Premonition

Premonition

         The sound of crying once again roughly jerked Tammy out of a deep sleep. She sat up, eyes frantically scanning the room. The soft glow from the hall lamp helped her eyes adjust.

         Her sight focused in on the lump next to her. Once again John was sound asleep. Nothing disturbed his dreams. In sleep, as in everyday life, he was totally self absorbed.

         Tammy shook him gently not wanting to startle him. "John...wake up, honey. I need you."

         "What's wrong now?" he muttered. Sitting up, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

         "I heard it again," Tammy sobbed. "Every night it's the same thing. I hear someone crying and calling for help but by the time I wake up, it's over." She rubbed her arms trying to warm herself.

         "You're just having a dream, stop your snivelling."

         Tammy flinched away from the harshness of his voice, then tried again. "Please, John. Just hold me. I don't know what's going on but I'm scared." Her eyes pleaded for understanding.

         John laid back down and turned away. "I'm tired and I have to be up at 7am. This is your problem...not mine. Go to sleep...or better yet, go sleep on the couch so you don't disturb me."

         Tammy sat on the edge of the bed, silent tears trailing down her cheeks. Soon her husband's soft snoring drove her from the room.

         She made a fire in the den to help ward off the chill and sat in the plush recliner her father had given her. Finally, she started to relax.I know he's right, it's probably just a dream, but what if it's someone needing help? She fell into a fitful sleep.

         John was impatiently calling her name and poking her. "Aren't you going to get up and make my breakfast?"

         She was so tired, she thought about arguing but knew it wouldn't do any good. Her husband considered this was one of her 'wifely duties', no excuse. Sighing, she went to start the coffee while he took a shower.

         John came in adjusting his tie. He sat at the table, reaching for the morning paper. Before he could bury himself into the financials Tammy slipped a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him.

         "We need to talk," she began tentatively. "These night wakings are scaring me. I'm so tired, and I don't know what’s going on." Tears filled her eyes.

         John slapped the paper on the table. "What do you want me to do about it?" he demanded. "I don't hear anything."

         "That's because you sleep so deeply,” she tried to keep the whining from her voice. Taking a deep breath she continued, “you could try to stay awake for a little while tonight. Maybe someone is trying to frighten me, or it could even be a cat...I don't know. I just want it to stop."

         "I'm not staying awake for this stupid crap!" he yelled. "You're just dreaming for god's sake! Maybe you need to see a shrink." A hard glint shone in his eyes. "Maybe that's it. You need psychiatric help."

         Tammy stared at the man she had given the past 14 years to.My God, He thinks I'm crazy. A sob broke from her throat as she ran to her bedroom and threw herself down on the coverlet. A few minutes later the slamming of the door signaled her husbands leaving.

         After a fitful nap Tammy felt more rested. She sat at her vanity staring into her mirror. The strain of sleepless nights was showing, new wrinkles were appearing near the corners of her eyes and mouth. A few gray hair peeked out from behind the mass of chestnut colored curls. “John has no reason to love you anymore,” she admonished her reflection. “You need to pull yourself together.” Suddenly an idea came to her. Smiling, she fixed her makeup and started her chores.

         That night John came in bearing gifts. Smiling sheepishly he handed her a bouquet of roses and a box of candy. "I'm sorry I've been so grumpy."

         Tammy wiped her eye with the corner of her apron. It didn't matter that flowers made her sneeze, or that John knew she was on a diet. Taking the items from him, she placed them on the coffee table. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big kiss, pulling back when she felt him stiffen slightly. “Thank you,” she said softly.

         “No problem honey. What’s for dinner?” he gave her a lopsided grin. “I’m starving.”

         After dinner they went into the living room. John put some soft music on the radio and lit the fire. “So how was your day, did you get any rest?” he asked gently handing her a glass of wine.

         Tammy, hoping John would join her, forsake her comfy chair and curled up on the couch. It had been a long time since they shared any intimacy. She smiled when he sat next to her. “Mmm...this is nice. Yes, actually I did. I even got my hair done, do you like it?”

         He reached over and took a loose curl from her cheek. “I noticed, I just didn’t get a chance to say anything...it looks good.”

         Tammy sipped her wine, and leaned back. “Thank you, and you don’t have to worry about me waking you up tonight. I think I’ve come up with a solution.”

         “Are you going to see someone?”

         “No, but I don’t want to talk about that now. I just want to sit here with you.” She took another sip, set her glass on the end table, and snuggled closer.

         John jumped up and reached for her glass. “Let me get you another, it’ll help you sleep tonight.”

         The rebuff from John hurt, but Tammy hid the pain behind a smile. Baby steps, she admonished herself, don’t try to move too fast, he doesn’t like pushy people. Let him set the pace. She took the proffered glass gently grazing his fingers with her own. “I think I’m going to sleep like a baby.”

         The drinks went down quickly. Every time less than an inch was left John would refill it. Tammy noticed that he was only sipping his own. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” She laughed. “Because it’s not necessary.”

         “No, I’m just trying to help you sleep.” Seeing the yawn Tammy was trying to hide, John stood up and reached out his hand to her. “Looks like it’s working. Come on sleepy head, time for bed.”

         Trying to protest, Tammy realized how tired she was. Leaning on John, they made their way to the bedroom. While John went into the bathroom, Tammy lay on the bed, thinking about the seduction ahead. Soon she was fast asleep.

         The next morning John stood in the bathroom doorway adjusting his tie. Going to the phone, he calmly dialed 911.

         “911, what’s your emergency?” a tinny voice came through the line.

         Hesitating a moment, John got in character. “Help,” he sobbed, “my wife, I think she’s dead...please send an ambulance! Hurry!” he shouted, slamming the phone down for emphasis.

         John looked around the room, trying to see it as the police would. Realizing they might think it odd for him to be fully dressed, he removed his jacket, loosening his tie again. Going into the bathroom, he splashed some water on his pants and shirt. Giving one final glance at the tub, he went downstairs to wait.

         An hour later the medical examiner finished up his preliminary exam. Detective Tompkins stood just outside the door. “What do you think, Doc?”

         The popping of his knees as he stood echoed in the small room. “It looks like suicide but I won’t know for sure until I do the autopsy.”

         “Yeah that’s what I figured too,” the detective replied. “I just got done talking to the husband, he’s all torn up. He said she’d been having nightmares, and acting strange...moody. He noticed her drinking a lot last night. The poor guy had even suggested she get some help.”

         Turning from the scene, he surveyed the bedroom. Everything was neat and in its place, except for the bed which hadn’t been made. “Looks like she was having a hard time sleeping,” he said, noticing the way the blankets were in a tangle. He walked over to try and get the feel of what happened. Reaching down with gloved hands he picked up a small item he had bumped with the toe of his shoe.

         “What you got there Tompkins?” the examiner asked. Curious, he walked over to peer around the big man’s shoulder. “Looks like a tape player.”

         “It is...it was under the bed,” Tompkins murmured. “Now why would this be here?” He hit the rewind button. It took a few moments to get back to the beginning. When it was done he hit play.

         A woman's voice played quietly through the small speaker. “Testing, testing.” a pause. “Today is March 9, 2004.” Tompkins hit the pause button and stared around the room. “What’s today’s date?” he asked.

         An officer standing by the dresser piped in, “it’s the 10th, sir.”

         “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Get the husband in here. I want him to hear this, it might be a suicide tape.” Without waiting for a reply he hit play again.

         “I have been having problems at night sleeping, well not actually sleeping. I wake up to crying. I’m not sure if someone is playing a joke, if I’m dreaming... or if I’m hearing a ghost,” a nervous chuckle. “Well, anyway, tonight I’m going to record the noise. If it’s real, maybe John will believe me. If not, I’m going crazy. Hope this works.”

         Several soft clicks, then the sound of a door opening. “You shouldn’t have given me so much wine, John.” Hearing that, the detective turned to the door. John was standing there with his eyes bulging. A trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face.

         The nightly sounds of people getting ready for bed, the rustling of the bedcovers, the squeak of the mattress, played softly. Everyone was silent, trying to hear every nuance.

         “Wake up, Tammy!” The scream shocked the detective, causing him to almost drop the player, he hit the pause button again. Glancing around, he saw the medical examiner’s hand grab his chest. Several startled yelps went through the room.

         Glancing once more at the husband, a thought entered his mind, the man looks scared. He hit play again.

         Crying filled the room. “Wake up! For God’s Sake, Wake Up! He’s going to kill you!” a sound of a door opened in the background.

         “So, that’s what you’ve been talking about...you've been trying to warn yourself?” John’s voice came through. “Well, no worry. You wont wake up this time. I gave you enough sleeping pills to knock you out for a day.” Soft footsteps, the sound of whimpering. A chuckle. “I’ve had enough of you and I can’t afford a divorce. So tonight, you’re going to kill yourself...with my help.”

         While the sounds of the apparent murder continued, all eyes turned to John. All signs of grief now wiped away. “That stupid cow!” he screamed. “How did she know?” He collapsed against the doorframe.

         A cold draft lifted the curtains as the sound of the wheels in the recorder turning was the only noise left on the tape. Letting it spin, the detective stepped over to John. He looked down at the broken man as he removed his handcuffs from his beltloop.

         Staring up at the detective, John shook his head in wonder. He stood and held his arms out. Softly he repeated his question, “how did she know?”

         Shrugging, the detective placed the cold medal on his shaking wrists. “She was your wife... somehow, they know everything.”