The Obscene Caller

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    THE OBSCENE CALLER

    By Diana Altman

    When Jonathan and I were first married, we lived in an apartment near Boston. My father

    had died and left me just enough money to quit my job teaching and begin what I hoped would

    be a writing career. To supplement income from freelance work, I was a private tutor. My

    Japanese students had returned to Kyoto so I was running an ad again in the Boston Phoenix.

    Each morning Jonathan drove his Saab to Brookline where he was an architect in a small

    firm. I fed our cats, then sat down at my desk. Discouraged by the rejection slips that arrived like

    bad smells, I had decided to take everyones advice and write a dirty book. Sex sells, they all

    said. The problem was overcoming my own modesty and writing down things that would make

    me die of shame if read by my in-laws. Usually I took the phone off the hook and kept it

    disconnected until Id finished working but since my tutoring ad was running I wanted to be

    available. Nowadays we have so many options with telephones but back in the 1970s we just

    didnt. Even answering machines were rare. My friends knew not to call during the morning so

    when the phone rang I hoped it would be someone needing English lessons.

    Miss Dutelle?

    Yes?It was a pleasant young mans voice.

    Will you watch me masturbate?

    My stomach flipped over. Could my thoughts while writing have been projected into the

    world? Who is this?

    Bill Stanley.

    No. Couldnt be. I knew Bill Stanley. He was in my class when I taught seventh grade, a

    skinny little kid who hoped to make himself look more developed by wearing a pack of

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    Marlboros rolled into the sleeve of his tee shirt. It was touching to see his toothpick bicep.

    Always disorganized, I sat with him one afternoon arranging his three-ring notebook, separating

    his math notes from social studies, sorting homework papers according to subject. How old

    would he be now? Sixteen? I could see him surrounded by other young punks guffawing with

    their palms over their mouths. How could he do this to me, me who helped him understand that a

    short story is not just retelling last nights television show. This is the saddest phone call I ever

    got, I said and hung up. Heart pounding, I went back to my desk. Now where was I? The girl

    was in the bedroom with...brrringgg! Maybe this would be a new student. Hello?

    Well, will you?

    I slammed the phone down. It rang again and I stood there waiting to see how long the

    moron on the other end would let it ring. If I took the phone off the hook then prospective clients

    would continue getting a busy signal and theyd give up. The phone was still ringing as I put on

    my coat and went out the door.

    Picking items off the shelf at the health food store, I imagined confronting Bill Stanley.

    Id go to the high school where he was surely failing every subject, walk into the remedial

    reading class and say in front of everyone, Here I am, Bill, come to watch you.

    Jonathan did not believe a former student would call after three years. Maybe Ive put

    myself in touch with all the scurviness in the world by spending time writing a dirty book, I

    said. Jonathan read the chapters and said he didnt think the book was all that dirty. I wondered if

    I was more sheltered than I realized.

    It was the blustery time of year when people from other states wonder why anyone would

    live in New England. Gray every day, skeleton trees, slushy streets. It was already dark at four in

    the afternoon. I was still smarting from the phone call of the week before, hurt that Billy would

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    want to disgust and scare me. Id felt so motherly toward him when he showed up in my

    homeroom after school. At the same time I kept imagining scenes of revenge. If that little brat

    ever called again, Id fix him. Id catch him and punish him. Through the window I could see

    lights come on in the house across the street. Someone came to the window and pulled down the

    shade.Brrringgg!

    Hello?

    Will you watch me masturbate?

    Ha! Here was my chance. Id teach that little creep to mess with me. If he thought being

    sent out to the hall for disturbing the class was bad, he hadnt seen anything yet. Who is this?

    Bill Stanley.

    Do I know you?

    Silence. Then, No. I dont think so.

    Then how do you know me?

    I dont.

    Then how did you get my name and my telephone number?

    You really want to know?

    Yes, I do.

    Should I tell you?

    Yes, you should. He would make up some stupid story and Id say you can do better

    than that, Billy.

    Out of the paper. You advertised as a tutor. He heard the sharp intake of breath hed

    been hoping for. Well, will you?

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    Id put my surname in the paper as I always did. Call Miss Dutelle. Here was a coward

    alone somewhere with the phone to his ear attacking me from the shadows. I was in the shadows

    too, as far as he was concerned. Two hidden beings. Did he think he was smarter than I am? Did

    he think he was stronger? What would be the exact thing that would scramble his brains? Sure,

    I said. Where should we meet? Now it was my turn to be rewarded by stunned silence.

    Where do you live?

    Why should I tell you?

    Because I want to know.

    Tough luck. Im not telling.

    Well, he said, do you really want to watch me?

    I would schedule a rendezvous, phone the police, and wed pounce on him. Why do you

    want me to watch you?

    Because. I dont know why. Its just a need I have.

    Do you always call people up when the need comes upon you?

    Yes. I do. You find that hard to believe? This seemed a strange question. What did

    believing have to do with it? You find it hard to believe that women agree to watch?

    I cant imagine why they want to.

    They like to. Why did you agree to meet me?

    Curiosity.

    Well, thats why they agree, some of them. And some of them just like to watch. I can

    tell you find that unbelievable.

    In a way I guess I do.

    Why?

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    His voice was full of education and careful upbringing, an east coast person. I dont

    know, I said. It just seems strange, thats all. I mean where do they watch you? Right out on

    the street?

    Sometimes. Sometimes in cars or sometimes in their apartments.

    Dont you have an apartment?

    Yes. But I have a roommate.

    Why dont you ask your roommate to watch you?

    No. Im not into men.

    You arent into women either by the sound of it.

    Silence. Then, No, you dont understand. I have intercourse with women but then, later,

    maybe the next day or a little while later I get this urge to have someone watch me. I mean its

    just not enough, sexual intercourse. Its a problem I have.

    Why dont you try to get rid of your problem? You must like it.

    I do like it. This was said in a way that made my stomach lurch. Car headlights lit up

    the walls. Tell me about yourself, he said.

    I will not.

    Why not?

    Why should I?

    Well, tell me at least what you thought the last time I called. Were you annoyed?

    I thought you were my old student Bill Stanley.

    You did?

    Yes. He was a kid in the seventh grade and I thought you were him and that he was just

    fooling around.

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    No kidding. Do I sound that young?

    Hes not so young now. Sixteen.

    And I sound sixteen?

    No. You dont.

    Well, how old do I sound?

    How should I know? How old are you?

    How old are you?

    Infinitely older than you.

    How do you know? Maybe Im older than you.

    Maybe.

    Im twenty-one, he said. How old are you?

    Infinitely older than you. In truth, I was only four years older.

    Why wont you tell me?

    Why should I?

    Because Id like to know.

    Im not going to tell you anything.

    Why not? Ill tell you about me. Anyway. I know something about you already. I know

    youre not married.

    How do you know that?

    Because in the paper it says Miss Dutelle.Didnt occur to him that a woman might

    keep her maiden name. And I know you were a teacher. My ad boasted experience in public

    schools. Are you still a teacher?

    Listen, I said. Im not going to tell you anything about me.

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    Why not? It would be nicer.

    Nicer! You call this nice?

    Sure.

    Then you tell me about you.

    Okay, he said. Im twenty-one and Im a student at B.U.

    A senior?

    Yes. This is my last year.

    The clock told me it was time to go downstairs and start boiling the soaked adzuki beans.

    The time had come to slam the door shut on my trap. Where should we meet? I said.

    Can we meet tonight?

    Sure. Where?

    You arent teasing me?

    Why should I tease you?

    I dont know. Maybe you would say youll come and then you wont.

    Thats the chance you take. Where should I meet you?

    Could we meet now?

    No. I have to have dinner. Ill meet you later around nine oclock.

    Can I come to your house?

    Of course not.

    Well, do you know your way around Boston? Do you know where the Cadillac-Olds is

    on Commonwealth Avenue?

    Yes.

    Well, Ill meet you on the corner in front of that place.

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    Okay.

    How will I know you?

    You wont, I said.

    Well, thats no good. Tell me something so Ill recognize you.

    Dont worry, I said. Ill recognize you. Youll be the only one hanging around on the

    corner.

    But how do you know that? Tell me at least how Ill know its you.

    Okay, I said. Ill be in an old red Volvo with a lot of rust stains on it.

    And youre sure youre not kidding?

    Why should I kid?

    Well, maybe you dont understand my problem and maybe you wont show up.

    Maybe.

    Well, how can I be sure?

    You cant.

    Well, thats no good if you wont promise. I dont know what to expect.

    Thats right.You dont.

    Well, thats not fair.

    Those are the breaks, I said.

    Just tell me if youll be there.

    Ill be there.

    You promise?

    I said Id be there and now I have to hang up.

    Why?

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    Because I have to.

    Okay, he said. Ill see you at nine oclock.

    Yes, I said. See you then.

    I put down the receiver then phoned the police. I wonder if you could advise me. My

    voice was trembling. This surprised me because I thought I was calm. There was an obscene

    caller just now on the phone and he gave me his name and said hed meet me tonight and I dont

    know if I should meet him or just forget it.

    Dead silence. Its up to you, Maam. If you want to meet him then...

    No, I said. You dont understand. I wondered if maybe some police would go with me

    and then wed catch him.

    Dead silence. Theres not much we can do, Maam, if you agreed to meet him. Thats

    between you and him.

    But I only agreed so he could get caught.

    Yes, the sergeant said. But he isnt caught. Hes got to be apprehended in the act of

    placing an obscene call. As it is now hed just deny he called you and then where would we be?

    But what should I do?

    Dead silence. Well senda patrol car around to your house and theyll take care of it.

    Whats your name and address?

    I told him. How long will it take?

    Well send it right away. Should be there in ten, fifteen minutes. The second I put

    down the receiver the phone rang.

    You were on the phone. Who were you calling? The police?

    Maybe.

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    You were. Why were you calling the police? Do you want to have me caught? Is that

    your game?

    Thats the chance you take.

    Well, now Im not sure I want to meet you.

    Okay. Lets hang up.

    Just tell me if youre going to show up alone or with someone.

    No. I wont tell you.

    Did you call the police?

    Im not going to tell you.

    Why not?

    Why should I tell you who I call on my phone?

    Well, can I trust you?

    Ofcourse you cant trust me. Youd be an idiot to trust me.

    Well, what am I supposed to do?

    How should I know, I said. Youre the obscene caller.

    Just tell me if youll be alone.

    No. I wont tell you.

    Well, tell me if youll be with men.

    Maybe.

    You mean you want to hurt me? Is that what you want to do? Is that fair?

    Fair? Are you being fair?

    Yes, he said, I am. I have a need which Ive asked you to help me with and you wont

    even tell me if youre going to show up alone or not.

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    Thats right.

    Why are you being like that? Whats the big deal? If you want to watch me just say you

    do but if you dont want to just say no and Ill hang up and that will be the end of it.

    I said Id meet you.Thats all Im saying.

    And will you show up alone? Are you going to have your friends there ready to jump

    me?

    Maybe.

    Well, are you?

    If youre afraid of getting in trouble, I said, why do you make these phone calls?

    Because. I cant help it.

    You cant help it?

    No. I cant. I have this need to have someone watch me. Ive made a simple request to

    you. All you have to do is say whether or not you want to watch. If you do, good. If you dont

    thats cool too. Just tell me the truth.

    I kept looking out the window for the patrol car. If I could keep the caller on the phone,

    the police could hear for themselves and then hed be caught. Ive said all Im going to say, I

    said.

    Can I trust you?

    Thats up to you.

    Okay. Ill trust you.

    Ill see you at nine oclock, I said.

    Okay. But lets not meet in front of Cadillac-Olds. Lets meet in front of the B.U.

    library.

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    I dont know where that is.

    You dont?

    No.

    Do you know where the School of Public Communication is?

    Yes.

    Okay. Ill meet you in front of there.

    Okay.

    How will I know you?

    You wont.

    Come on. Just tell me a little bit about you.

    No. You tell me what you look like and Ill recognize you.

    Well, Im about six feet tall, green eyes, and a black moustache. What about you?

    Im six feet tall, I said, green eyes and a black moustache.

    Oh, you arent serious at all.

    Are you?

    Yes. Im very serious.

    Okay. Ill meet you later.

    Are you sure?

    I said I would.

    Well, Ill trust you.

    Thats up to you, I said. Now it began to dawn on me that the police would not send a

    patrol car.

    And youll be there?

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    Ive got to hang up.

    How come?

    Because Im making dinner and its burning up.

    Okay. Ill see you at nine. Maybe we can just talk or go get a cup of coffee or

    something.

    I went downstairs to the kitchen and put water in the pressure cooker. As I was twisting

    the lid the phone rang. Hows your dinner?

    Oh, for heavens sakes. What do you want now?

    I just dont know what to do.

    Do what you want.

    Just tell me if youre going to be alone or not.

    No, I said. Im not going to tell you.

    But can I trust you?

    Trust me or dont trust me. Do what you want.

    But Im scared now.

    You ought to be.

    Why wont you just tell me if youre sincere or not.

    I said Id meet you and thats all Im going to say.

    But youre making it into some kind of game, he said.

    Why shouldnt I? Whats so serious about it?

    Why wont you tell me what you look like?

    Why should I?

    Okay. Just tell me if youre going to be alone or with someone.

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    No.

    Just say if youre going to be with women or with men.

    No. I already told you Im not telling you anything. Do you want guarantees or

    something? You called me out of the blue. Dont youunderstand what kind of risk youre

    taking? Dont you understand that what youre doing is against the law? Hasnt it occurred to

    you what could happen calling up people like this? Silence. Then I heard my apartment door

    open. Hold on, I said. Somethings burning. I intercepted Jonathan setting car keys on the

    table by the door. I put my finger to my lips and whispered, Its the obscene caller. Hes on the

    phone right now.

    The obscene caller?

    Shhh. Yes. Remember?

    Jonathan loosened his scarf and unbuttoned his jacket. You mean that Bill Stanley guy?

    Shhh. Yes. Hes on the phone right now. I dont know what to do.

    Let me speak to that bastard, Jonathan said striding to the phone.

    No! I pulled Jonathan into the kitchen. If you talk to him hell just hang up and well

    never catch him.

    Catch him?

    Yes.I agreed to meet him and I called the police and they said theyd send a patrol car

    over here. I thought maybe theyd go with me and then hed be caught.

    Who is this guy?

    Hes a student at B.U. Bill Stanley. I was thinking that if he got caught then he could go

    get help, like the brother of that friend I was telling you about, the one they caught calling people

    in telephone booths. They sent him to McLean.

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    Try to get that guys phone number, Jonathan whispered. Tell him youll call him

    back.

    I went to the phone. Bill?

    What took you so long?

    Nothing. I was just trying to keep my dinner from getting ruined. Listen, Bill. I dont

    know what to do. Could I call you back in a little while?

    You dont know what to do?I thought I was the one who didnt know what to do.

    Well, I dont know either.

    I thought you said youd meet me.

    I did say that but now I dont know if I should. I need time to think. Let me call you

    back.

    How long?

    Ill call you after I finish eating.

    No, he said. Ill call you back.

    Jonathan signaled me with impatient hands. I have to eat now. All the foods getting

    cold. Goodbye.

    Jonathan dialed Boston University. He asked university information if there was a student

    enrolled named Bill Stanley. Back then we were not so security conscious and you could ask for

    such information. Theres no Bill Stanley at B.U.

    There isnt?

    No. Not in any class. Such a common name youd think there would be at least one.

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    I sat down hard. Id been talking to a criminal. Id been trying to outwit a bug hiding

    under a stone.Brrringgg! I stormed to the phone, yanked up the receiver and said, Youre a liar.

    There is no Bill Stanley at B.U.

    You called B.U.?

    I certainly did.

    You did? You called B.U.?

    Yes. I did. And now Im going to hang up because youre just a liar.

    No! Wait! That was the only lie I told you. The rest was all true. I am a student at B.U.

    I dont care what you are.

    It was the only lie. I made up a name but all the rest was true.

    Yeah, yeah.

    It is, honestly. I am a student at B.U. My name is Barry.

    Barry what?

    You want my last name?

    Yes. Whats your last name?

    I cant tell you. Thats crazy. I cant tell you.

    Then goodbye.

    Wait!

    Why? Youre not sincere. Im not going to waste my time. I hung up and went into the

    kitchen. The pressure cooker knob was vibrating.

    He gets his kicks from calling, Jonathan said. He would never have met you.

    Jonathan opened a cabinet and took out two wooden bowls and set them on the table. He would

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    have called you tomorrow and said he didnt show up because he got scared.Brrringgg!

    There he is, Jonathan said. See if you can get his number.

    I picked up the phone. Dont be mad at me.

    Youre just a liar. All you want to do is annoy people. I said Id meet you but thats not

    what you want. You just want to call on the phone like an idiot.

    I do want to meet you, he said. Believe me. I am sincere.

    Why should I believe you?

    You should, thats all. I do want to meet you.

    Then give me your telephone number and Ill call you back.

    Why?

    So I can find out if youre sincere or not.

    You want my telephone number?

    Yes.

    Can I trust you?

    Listen. Im not giving you any assurances. As far as Im concerned we can just hang up

    now and thats an end of it.

    Just tell me if I can trust you. Just tell me if youre out to hurt me.

    No, I said. Im not out to hurt you.

    And can I trust you?

    Yes. You can trust me.

    Okay. This is a big step.

    Yes.

    My number is 617... and he told me. We could just get coffee or something.

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    Ive got to go.

    Is your dinner burning?

    Yes. Goodbye. I went into the kitchen. He gave me his number. Jonathan and I sat

    there under a cloud of gloom. I mean he thinks hes just some immune creature who can call up

    and say obscene things and somehow hes exempt from all consequences.But its pathetic

    because hes sort of knocking on the door of the world and asking to be let in. I went to the

    refrigerator and took out salad fixings and began to tear them into our salad bowl. I mean is

    asking someone to watch you masturbate obscene?

    Sure, Jonathan said. Thats obscene.

    Why?

    Because its sex used in a violent, angry way. Its obscene.

    He said it was just a simple request. He said I should just say yes or no.

    Its not a simple request.

    He said women watch him all the time. Some of the ones he calls agree and some say

    they dont want to.

    Hes lying. They all scream and hang up. Youre the only one whos ever talked to him.

    Its not a simple request. Its a very angry thing to do. He asks you to watch and that hits you like

    a fist and when you hang up he keeps badgering and badgering and badgering.

    Oh.

    If he really wanted people to watch him hed just go do it. In subways or something.

    This way he stays immune. The thrill is that he stays invisible. Only now youve made him

    visible. Youve gone right past his bullshit and treated him like a person. Hes always pretending

    he has this problem about wanting people to watch him and because he doesnt really have that

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    problem he can see calling strangers as a big joke. But now youve challenged him to put up or

    shut up and he suddenly has to see himself more clearly. Suddenly he hears wha t hes been

    asking and realizes hes crazy.

    Ill call him back, I said. Find out if that number was real. I picked up the phone and

    dialed. Barry?

    Listen, he said. Im sorry. Really. Im sorry.

    You should be.

    I dont know whats the matter with me. God. I dont know. Im sorry. Really. I

    apologize. Really.

    I accept, I said. Just dont do it again.

    No, he said. No. Im sorry. Really. Im sorry.

    I hung up. Jonathan and I sat there listening to the pressure cooker knob jiggling. Outside

    was the steady hum of traffic on the Mass Turnpike. Brrringgg!

    You want me to put an end to it? Jonathan said and without waiting for an answer he

    went to the phone. Hello? Whos this? Oh, Barry, Ive been meaning to talk to you. This is

    Jonathan, Miss Dutelles husband. I know. Yes. Okay. Well, I suggest you go through it alone.

    Yes, Ill tell her. Jonathan came back into the kitchen and sat down. Says hes going through a

    bad scene. I said he should go through it alone. Said to apologize to you. Said he wont bother

    you anymore.

    Bother? You were right then. He just wants to bother.

    I never heard such a frantic voice, Jonathan said. I never heard anything like it. So

    confused and sad.

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    We continued making the salad, poured some yogurt dressing on it, dumped the brown

    rice in the bowls and spooned some beans on top then just sat there. All of a sudden theres this

    presence in here, I said. I feel responsible for him. Like God meant him to call us so he could

    get some help.

    Theres some reason he called, Jonathan said. Those things arent accidental.

    I thought it was punishment for me because of my dirty book but maybe its the

    opposite. Maybe it was fated for Barry to start on the way to being responsible for himself.

    Maybe he called not because Im so bad but because Im good. You know what I mean? Then I

    started crying.

    You are good. Youre the best thing that ever happened to that guy. I sank against

    Jonathan and let him comfort me. After a while I pulled back and said, You think we should call

    him back? You think we should offer to be his friends?

    Like go for coffee or something?

    Yes. Meet him and help him get through the night. Maybe be good influences on him.

    Jonathan went to the phone. Hello, Barry? This is Jonathan. Yes. Weve been thinking

    about you. Yes. We were wondering if youd like to get together and talk. Maybe talk out your

    problems. Yes. Well, sometimes it helps to talk these things out. Good. Yes. Thats a good idea.

    Good. Okay. Jonathan came back to the kitchen. Says hes going to go to the B.U. counseling

    service in the morning. Says he knows he needs help. Said I made him feel worse by offering to

    be his friend.After that we couldnt stay in the house anymore. We went out to a movie.

    Next day I called the telephone company and told the operator that I had received an

    obscene call. I mentioned the telephone number and she asked me to hold. You could get

    information from the phone company back then. The operator said that a Barry Seljan owned the

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    number and she told me his address. I phoned B.U. and asked if there was a student there named

    Barry Seljan. Yes. He was a senior. Student information told me his telephone number and his

    address. They matched the phone companys information. I phoned the Boston University

    Bureau of Student Affairs and spoke to a Mr. Marini who said, Next time he calls, Miss Dutelle,

    I advise you to hang up.

    Next time he calls? You dont understand. Hes not going to call again.

    So whats the problem?

    The problem is you have a student in serious trouble.

    So what do you want me to do? Mr. Marini asked.

    Talk to him. Care for him.

    I suggest, said Mr. Marini, that you file a complaint at the police station. That would

    be normal procedure. We dont even know if its Barry whatever his name is who called up. It

    might be his roommate or somebody who doesnt even go to B.U. We dont know. Could be

    some crazy guy using the name of a B.U. student. Who knows?

    I know, I said. One of your students needs help. I figured youd care enough to try.

    Mr. Marini said. Ill hand it over to campus security. And I suggest that you stop

    encouraging these callers. Its the encouragement that keeps them talking.

    Yes, I said. I encouraged him right into telling me his name and number. I meant to

    encourage him!

    No doubt you did the right thing as far as your civic duty is concerned, he said. Still,

    Id never let my wife talk to some stranger like that. You took a big risk.

    Of what? Being stabbed through the phone?

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