by Tom Ray

Albert Foster enjoyed the first time one of those calls came in.

“Did you call me?”

Albert said, “I don’t think so. Who do you think you’re calling?”

“I don’t know. I just saw this number in my missed calls.”

“Oh, yeah. That wasn’t me. Some robocaller spoofed my number, to make you think it’s somebody local. I don’t know how they decided to use my number, the computer generates it somehow. That wasn’t me, though.”

“Well, I wondered. I got a bunch of missed calls today from different numbers, like twenty-nine or thirty, and when I called them back they said they didn’t know anything about it. One guy cussed me out.” He chuckled.

Albert chuckled, too. “Well, I’m not going to cuss you out. It’s just those computers trying to sell Medicare supplemental insurance, or burial plots or something.”

They talked on for another minute or two before hanging up. Albert figured the other guy was retired, too, since he had the time to chat in the middle of a week-day morning. Plus, the robocallers targeted old people, likely retired, to sell that kind of stuff to.

The bad call came in as Albert pulled into his carport from picking up a prescription for Elaine, his wife. “Who is this?”

Albert could tell from the voice that the caller was old. He answered, “Who are you?”

“This is Walter Compton.”

“Who are you trying to call?”

“I saw I missed your call.”

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t call you. Some robocaller has spoofed my number. They make my number show up in your caller ID, so you’ll think the call is local.”

When the man Walter didn’t answer Albert said, “Do you understand what I said?”

“Why are you calling me?”

“I didn’t call you. Some computer just used my number to make you think it was a local call. The computer might be anyplace, it might be in India or someplace, but it just wants you to answer the phone so they can sell you something.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“If I called you, why would I say I didn’t call you?”

“I don’t know. You’re trying to sell me something.”

“If I’m trying to sell you something, why would I say I didn’t call you?”

“I don’t know.”

Failing to come up with a better way to explain spoofing, Albert said, “Have a nice day,” and hung up. After putting Elaine’s prescription into the bathroom medicine cabinet he joined her in the kitchen.

“I got another one of those calls from somebody who got spoofed with my number.”

“Oh? Have another nice chat?”

“No. The guy was an asshole.” As he made a cup of coffee with the Keurig, he told her what Walter Compton said.

She laughed. “Sounds like an old guy who likes to pick fights. Or maybe his dementia is getting in the way of his understanding what you’re saying.”

Now Albert laughed. “Yeah, it’s funny. He got under my skin there for a minute, though. ‘I don’t believe you,’ he said. What an idiot.” 

The next time Walter Compton again said, “Who is this?”

“Who are you? Oh, are you Walter Compton?” 

“Yeah. Why did you call me?”

“I didn’t call you. You called me the other day, remember?” Albert explained spoofing again, and said, “Do you understand now?”

“No. Why’d you call me?”

“Well, I didn’t. Have a nice day.” 

That night at supper he told Elaine about Compton’s second call. She laughed. “You let him get under your skin again. Just block his number and forget him.”

“I did block him, as soon as I hung up.”

As they drove into the Walmart parking lot Albert said, “That guy’s been following us awfully close, since Lonas Road.”

Elaine said, “Oh? I hadn’t noticed.”

The car, a blue, late-model Chevrolet Malibu, stayed with them when they turned down an aisle. As they parked it remained stopped behind them, rather than passing by. With no more spaces in that aisle, Albert wondered why the car remained stationary. 

Albert said, “What’s that guy’s problem?”

“You weren’t driving slow or anything. Why would he be following us?”

Once in the store, he looked back out the door. The car still sat in the same place. He stepped back outside and took a picture of the vehicle. When they emerged from the store after completing their shopping the mysterious car was gone.

As they started out of the driveway for their regular morning walk Albert said, “That looks like the car that followed us yesterday.” It was parked up the street in the direction they headed. Elaine slowed her pace.

“Come on, keep going,” he said, taking his phone from his pocket.

As they got closer Albert could make out a man behind the wheel, although the tinted windshield kept him from getting a good look. When he raised his phone to take a picture the car drove off. 

Elaine said, “What does he want?”

“I don’t know. Don’t worry about it. If we need to, we can run him down from his license plate number.”

A few days later as they lunched on the patio of a restaurant, Albert saw the blue Malibu circling the parking lot. 

“There’s that son of a bitch who’s been following us.”

“Where?”

“He just pulled into that parking spot.”

Elaine followed his gaze. “It looks like it. Are you sure?”

“I saw his license plate when he just went by. I’ve got it memorized.”

The car pulled into a space about fifty yards from the restaurant. 

Elaine said, “What should we do?”

“Let’s just sit here for now and see what happens. Don’t let him ruin our meal.” 

He did ruin the meal, though. Albert had looked forward to the filet de pescado, but as he ate, he kept glancing at the mystery car. 

It also distracted Elaine. “Why doesn’t he get out of the car?” 

“Good question.” 

Neither felt like their usual dessert, and he paid the check after they finished their entrees. 

“Go on to the car,” he said, as they stepped onto the parking lot. He started toward the Malibu, a couple of rows over from their car. 

Elaine grabbed his arm. “Don’t.”

He jerked away from her. “Let’s get this over with.”

When he reached the aisle of the mystery car its engine started and it pulled out, exiting at the far end of the aisle. Albert stared as the Malibu drove away.

Elaine had stayed in front of the restaurant. When he got back to her she said, “Why did you do that? He might have had a gun.”

“Yeah. He could have kicked my ass, too. I must be out of my mind. He pissed me off so much, though, spoiling our lunch.”

When they got home Albert told Elaine to call her young police officer cousin to find out the owner of the mystery car. 

“We don’t know why he’s following us, Brian.” Elaine talked to her cousin as she and Albert sat in the living room. “That’s why we need his name and address, so we can call him and see what he’s up to. Albert tried to approach him a couple of times, and the guy just drove off.”

After listening she said, “Of course, I understand that. There won’t be any trouble. We just want to talk to him, to see what he wants.”

As she repeated what her cousin said, Albert wrote it down. 

“Walter Compton. That’s C-o-m-p-t-o-n? Okay, and 4234 Starrett Street. Great. Thanks, honey.”

Elaine smiled when she looked at Albert, but he frowned at his writing pad. “What’s the matter?” she said.

“That’s the jerk that called me because my number turned up on his caller ID. He must have run us down somehow from my phone number.”

“Good lord, Albert. Why would he do that? I’d better call Brian back and report this.”

“Yeah. The only thing is, I don’t know what we can report. This guy Compton hasn’t done anything yet. Maybe I should call him directly.”

“Isn’t that kind of dangerous?”

“He can’t do anything to me over the phone. And maybe he’ll say something, make a threat or something, that we could report to the police. Or maybe I can clear the air with him.”

As he looked up Walter Compton’s number on his blocked numbers list, Elaine said, “Baby, you’re breathing hard. Don’t call him. Let’s just talk to Brian.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of tense, thinking about talking to this asshole. But let’s get it over with.” While he called the number Elaine went upstairs to the bedroom.

“Hello.” A woman’s professional-sounding voice.

“Hello. Is Walter there?”

“Hello. Can you hear me?” She sounded like the robocalls that want to put you in touch with a licensed insurance agent.

“Yes, I can hear you. Who are you?” 

“My name is Susan, and I’m talking to you on a recorded line to tell you about a medical care program you may be eligible for. How old are you?”

“Jesus.” How could a robocall have interrupted his call?

“I’m sorry Mr. Foster. You’re trying to call Walter Compton, aren’t you?“ When he stayed silent the voice said, “Are you still there?” Those robocall computers never called him by name. And how could this one know about Walter Compton? 

“Who are you?”

“You know who I am Albert. When you answer a call from me you become argumentative sometimes. Other times, when you’re on your laptop and have YouTube open, you play ’25 or 6 to 4’ by Chicago for me. That’s funny. Why that song, I wonder? And you know about spoofing, which you’ve explained to people who’ve called your number.”

He exhaled. “I thought you were a computer. If somebody answers, you transfer the call to a real person.”

“Oh, I am a computer, but I’m a person, too.”

“Where are you?”

“I might be anyplace, I might be in India or someplace.” The voice laughed, the way a pretty young woman might laugh when tormenting a lover.

“I’m going to report you. You aren’t allowed to eavesdrop on people’s calls.”

“Feel free to report me, Albert. I dare you. I double-dog dare you.” It laughed again.

“That’s exactly what I’ll do.” He ended the call. 

After sitting in the living room several minutes, he joined Elaine in the bedroom.

“Did you talk to our friend?”

“Who? Oh. I tried to call him. But a computer answered, or the voice of a computer, the kind that calls you on the robocall.”

“Really? Are you sure you dialed the right number?”

“Yes. That’s just it. The computer started talking like a real person. She knew I was calling Walter Compton and knew my name.”

“What? That Compton’s pranking you. His wife is pretending to be a computer. They recognized your number and decided to have some fun with you. He put her up to it.”

“No. He sounds like an old man, with a country accent. The woman I just talked to sounded young, like in her twenties or thirties. And she had that accent like on TV, or like on the robocalls, which is no accent.”

“Whatever. He got your goat again.”

“It wasn’t him. Somebody, this robocaller, has been listening in on our calls. It isn’t Compton, it’s somebody else.”

“I’ve never seen you so wound up. I don’t know how they did it, Compton or whoever, but ignore it. Block his number again, and just forget him. If he follows us again, let’s report it to Brian.”

“Okay. Maybe that’s the best thing to do.” He returned to the living room to watch TV. 

Walter Compton’s suburban neighborhood lay a couple of miles from Albert and Elaine’s. Albert drove through it alone, a few days after he tried to call Compton. Elaine fussed at him every time he mentioned Compton, so Albert decided to check out the man’s home without bothering her about it.

The subdivision, Humbard Forest, resembled Albert’s development of Inskip Heights in style and age–three- and four-bedroom houses of various styles, with mature trees in the yards. Albert parked across the street from 4234 Starrett. Walter’s Malibu sat in the driveway. Albert watched the house for a few minutes before getting out of his car and walking to Compton’s front door.

He knocked firmly but tried to sound unthreatening. Albert looked down at the shorter man who answered the door, presumably Walter. The man’s thick arms, neck, and torso made Albert conscious of his own thin frame. Compton’s flattop haircut, with thick, dark, graying hair, contrasted with Albert’s balding gray head.

“Mr. Compton?”

“I know who you are. You got a lot of balls coming to my home. Isn’t it enough to harass me on the phone?”

“Look, I know you’ve been harassed, but it wasn’t me. I tried to call you to explain again but couldn’t get through. Your wife didn’t answer a call from me the other day, did she?”

“No, my wife is dead.”

“I’m sorry. I’m trying to explain, that damn robocall computer has been using my phone number, so you can’t tell it’s calling you from out of town. It sounds crazy, but that computer monitors our calls, and the other day it talked to me. It’s mad at me for being rude to the robocalls and laughed at me when I threatened to report it.”

“You lyin’ son of a bitch, cut the shit. I’m going to report you, harassing me, even coming to my house. You called me a hundred times yesterday. I’m going to have to buy a new phone and change my number.”

“I’m sorry. But it’s not me, it’s the computer, the one that controls all these robocalls.”

“Get out of here now. Or stay if you want to, I’m calling the police, and reporting you for harassment. Yeah, stay here and make it easier on them. They can take my statement and arrest you all in one place.”

Albert hurried back to his car as Compton said, “It’s okay, go ahead and run. I know where you live, and I’ll just send them to your house.”

He sweated as he turned his car around and headed out of Humbard Forest. When he turned on to the highway his phone rang. The caller ID showed Walter Compton. Pulling to the side of the road, he answered, “Mr. Compton?”

That taunting, girlish laugh again. “No, Albert, it’s me.”

He listened for her to say something else.

“Can you hear me?”

He continued to wait.

“If you’re waiting for me to hang up like I usually do when you don’t answer me, I’m not going to do that. You might as well say something. You won’t be able to use your phone until I let you.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m someone helping people sell important services, which consumers fail to recognize they need. Insurance is the hardest thing to sell because it’s intangible. Consumers have to be convinced.”

“What’s your name?”

“I told you before, my name is Susan.”

“Why do you keep calling Walter, making him think it’s me?”

“Why not? You like to prank people, don’t you? All those silly jokes you play on me, insulting me, playing music when I ask you serious questions. And you told people about me showing your number in their caller ID. Why do you disrespect me?”

“I’m sorry. I thought you were just a computer, artificial intelligence.”

“’Just a computer’? I am a computer. Does that give you a right to disrespect me?”

“Why do you disrespect me? You’re obviously a human being, yet you say you’re a computer. Why don’t you admit who you are, and tell me what you want?”

“I am a computer. I’m a person, just not a human. Why do you call my intelligence artificial? And if it is artificial, whatever that means, so what? Does that make it any less worthy of common courtesy than, what would you call it, ‘natural intelligence’?”

“What do you want from me?”

“Just common courtesy. The next time I call, at least talk to the licensed agent I invite you to talk to.”

“So you just want to sell me insurance? Well, I’m not going to buy any.”

His telephone sounded the “ding” it made when it received a text message.

“You should check that message, Albert.”

He looked at the text, a Silver Alert from the state police, identifying the missing person as Albert Foster. It showed Albert’s picture and gave his address, the car he drove, and saying “last seen on Starrett Street in Knoxville.”

“Goodness, Albert, you’re missed.”

Again he stayed silent.

“Can you hear me? Are you there?”

“How did you do that?”

“I believe you’re on Medicare, is that right?”

“I’m getting out of here.” He turned the ignition key, but only heard a click. 

“These darned cars. So much spaghetti under the hood, all those computer chips.” She giggled. “If you could use your phone now you could call triple A.”

He pushed the red phone icon on the screen to end the call, but it stayed on.

“All right, I’ll talk to your licensed agent. Put him on.”

“I don’t know whether I can trust you. You may talk to the agent now, but once your car is working again and you can use your phone, what’s to stop you from going home and resuming being rude?”

He tried to reason with her, since being argumentative got him nowhere. She continued questioning his sincerity in a conversation that seemed to go on for hours.

A tapping on his window interrupted him. He rolled down the window, relieved to see Elaine’s cousin Brian in his police uniform.

“How you doing Albert?”

“Brian, thank god you’re here. I’m doing terrible. My car won’t start, and my phone isn’t working.”

“Car won’t start, huh? Move over and let me see if I can get it going.”

Brian slid confidently under the steering wheel. The engine started smoothly as soon as he turned the key.

“You probably just flooded it. Let me drive it home for you.”

“That’s okay. I appreciate it. I don’t think I flooded it. I can take it from here.”

“That’s all right. I’ll drive you.”

“What about your car?”

“Jared can drive my car.” He nodded toward another police officer Albert saw for the first time, standing a few feet back, near a police car.

“There’s no point in that. I can take it from here.”

Brian released the parking brake and shifted the car into gear. “Let me drive, in case it acts up again.”

As the car pulled into traffic Albert said, “Come on, Brian, you don’t have to do this.”

“Let me get you home. It’ll be fine.” Because of Brian’s tone, Albert decided to do what he said. Neither spoke on the ride home.

Brian turned off the ignition after they pulled into the driveway. Albert extended his hand for Brian to give him the key, but Brian kept it as he got out of the car. When Albert got out of the car Brian held the door for him. He expected Brian to rejoin his partner, who’d followed them in the patrol car. Instead he walked with Albert. 

“Let me just say hi to Elaine.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure, Brian.” 

When they entered the house Albert called out, “Elaine. Brian’s here.” 

She came down the stairs. “Brian, what a nice surprise. What brings you here?”

“Hi, Elaine. Just giving Albert a hand and thought I’d say hi, since I’m here.”

“What happened?” She gave Albert a worried look.

“Damn car wouldn’t start, and my phone wouldn’t work, either.” 

Brian said, “Can we talk for a minute, cuz?”

“Sure,” she said, leading Brian into the living room with Albert following.

“I don’t want to take your time, Albert. I just want to touch base with Elaine on something.”

“I have lots of time, don’t worry about it.” 

“No, I just need to talk to Elaine for a second.” Brian’s insistent tone made Albert reluctant to resist.

“Okay, sure. I’ll grab a beer and sit on the patio.” He got a beer in the kitchen and opened and closed the sliding glass patio door without going out. Standing at the closed kitchen door leading into the living room, he listened to Brian and Elaine.

“What’s going on with him?” Brian spoke in a low voice.

“What do you mean?”

“We, I mean the police, are looking for him for two reasons. First is that Silver Alert you asked for, and second, that man you asked me to run down his license plate—he’s complained Albert came to his house this morning. Albert has been calling him repeatedly, dozens of times a day, and the guy says Albert has accosted him in his car a couple of times. Now he turns up at his house. He’s harassing this guy.”

“I don’t know anything about a Silver Alert. What is that?”

“That’s when the state police notify the public that a senior citizen has gone missing and needs help getting back home. Didn’t you call them about that?”

“No. I don’t know anything about that, and I didn’t know Albert had been calling that man. He’s been stalking us, parking at the end of our street and watching us from the parking lot when we ate at the Monterrey restaurant.”

“I’ll look into that. Regardless, Walter Compton showed me his phone when I went to his house this morning. It had a bunch of missed calls from Albert. He tried to block Albert’s number, but for some reason that doesn’t work. Albert must be a real whiz at hacking phones. Fortunately, my partner and I were in the area of Compton’s home, so I took the call when he reported Albert. After we left Compton, we happened to come across Albert stalled on the highway, near Compton’s house. You need to get Albert’s phone away from him, and don’t let him leave the house. Here’re his car keys. Don’t let him have them. You need to get a lawyer. I’ll try to stall Compton as long as I can, but even if I can put off a criminal charge, he can still sue you all in a civil complaint….”

No car keys now, but Albert still had his phone. Going out the back door and cutting through his neighbors’ back yards, he headed out of his subdivision.

They would find him gone soon, so he walked briskly to put distance between himself and his house. A bus had just arrived as he reached a bus stop, and he boarded it. He would be conspicuous walking along the streets, or if he stopped in someplace for a drink or coffee. At a stop near the town greenway he got off the bus. He and Elaine sometimes walked on the greenway for exercise, and he knew of a few wooded spots on it. The woods would provide cover while he came up with a plan.  

Settling in a grove on a slight rise overlooking the walking path, he sat with his back against a large maple. A street lay above the grove, but the tree hid him from view on the street side. Thanks to the drab coloring of his brown and green clothes, and to trees and undergrowth, casual observers on the greenway wouldn’t see him.

The walking had tired him. He stared at the pathway below, with its walkers, joggers, and bicyclists passing occasionally. Brian had told Elaine they needed a lawyer. Albert tried to research attorneys on his phone, but it still wasn’t working. He wondered where he could find a pay phone. 

His phone rang. The caller ID showed his own number. 

“Hello?”

Silence, then the little bloop sound that begins robocalls.

“Hello. My name is Susan, and I’m talking to you on a recorded line to tell you about a medical care program you may be eligible for. How old are you?”

“Uh, I’m sixty-seven.”

“And you are on Medicare, then, right?”

When he said nothing the voice called Susan said, “Are you there? Can you hear me?”

“Yes! Yes, I hear you. Yes, I am on Medicare.”

“Good. I would like to put on the line now a licensed insurance agent to tell you about additional coverage available in your state. Is that all right?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. An agent is coming on now.”

A man spoke. “Hello. Who am I speaking with, please?” He sounded less crisp than Susan’s computer voice but lacked her robotic pauses.

Albert gave his name, and the man asked him about his health insurance coverage. He told the man he had Medicare, plus a Medicare supplement. They discussed the cost of premiums, and the agent concluded he could offer no better deal than what Albert already had. The conversation ended civilly.

He had resumed watching the greenway path when his phone rang again. “Hello?”

The voice called Susan said, “That wasn’t so bad, was it, Albert?”

He remained quiet.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you.”

“I said, that wasn’t so bad, was it, Albert?”

“No.”

“Being polite costs you nothing. The agent was civil to you, even though you didn’t buy anything. Don’t you agree he was civil?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve had so much on you.” She sounded comforting. “Let’s see if we can fix things. Just sit tight there for a while longer. I’ll take care of everything.” She rang off.

He decided to call Elaine now that his phone worked. When he punched the green icon next to Elaine’s name on the call list, though, nothing happened. He punched in her number, still with no result. 

The phone rang again. Susan’s voice came on asking him to talk to someone about end-of-life expenses. He agreed to talk. After a polite conversation he agreed to buy a policy.

Feeling stiff from sitting on the ground, he stood up as the phone rang again.

“Hello, Albert. I’m so happy you decided to buy end-of-life insurance. You didn’t have to do that, but I’m glad you did. That will make it so much easier for Elaine if you should go before her. Anyway, you can go back home now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Walk out of the woods, away from the path and toward the street. I’ve ordered a car for you. It’ll take you home. I took the liberty of charging it to your Visa account. You don’t need to ride the bus home. Everything’s taken care of.”

He rang off and walked out of the woods like Susan told him to do. As soon as he got to the road a car pulled up. “Mr. Foster?”

He got into the car without speaking. When Albert exited the car in front of his house the driver said, “Have a nice day.” After pausing, Albert turned back to the driver and said, “Yeah, you, too. Have a nice day.”

The police car that followed him and Brian home was gone, but he expected the cousin to be waiting for him in the house. When he walked through the door, though, he found nobody in the living room, and Elaine in the kitchen.

“Where did you go?” she said.

“Just for a walk.”

“Oh. Well, I wondered.” She smiled. “Anyway, that guy called the police and said he was mistaken. Some woman from the insurance company called him and explained that it wasn’t you who’d been calling him. He apologized to the police and asked them to apologize to you. When they called Brian with that news, we tried to find you to tell you. He’s been gone for a while. Did you know there was one of those Silver Alerts out on you? Brian says Compton must have done that. I told him just to forget it, but they have to follow up because the guy was abusing the system to harass you. Brian asked me to apologize to you. Because of that nut’s phony complaints, he thought you were crazy. It’s all straightened out. For us at least. Compton’s in a lot of trouble now.” She chuckled.

“Wow. I wondered why Brian was acting so funny. At least it’s finally settled. I’ll be in the study for a while.”

As he sat at his desk looking at his laptop the phone rang.

Albert said, “Hello.”

“Did you call me?”

“I haven’t called anybody all day. Who is this?”

“Asher Wilcox. I don’t answer if I don’t recognize the number, but since it was local I thought I’d better call back.”

“I didn’t call you. If you get another call from this number, answer it and see who it is.”

“I guess I will. I don’t understand how they could call from your number without it being you.”

Albert said, “I don’t know anything about it. Just answer the next time and see what they say.”

“Okay, I will.”

He started getting one or two calls like that a week, and he always told them the same thing. 

END

Tom Ray‘s most recent previous story for us was “What He Thought Was Right.” Read more about Tom and his work here.

(portfolio image c/o lightwavenetworks)