do you see any furniture? I think there's a couch. Maybe a chair too. Some end tables.
I see shapes like there might be end tables. Couch, chair, and tables. That sounds like a living room are done. Baby, what I think I'm underground. What do you say that?
I'm raising my ass off. She's not, but they all say some version of how cold they are. How cold everything is. Okay, you're cold. A basement, perhaps?
Do you see stairs? No, there are no stairs, but there is a door. Yes, I see the outline of a door. I hear movement and keep myself calm and relaxed. No need to panic, not yet.
Okay, doors are sometimes good. There are sometimes bad. Let's get the door for now. Skip the door, or is it crazy? It's got to be the way out.
Damn it. This one has zero clue what situation she's in. It might be yes, but it could also be a trap. Do you understand what I'm saying? No!
“I get that, but you need to trust me on this.”
Trust you, I don't know you. But you've called me, remember? You called emergency services and I picked up. I am here to help you in any way I can. But you have to let me help you, all right?
Jesus, is your name Captain Plixie? I laugh. No, it's trig. Trig? What the hell kind of name is that?
Mine, but let's focus on you. Where are you in the room? Are you sitting? What are you sitting on? My ass.
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Can you stand up? Of course. Then please stand up and let's take a tour of the room. Why the shit would I do that? I should just go out that door and get the hell out of here.
I sigh and rub my forehead. She's backtracking. Never a good sign. We've talked about that. Leave the door be.
Right now, I need you to help me figure out your exact location.
“If you want help getting out of there, you have to listen to me.”
Her breathing is even if a little forced. She knows my name. I'd ask her for hers. But that's not how this works. She is my collar.
That's all. If she offers her name, that's a different story. Okay, I'm getting up now. She says, her voice barely above a whisper. She'd found comfort in her corner seat.
I'm forcing her out of that comfort. The first few calls I did this, I felt like the cruelest bastard ever. Nucky talked to me off that ledge and told me that a little cruelty is needed sometimes to snap them out of it.
Otherwise, they'll never move on and always be stuck where they are.
What do I do?
She asks, tell me what you see. I did. But you were sitting down. What do you see now?
“She doesn't answer right away, but I don't push.”
She asked to tackle this in her own time.
It makes the calls last longer, which is never fun.
But it's part of how it all works. There's the couch and chair. Two in tables and a desk. But desk? Good.
Desks have information in them. Can you walk to the desk? Do I have to? It's on the far side of the room. I wait.
Still not pushing. She sighs. Fine. Let me check it out. Thank you.
I imagine her creeping across that dark room, avoiding the couch, the chair, and two in tables. I can almost hear her footsteps. Um, I forgot to ask. But what is the floor like?
The floor? Is it carpeted? Hard wood, tile? I don't know. Why doesn't matter?
Gotta be careful here. Um, it just does. It looks like, hold on. Um, yeah, it's concrete. Okay, concrete floor.
Probably a basement. Sure. Maybe.
Do I still need to go to the desk?
Yes, please. She hoffs, but doesn't respond. I check on Beverly and she's shaking her head back and forth, back and forth. I tried to catch her eye, but she refuses to look anywhere other than the Wall Street ahead.
I haven't heard her say a word in a long while. Nucky might be right. She's not going to be able to handle this job. Checking on Nucky, he's jabbering away on his phone. And sort of smirking.
Which means his collar is probably figuring out their situation. Leave it to Nucky to get them there and record time. I mean, Heather. My collar says, "Supprising me back to our conversation." Oh?
Hello, Heather. I'm Trig. You said that. I did. How's the walk to the desk coming along?
It's hard. Like really hard.
“Why is it so hard to get from one side of this room to the other?”
I could tell her, but it wouldn't help. It's dark. You're scared. I don't know if she buys it, but it's the answer I can give her. I listen to her breathing as she continues her journey.
You got kids, Trig. She asks, "The question takes me off guard. It's out of character for a caller to ask about an operator. No, I don't. I respond.
Which isn't a lie per se." Me neither. I want them. Or I think I do. I'm not sure.
She says, "How, damn it." You okay? Stopped my toe on the coffee table. You didn't mention a coffee table before? I didn't see it until I jumped my goddamn toe on it.
Anything else you may have missed? No, no, that's great. And again, I am truly sorry. I hope your transition is easy and smooth. Like a good morning poop.
No, he says. He laughs and laughs. Oh, I thought you liked that. Take care now. He hangs up in smiles at me.
Then he frowns and mouths. You good? I shrug. He nods.
Hey, there's a finally cabinet.
And also some conference.
“Heather, my caller says, "returning me to my conversation."”
Okay, is the filing cabinet open? What about the cupboards? Open. Are the filing cabinet drawers cracked a little? Could you pull one out and see what's inside?
How does this help me get out of here? Gathering information is good. It's a lame answer, but it's the one I've got. Let me check. No!
Beverly screams and leaves up from her seat. Sending her chair flying back against the wall. Why would you say that? Shit! Nucky exclaims and jumps up.
He clips my shoulder as he hurries past me, yanking the phone handset out of Beverly's hand and putting it to his ear. Who is this? Who are you?
Trick. You there? Heather asks, "I am. I am." I say, trying to focus on my caller,
while all hell breaks loose around me. Oh, is that so asshole? Nucky shots. Try it. I'd love to see what happens.
Beverly stands in the middle of our call room. Her arms wrapped around herself, entire body shivering uncontrollably. My instinct is to get up and hug her, to calmer down, but I'm still on my call with Heather.
Trick. What's going on? Heather asks, "Sorry. Just busy here tonight. I rip my attention back to her."
"I'm not the filing cabinet." Okay, this is where it gets tricky. There could be some solid information in the drawer that might help her. There could also be nightmares inside there, which will not help this process at all.
Slowly open it, all right? All right. But be careful, please. If anything in there is disturbing,
Maybe close the drawer and move on to the cupboard.
What? I say that.
Now I'm more freaked out.
I sigh and close my eyes. Sorry. I just want to prepare you. That's all. For what?
Hunterick? What are you preparing before? Bitch, please.
“Nucky says, "I need your wrath for lunch.”
Tell me your name right now. I'm dickhead. There's nothing in the drawer." Heather says, "It's an empty empty. Not good, but not a nightmare either.
What about the others?" I ask. Beverly mutters to herself as she slowly backs up to the far wall. "If I did, if I did, if I did, if I did?" Shit, she's cracking.
I need to move this along. Check the drawers, Heather. "I am. Don't rush me." "Sorry.
Sorry." Beverly's back is against the wall now,
and she is slowly sliding to the floor.
Her eyes wild and unfocused. "The other drawers are empty too." Heather says, "I'll check the cupboards." "Thank you." "Why would he say that?"
Beverly mutters. "He shouldn't have said that." Nucky covers the mouthpiece and looks over his shoulder at Beverly. Relax, sweetie. I got this.
You just focus on something pleasant. Do you like ice cream? He takes his hand off the mouthpiece and growls.
“"No shit for brains, I'm not talking to you.”
I couldn't give too much for it to be like ice cream or not." "Trick, the cupboards are empty." Heather whispers, "The tone and her voice snaps me back to her plight. Beverly and Nucky will need to handle their own shit." "All right, what's inside?"
I ask, not wanting to know it all. I hear her swallow. She starts to speak and swallow's again. "Take your time." I say, "Which is the last thing I wanted to do."
"He said he cut them off." Beverly mumbles. "He cut them off and feed them to me." "Christ, I hate it when Nucky is right." "He's someone there with you."
Heather asks, avoiding telling me what she sees. "Just a coworker. You called emergency services. I'm not the only operator." "Oh, right, sorry."
"No need to apologize." I suck it up and ask again. "What do you see in the covers?" "Containers. Plastic containers."
Big ones, small ones? "Like for leftovers. So not bins. But also not super small. You could fit up." She gasps and her voice hitches as she finishes her sentence.
"I had in one." "Shit." "Okay.
“Not what I wanted her to find right away.”
But we're here now. So, got her breasts forward." "What do you see?" I ask, closing my eyes as Beverly starts to whimper and whine from her spot on the floor. "Do I see?"
"What?" Heather asks, "I don't reply. This is hers to figure out." "Trigger. What am I supposed to see?"
"You tell me. I leaned back in my chair. Got a bit of a headache, forming. I rubbed my temples with the index finger and thumb of my freehand." "Tell me what you see, Heather."
"There's some rummaging noises. Then a soft, quick pop." "Oh my god!" "Header screams. And I hear something thump."
"Header? Tell me what you see." "I say again." "I don't. I don't want to."
"You need to." "No, I don't. I don't like this any of this. I shouldn't have called you." "No, Heather.
It's good that you did. It means you are brave. It means you don't want to be there anymore. You're ready to leave, right? You are done and want to be somewhere else.
Calling me was the first step to getting you somewhere else."
"I know this voice. I know it." Beverly says, "Heroen voice flat and cold." I share a look with Nucky, even though he's still arguing with,
whoever is on the other end of that phone. Things have taken a serious turn for the worse. This isn't just about Beverly not being cut out for the job. This is a down breach. I'd help Nucky,
but I'm stuck with my own duties. I can see from the look in his eyes that he knows that, too. "Do I have to tell you what's in the container?" Heather asks, "Unfortunately, yeah, you do. She takes a deep breath."
"It's a head-trick. It's a good-a-dum-ed." "Mailer-female." "What? Why does that even matter?
It's a good-dum-ed." "It matters. Mailer-female." "Unfemale, I think." Here comes the tricky part. "Do you recognize her?"
"What? Why would I recognize it? Damn, severed head and the damn Tupperware container." "I stay silent." "Why the hell would I recognize her trick?"
"I can't." "I start to say." "Then pull back and take a deep breath." "Please answer the question, Heather." "I don't want to."
"I know, but you have to." "Please, Christ." "She mumbles. I hear a sharp intake of breath." "Fine." "I'll do it."
"All I need is a yes or no, Heather." "I said, hold on." "It's got damn dark in here." "And the container is on the floor." "I have to pick it up."
"I wait." "And another sharp intake of breath." "No, I don't recognize her."
"She's young.
"Like teens or early twenties." "Okay." "What about the other containers?" "Look at the health and trick."
“"You're not asking me to open all of them, are you?"”
"That's exactly what I'm asking, but what I say is, how many are there?" "I don't know." "20, 30, maybe." "Holy shit. Where is she?" "20, 30?"
"Dear God, that lump in my throat is back, and I have to cough a few times to dislodge it." "Open them all, please." "You're a bastard, trick. I called you for help. This isn't helping." "Trust me. It is. It sucks, but it is helping." "As whole."
"There are several more soft pops, and I hear Heather gag after each one, which is just a learned reflex, an old habit. But she doesn't stop opening them. She doesn't hang up on me." "They're all women, young like me." "She says, "How many are left?" "To, keep going, bastard."
"I want it out." "Beverly suddenly shrieks." "Give me out of here!"
“"She's up on her feet and slamming her palms against the wall."”
"Where's the door? How do I get out of here?" "Crab." "Nucky says, them returns as attention to the phone."
"Listen up, pal. Here's what's going to go down. You're going to suffer in hell. I am going to help
a coworker when I hang up. Both will happen." "He listens. He laughs." "Yeah. Well, good luck with that asshole." "Nucky slams the handset down on the phone, making the bell inside clang." "Benny shakes his head at me and walks toward Beverly as her panic increases exponentially by
the second. "Beverly? Sweetie?" "He says. Don't call me that." "Beverly shouts. What's happening, trick?" "Header asks. An emergency. But it's being handled." "Where's the damn door?"
"Beverly rages as Nucky carefully approaches her." "Just in sound like it's being handled." "Header says, it is. You focus on the containers." "It's hard, man. This smell is awful." "My freeze. You can smell them?"
"I stand up. Very surprised. Very confused." "You shouldn't be able to smell them." "Yeah. Well, I do. And they stink, trick. They aren't exactly refrigerated. You know?" "I spin and stare at Nucky. But he's occupied with Beverly's freak out." "Header? Are you warm?"
"I ask." "It might warm?" "No. I told you before that it's freezing down here." "A crap. Oh, Jesus. Oh, crap." "Header, touch your neck, please."
"I say. Nucky looks at me when I say that. I wave him off and point at Beverly." "He raises an eyebrow. I wave him off again." "Like an egg?" "Header asks. Yes. I need you to check to see if you have a pulse." "What the hell kind of question is that?"
"The most important question of your life."
"I shout." "Damn, okay. Come down." "She says, not understanding the irony of her words." "Yeah. I have a pulse. I wouldn't mind." "Shit. All right. Um, change of tactics. I need you to find a weapon."
"A weapon? Why do I need a weapon?" "How many severed heads are you looking at right now, Header?" "Good point." "Anything will do. The sharper the better. But Header works too." "Well done. I'll check the desk."
"Hurry. I don't know how much time you have." "How much time? Are the cops on their way? You did call them right?"
“"I don't know where you are, Header. That's what we're trying to figure out."”
"I don't add that even if I know where she is, I can't call the cops. I can't call anyone. These phones don't dial out. There are noises on her end, like metal being tossed about." "I found a letter opener. It's not sharp, but it's stabby." "Good. Now go to the door. Open it and get the hell out of there." "You said to ignore the door. Change of freaking plans, Header. Go to the door."
"I have no idea what's happening, or if my advice is even good or not. I could get her killed,
which would be one hell of a first."
"I'm at the door. I'm listening. I don't hear anything from the other side." "Good. Go. Go. Go. I'm coming. Don't touch me!" Beverly streaks at Mucky. "Don't you dare touch me!" "Sorry, sweetie, but I sort of have to." Mucky says, "The sadness in his voice obvious."
"Just hold still. I said not to touch me!" She goes full feral and starts slashing at Mucky with her nails. "Long, bloody streaks appear on his cheeks, but almost instantly he'll over." Beverly doesn't even notice. She's barely aware of anything except for her own panic, her own pain. "I'm out and running up the stairs."
Heather exclaims, "There's a door at the top. It's cracked. Go through and keep going." "I can hear her stumping up the stairs. I hear a door creak loudly. She gasps. What is this?" "I really don't want to know what she sees, but the job is the job." "Describe it." I say and close my eyes. Beverly is still shrieking. Mucky is still calling her sweetie. Everything is a mess. I need to focus.
"Tell me what you see, Heather." "Do I have to?" "Please."
"There's a guy here.
he shot himself." "Dad?" "Oh, dead is good." "Well, not for this guy. Do you see a phone anywhere?"
“"A phone?" "Sure. I mean, I'm talking to you on." "And there it is. The realization I always”
try to achieve with my callers. But Heather isn't a typical caller. I mean, the fact that she
smells and feels and is, um, alive, kind of makes her seriously atypical." "Trigger." "Yes?" "How am I talking to you
“if I don't have a phone?" "Yeah. Good question. I don't have a clue. This shouldn't be happening."”
"Trigger." "Yes?" "What are you?" "An operator at emergency services." "And by talking to a dead person,
um, in my head." "To be honest, I can't answer any of your questions. This is beyond my experience
or expertise." "Trigger." "Yes?" "I see a phone." "Does it work?" "Hold on." "I hear her clump across the room." "Yes, it works. What do I do now?" "You call 911. Someone will come help you." "I thought you were 911."
“"Yeah, well, emergency services is technically for those who are well past 911's help." "Trigger?" "Yes?" "I think?"”
"The line goes silent. Not dead. Just silent." "She must have dialed 911, and someone alive must have responded." "Don't touch!" Beverly shrieks one last time before Nucky grabs her by the sides of her head and snaps her neck. Her body falls to the floor and has dissolved into a fine mist before Nucky can even take a step back. "They really need to vet candidates better. That was not fun. And I shouldn't have to do that even if she has already dead." Nucky says wiping his hands on his
trousers. He looks over and smiles at me. "How'd your call go?" "I laugh and sit back down." "Yeah, so about that." Thanks for tuning in. If you enjoyed this story, be sure to follow or subscribe and share the show with a fellow horror fan. I'll see you in the next one.
