Intruder Alert

A few days ago, I was driving home from work and decided to call Ken. If you may remember, I was railing a while back about my car phone lady, who can never recognize Ken’s name. But this time, when I said, “Call Ken,” she right away responded with “OK, calling Ken.” Or at least that’s what I thought she said. But when the call got picked up, a very deep, very suspicious male voice said, “Hello?” and then I looked at my phone control panel and realized it said ‘Cam’. And I was like, “Who the f*ck is Cam?!” I don’t know ANYONE named Cam except my 12 year-old nephew, and he doesn’t have a phone, and also, how after ALL THESE YEARS of the car phone lady not recognizing the name Ken, is she suddenly able to understand CAM?!

So I mumbled something weird about trying to call my husband, sorry wrong number etc., and he hung up on me. At which point, I remembered that I’d changed Ken’s contact to Kenneth in a futile attempt to make my life easier, which it HAS NOT, but I called him anyway after several moments of conversation with the car phone lady during which she peppered me with questions like “Did you say Karen? Did you say Nancy?” until I finally got through to Ken.

Me: Do I know anyone named Cam, aside from our nephew?
Ken: I have no idea. Why?
Me: Because my car phone just called some rando named Cam, and I don’t remember putting anyone with that name in my contacts.
Ken: Did you ask him?
Me: No. I think he thought I was from one of those duck cleaning services and he hung up on me.
Ken: Duct.
Me: If I’m going to be a telemarketer, then I’m definitely cleaning ducks.

And I still have no idea who Cam is. I tried reverse look-up on the number but all I could find out is that it’s a cell phone in Toronto, so the mystery remains unsolved.

Then things got even more mysterious and a little scary on Thursday. I’d been out all morning thrifting and scored some fantastic deals. I walked up to the door of the house with my arms full of stuff, and sniffed the air because it smelled strongly of freshly brewed coffee, which to some of you might seem heavenly but to me, who despises coffee, all it meant was that Ken had come home early from volunteering in the food tent at a tractor show, as one does, and had snuck in a cup behind my back. So I opened the door, fully expecting to see him in the kitchen savouring his brew, but he wasn’t there. Atlas seemed very pleased that I was home, but there was no sign of Ken anywhere. Then I noticed that the door to the family room, which I’d closed before I left, was wide open. Maybe Ken was outside. But no. Strange. I started organizing my thrift shop finds when I realized that there was a noise like running water coming from the back bathroom, so I went to investigate. The hot tap was running. So I got a little nervous and texted Ken, and while I was doing that, Atlas suddenly took off upstairs and started running around up there like he was looking for something. When I called him, he refused to come down right away and stood at the top of the stairs like he was worried, which made me feel even more nervous.

Me: Hey buddy, whatcha doing?
Atlas: Jus’ lookin’ around.
Me: For what?
Atlas: Things. Peoples.
Me: Can you come back down?
Atlas: Did you say ‘Cam’?

Then Ken responded that one of our neighbours had called him a little while ago, but he couldn’t take her call because he was busy frying onions or something, and all I could think was that she’d seen someone lurking around, someone with a large cup of coffee perhaps, and that she was trying to alert us, and then I got REALLY SCARED. Ken offered to drive home but he was half an hour away and up to his elbows in onions and whatnot, so I did what any normal person would do. I walked across the street to the church that’s being renovated and asked the very nice man who owns it (you may remember him from the porta-potty escapade) if he could come back with me and help me search my house. And I can only imagine how a request like that might be perceived, like “Hi, you don’t really know me but I think there’s a psychotic coffee-drinking killer in my house, so could you be a dear and flush him out for me?” But I really was almost in tears at this point, and he immediately followed me back. I put Atlas outside, much to his dismay, and the very nice man and I went through the place together, opening all the closets and making sure the attic and basement were locked, much to my relief.

After the very nice man was gone and it seemed like we were safe, Atlas and I looked at each other:

Me: That was quite an adventure.
Atlas: Can I come in now?
Me: Did you say Cam?

Cam?

52 thoughts on “Intruder Alert”

  1. OMG, you had me spewing oatmeal with laughter as I read this. Disappointed that you despise coffee (but I told myself, she is a little crazy, which is why she’s such an entertaining writer). The mystery remains unsolved, though, huh? Weird. Take care, Cam.

    I mean, Suzanne.

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  5. At least they were a clean ghostly bandit. Who the heck goes into someone’s home brews coffee goes to bathroom (I can only assume) and then washes their hands? And I will forgive you your dislike of coffee. I mean it is a little weird but to each his own. 🙂

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  6. Well don’t leave me hanging, who or what had happened? I had a similar happening when I was watching a house with two dogs years ago. The door was open and I called the police who were afraid to go in because of the two dogs, a small poodle and a very large bulldog. They should have been more afraid of the little one because the big one just mauls you with kisses. Luckily nothing was wrong. As far as the water tap being on—in my old apartment the people above me had two large dogs that fought and scuffled all day. One day I heard a drip drip, and they had been shut in the bathroom above mine and somehow turned on the water tap and it flooded their bathroom and then in turn flowed down and flooded my own. Maybe Atlas knows how to get his own drink of water 😂

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

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  8. Oh. Very creepy, Suzanne. I hope you find out what happened and who was in there! Leaving the tap running was very freaky. I’m glad you got someone to search with you too, so you avoided the old horror movie plot. Let us know if you ever find out what happened!

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  10. Scary. A poltergeist, maybe? Atlas looks like he could take care of any (human) intruder, unless he’s the kind of dog that barks and then runs behind you and peers around your legs. I hope you’ll learn the truth about Cam and share it in a future post.

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  11. A coffee-drinking ghost, as others have already suggested, seems almost too on-brand for you—so much so that if a ghost moved in to your house I feel almost certain it would drink coffee. This would both unnerve you and be a good way for the ghost to keep its energy up. But I’m also wondering if there’s something else that has a coffee odour that might also get Atlas’s hackles up.
    Meanwhile I feel once again slightly envious of Ken’s life, working a food tent at a tractor show and up to his elbows in onions. What the heck was he cooking?

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    • Onions! And here’s an update. About an hour ago, Ken left with Kate to take her back to college. 20 minutes later, I could hear Atlas crying. He was in the back bathroom. I thought he needed some water, so I gave him some, but 5 minutes later, I could hear him crying again. I went in and he was staring at the basement door. I am currently alone in the house. Luckily, the bathroom door locks from the outside with a skeleton key, so it’s locked, and I’m locking myself in the bedroom until Ken gets home. Wish me luck!

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  15. At the beginning of the pandemic, when my nerves were already on edge, someone tried to get into our (first-floor) apartment via the terrace at two in the morning. (It was just a drunk/high club kid who had the wrong address. He didn’t get in, and the police arrived on-scene to pick him up.)

    But despite how it turned out, my sense of security was permanently comprised; I never slept right in that place again. I’m much happier living on the tenth floor of a building with a 24-hour doorman!

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  16. Oh my, have you found any answers? I had a weird experience this week too. On Friday evening my husband was in bed and I thought Ranger was in our bedroom. I was reading in the living room and Ruby walked past me and into the kitchen she let out a yelp and ran to the bedroom. My first thought was that Ranger must have been in the kitchen and snaped at her but when I went to investigate there was nothing and no one there. I called Ruby and she would not come out of the bedroom until it was time for her to go outside and go potty. I’ll never know what it was that she saw that I didn’t.

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  19. Yikes! That’s awfully strange, with the coffee, running water, etc., and way to take the wind out of your sails after a successful round of thrifting. (Having done a lot of thrifting myself this summer, I know what a high it can be.) Stupid ghost/intruder.

    But what a lovely neighbour! And Atlas looks as adorable as ever.

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