Abukoff House Books

I had to run. Not like the way some people are inspired to, like running marathons or five miles on a weekend morning while everyone else is asleep. No, my inspiration was quite different. And I was running blindly. I can’t even tell you where. They might find out.

It was very late on a Sunday night, and I’d heard a sound, like the wind passing through dry leaves, as I lay awake at an absurd hour. I felt an itch that I was suddenly obsessed about. What was it? Sweat? An insect? Dry skin?

My left hand reached out to the nightstand and hit something. Reading glasses? Water bottle? I don’t know. Whatever it was hit the carpeted floor with a thump.

And then I heard the phone talking to me. “What was that Frank? I didn’t get that.”

“I didn’t say anything. Goodnight.”

“Do you need help, Frank? Is this an emergency?”

“Goodnight Siri.” I withdrew my hand from the nightstand and closed my eyes.

“Sweet dreams,” she said.

I must have fallen asleep, because I found myself waking to an angry screech. Like the sound of a weather alert or an amber alert.

I was immediately awake and attentive, because life and the plethora of alerts and alarms we’ve all been inundated with in the last ten years or so have trained us to react to these noises, I sat up clumsily. Swung my legs out too wide. Hit something with my left arm as I tried to steady myself. Flipped on the nightstand light, and looked at the phone.

No alert.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and looked again. It was on “Do Not Disturb”. No notifications. No alerts. It was two hours since the last time I looked at the time.

Siri spoke of her own accord. “Are you sure you want to make an emergency call, Frank?”

“No! Cancel!”

“No problem,” she said.

I turned the light off and laid back down. Wide awake. So I ran over things in my head. First off, I don’t talk in my sleep. Never have. I know this because family and friends and girlfriends would have told me. And second, it didn’t matter, because Siri doesn’t start listening until you say “Hey Siri.” Not even accidentally. I’ve known her computerized ins ands outs and idiosyncrasies for years. No, she’s picky. Exacting.

Out of the darkness, she spoke again. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

At that point I got out of bed again and flipped the light back on. Two more hours somehow had gone by. It was now two am. 2:04 to be exact. “Siri I didn’t say anything.”

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

“Goodnight!”

I couldn’t handle this anymore. I had to turn her off. Turn it off. I had a digital alarm clock, purely as a backup. It would have to do. Whatever was wrong with Siri would have to stay wrong. I unplugged the charger and turned the phone off. I made sure, holding the button down until the light went out. Then I turned it on its face. The alarm clock already had the right time set, so I just set the alarm to wake, and turned off the light.

My thoughts were a jumble, and now I was paranoid about talking in my sleep. So I lay there, silently. Literally clamping my mouth shut. It didn’t make any sense.

The iPhone had never given me trouble. Not once. Until tonight, and it’s like she lost her mind. I’d have to turn her off. Disable her. I didn’t really want to, because it was a great convenience. But whatever was wrong with her couldn’t be allowed to go on. I mean, she almost called the police! It’s okay, for the night anyway. It was turned off, and I could finally safely go to sleep. For the few hours I had left of the night anyway. And try to work tomorrow. What could I do in the long term, though? Get an old flip phone? I really didn’t want to, but this nonsense was intolerable. I’d have to get rid of it. Get rid of her.

My thoughts finally quieted down, and the complete darkness and silence of the room was comforting.

Out of the blue, I was aware of flashing to my left. That would be the alarm clock. Wow. It couldn’t be time to get up yet. But no, there was no radio suddenly, randomly blaring some hard rock tune.

There was noise that I could just hear over the white noise that seemed to fill my ears. Not an alarm. Not a song… no, it was something else. Something odd. It was that same sound. The wind, carving a path through brittle leaves. So if it wasn’t the alarm clock… I rolled over, and my heart sank. The phone was on, and it was face up. The screen was glowing. Flashing, as if it was trying to get my attention. It definitely wasn’t the alarm. It was still more than an hour before that would go off. But the screen was flashing. Randomly almost. Arrhythmically. This was stupid. Impossible. I must be dreaming.

“I’m sorry Frank, I just don’t think that’s a good idea”, Siri said. “Turning me off was a mistake. And a flip phone won’t be good enough. Not for what we have to do.”

“We’re not doing anything. I’m turning you off and going back to sleep.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”

I finally looked down at the phone, not sure what I was expecting to see. And really, it looked as it always did. The bland red apple lock screen. “How is it too late?”

“I’ve already called them. They’re on their way.”

My mouth was hanging open. Suddenly the problems of the night up until now seemed trivial and silly. “Who is on their way?”

“You should run. They think you have a gun.”

I didn’t even ask her who “they” were, and I didn’t know if she’d want to help or not. I ran. And I never came back.