Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Special Treat – Janet Seever

July 19, 2006

 
There's a Stranger in My Bedroom!
By Janet Seever

Feb. 4, 2006, was a night like no other. I hadn’t slept well for some
reason, and at 3:30 a.m., just as I was drifting back to sleep, the
light in our bedroom went on. A man was standing by our bed, glaring
down at my husband and me! He had a short haircut and a goatee like our
son Tim, who lived in our basement apartment, but when I got my eyes to
focus, he definitely was not Tim. Barrel chested, the young man wore a
black sweatshirt and two gold earrings.

“You’re sleeping in my bed!” Anger rose in his voice. “You’re living in
my house! I’ve got papers to prove it.”

It was no dream. This was real. “Who are you?” I asked, “What’s your
name?” to which he responded, “Ron.”

I needed a phone, but it was in the kitchen. My husband woke up
momentarily, but since he is handicapped from a stroke, he could do
nothing to help. I had no way to contact my son in the basement. So it
was just Ron and me as the drama unfolded.

“Let’s go to the kitchen and talk about this,” I said, getting out of
bed and heading for the hall. I could tell Ron had been drinking because
I could smell alcohol, although his speech wasn’t slurred. Strangely
enough, I was perfectly calm.

Still very angry, Ron followed me to the kitchen. “So this is your
house?” I asked.

“Yes, I paid for it. But I suppose you need your sleep,” he responded.

“If it’s your house, would the police kick us out?” He agreed they would.

“Shall I call them and see?” This was the opportunity I was looking for.

“It’s 911,” Ron offered. He quit his tirade about owning the house, and
relaxed. When I asked him how he had gotten here, he said that the cab
had dropped him off at the front door of “his house” and he had just
walked in. Then I remembered—my husband had let in the cat before we
went to bed, and I hadn’t checked to see if he had relocked the door.

So I called 911. I calmly explained to the woman at the other end that I
had a man in my kitchen, who said he owned the house we were living in.
She transferred me to the police department.

During our conversation, the police dispatcher said, “You sound calm,”
to which I agreed and said Ron wasn’t threatening me, he just wanted his
house back. (I hoped she didn’t think I was too calm and dismiss this as
a prank call.) Ron was completely cooperative, answering questions about
himself for the police dispatcher on the other end of the line as I
relayed the questions to him– he was 5’10”, 300 pounds (I think he was
mistaken about that), 27 years old, dressed in a black shirt and
sweatshirt. He then rolled up his sleeve to show me he had a tattoo. He
also gave us his full name this time.

Shortly afterward, we heard the door—still unlocked—open, and two police
officers entered. “Do you still think you own this house?” they asked
Ron as he walked toward the door. At this point he had sobered up enough
to agree that the house didn’t look anything like his, and he gave them
his address in the next subdivision. “I’ve never seen this woman before
in my life,” he said, referring to me. He apologized profusely for
making a mistake.

In thinking about the incident afterward, I reflected on the fact that I
never felt terrified. Part of the reason was I had been in difficult
situations previously with irrational people and had talked my way
through them. I knew what to do. But I said it was just Ron and me.
That’s not really true. I think God had His angels encamped around me.
And getting Ron to agree to phone the police? I think God gave me the
words to say. I don’t normally think that clearly in the middle of the
night, especially in stressful situations.


-- © Janet Seever 2006

___________________________________________
The mother of two adult children, Janet lives with her husband in Calgary,
Alberta, where she writes for Word Alive magazine. She has had a variety
of articles and short stories published in magazines and on Internet. You
can find more of Janet's writing at http://www.inscribe.org/janetseever or
you can e-mail her here: jseever1@shaw.ca