Midnight "Crisis"
It was 1:30am. I was in that state between deep sleep and consciousness. I heard the phone ring, but faintly. It seemed like it came from a cave, the ring sounded hollow and far.
But the ringing got louder, until it got too loud that I jolted up from my bed. It wasn’t a dream. Our phone was indeed ringing, slicing through the stillness of the night.
I’ve had too many incidents like this in the past 2-3 years – from when my mother was fighting her life due to breast cancer, and later on, my father having his own medical crisis as well. So, hearing the phone ring in the middle of the night brought back the all too familiar feeling of doom. Fear flooded my soul in an instant. My heart began to pound so heavy in my chest, like someone beating my bosom with a 2x4 piece of wood. My thoughts are immediately with my father in the Philippines. Whatever it is, I prayed quickly “Lord, I hope it’s nothing serious.”
I jumped out of the bedroom, made my way to the next room, all while blindly groping both for the light switch and the phone at the same time. The room next to ours is a guest-room-turned-home-office. We don’t keep a phone extension inside our bedroom. Like I said, I’ve had too many emergency calls in the middle of the night before that I don’t want my husband to anymore be unnecessarily disturbed. One person in the family stressed out is enough.
Anyway, the phone was on its 4th ring, I believe. I hurried to pick it up, but alas, I was too late. The ringing stopped. I checked the caller I.D. immediately and found out that the call wasn’t from the Philippines. Whew. I heaved a sigh of big relief, but the adrenalin was still rushing within me, and I could still feel my heart like a horse racing in the Kentucky derby. But wait, I know the person. The caller ID says the call came from a Filipina friend, the pastor’s wife in a Miami Filipino church, as a matter of fact. Then I though, it must be an emergency, otherwise, she wouldn’t be calling me in this unholy hour. Maybe she needs prayer, so I have to call her back.
And call her back I did. The phone rang on the other line, and it was picked up by a gentleman.
“Hello.” Oh good, it’s the husband, Pastor C, I thought.
“Good evening, Pastor C…Pwede makausap si R? Tumawag kasi siya kanina, eh” (May I speak with R? She called me earlier.)
“Hah? Who are you calling?” Then I realized, the man had a heavy accent – a Latino, no doubt. From what Latin American country, I cannot tell.
“Is this 786-287- _ _ _ _? My brows are furrowed in confusion. The people I’m calling are supposedly Filipinos. So why is this Latino guy answering the call?
“Eh… (thinking)… yes.” The man on the other line said, but he sounded unsure.
“Oh, I apologize. I must have dialed the wrong number. I’m sorry. Good night”. Then I hung up. Dang! Let me check the number again. In the meantime, my heart is still pounding, but not as bad anymore.
I just woke up, and it’s a big possibility that I may have messed up the numbers when I dialed. (To be honest, I think I’m also a bit dyslexic sometimes.). Besides, if someone needs me, I want to be able to help. What if someday the situation is reversed and it’s me who needs help? (God forbid) I want somebody to be there for me too!
I checked the caller ID for the 2nd time. I had the right number!!! That’s weird. Anyhow, I decided to call again. So I dialed, making sure this time that I hit the right button.
“… ello” Now that accent is familiar. It’s the same guy. Oh no!
My impulse was to hang up immediately without saying a word, but that would be rude. I hate that. So, I said with hesitation, “Hello, good evening. Is R there?”
“Oh, it’s you again. Hehehe. What’s wrong with you?!” The man said in a heavy accent, with a slight hint of irritation.
“I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I got a call from this number earlier. The caller ID is from a person I know. I thought there might be an emergency. That’s why I called back”. The man’s English was not that good. So, I spoke real slow, enunciating every word to make sure he understands me.
“Ahhh… what this number again? He asked. I gave him our phone number.
“Ahhhh… I call earlier. But I call wrong number.” Dang!
“Oh, so you were the one who woke me up. And here I am thinking it was an emergency call from a friend”. Without warning, the words flowed out of my mouth sarcastically.
Then the man said “I’m sorry. I call wrong number.”
“Ok. Thank you.” Then I hung up.
I got back to bed. My husband was sleeping like a log, completely oblivious to the world. While I was now totally awake.
I so wanted to kill that man. :oP
But the ringing got louder, until it got too loud that I jolted up from my bed. It wasn’t a dream. Our phone was indeed ringing, slicing through the stillness of the night.
I’ve had too many incidents like this in the past 2-3 years – from when my mother was fighting her life due to breast cancer, and later on, my father having his own medical crisis as well. So, hearing the phone ring in the middle of the night brought back the all too familiar feeling of doom. Fear flooded my soul in an instant. My heart began to pound so heavy in my chest, like someone beating my bosom with a 2x4 piece of wood. My thoughts are immediately with my father in the Philippines. Whatever it is, I prayed quickly “Lord, I hope it’s nothing serious.”
I jumped out of the bedroom, made my way to the next room, all while blindly groping both for the light switch and the phone at the same time. The room next to ours is a guest-room-turned-home-office. We don’t keep a phone extension inside our bedroom. Like I said, I’ve had too many emergency calls in the middle of the night before that I don’t want my husband to anymore be unnecessarily disturbed. One person in the family stressed out is enough.
Anyway, the phone was on its 4th ring, I believe. I hurried to pick it up, but alas, I was too late. The ringing stopped. I checked the caller I.D. immediately and found out that the call wasn’t from the Philippines. Whew. I heaved a sigh of big relief, but the adrenalin was still rushing within me, and I could still feel my heart like a horse racing in the Kentucky derby. But wait, I know the person. The caller ID says the call came from a Filipina friend, the pastor’s wife in a Miami Filipino church, as a matter of fact. Then I though, it must be an emergency, otherwise, she wouldn’t be calling me in this unholy hour. Maybe she needs prayer, so I have to call her back.
And call her back I did. The phone rang on the other line, and it was picked up by a gentleman.
“Hello.” Oh good, it’s the husband, Pastor C, I thought.
“Good evening, Pastor C…Pwede makausap si R? Tumawag kasi siya kanina, eh” (May I speak with R? She called me earlier.)
“Hah? Who are you calling?” Then I realized, the man had a heavy accent – a Latino, no doubt. From what Latin American country, I cannot tell.
“Is this 786-287- _ _ _ _? My brows are furrowed in confusion. The people I’m calling are supposedly Filipinos. So why is this Latino guy answering the call?
“Eh… (thinking)… yes.” The man on the other line said, but he sounded unsure.
“Oh, I apologize. I must have dialed the wrong number. I’m sorry. Good night”. Then I hung up. Dang! Let me check the number again. In the meantime, my heart is still pounding, but not as bad anymore.
I just woke up, and it’s a big possibility that I may have messed up the numbers when I dialed. (To be honest, I think I’m also a bit dyslexic sometimes.). Besides, if someone needs me, I want to be able to help. What if someday the situation is reversed and it’s me who needs help? (God forbid) I want somebody to be there for me too!
I checked the caller ID for the 2nd time. I had the right number!!! That’s weird. Anyhow, I decided to call again. So I dialed, making sure this time that I hit the right button.
“… ello” Now that accent is familiar. It’s the same guy. Oh no!
My impulse was to hang up immediately without saying a word, but that would be rude. I hate that. So, I said with hesitation, “Hello, good evening. Is R there?”
“Oh, it’s you again. Hehehe. What’s wrong with you?!” The man said in a heavy accent, with a slight hint of irritation.
“I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I got a call from this number earlier. The caller ID is from a person I know. I thought there might be an emergency. That’s why I called back”. The man’s English was not that good. So, I spoke real slow, enunciating every word to make sure he understands me.
“Ahhh… what this number again? He asked. I gave him our phone number.
“Ahhhh… I call earlier. But I call wrong number.” Dang!
“Oh, so you were the one who woke me up. And here I am thinking it was an emergency call from a friend”. Without warning, the words flowed out of my mouth sarcastically.
Then the man said “I’m sorry. I call wrong number.”
“Ok. Thank you.” Then I hung up.
I got back to bed. My husband was sleeping like a log, completely oblivious to the world. While I was now totally awake.
I so wanted to kill that man. :oP
Comments
Well, look on the bright side...at least it wasn't some kind of terrible emergency!