A Phone Call

She said hello several times into the phone. Hello. You hear me?, she asked. On the other end there was nothing, not even breathing. I’m gonna hang up now, the older woman said. I’m gonna hang up and not answer again. Hello.

Don’t do that, a creaky male voice said. Don’t hang up on me, he said. You owe me. You owe me an explanation from a long time ago, the hoarse voice said. You don’t remember me do ya? I know my voice has changed. I’m older now. And so are you. Think back a long time ago. Back when we used to meet in the park ’round midnight. Do you remember?

Who is this? Just tell me. You’re scaring me. How can I remember so long ago.

I still remember. I remember the softness of your skin, long ginger hair, green eyes.

All that’s gone. I wouldn’t be of any interest to ya now. I’m just an old widow. Who is this?

So Charlie died? I thought he’d live forever. He was an athlete in high school. Very good looking. You took turns between us.

I was true to Charlie. I was true. I don’t know who you are, but you’re a sick man. A very sick man.

Looking at a picture of you here in the year book. Have you got a ’67 year book? The Hornet. Black with gold lettering?

I don’t look at my past. Never have. Did I hurt ya in any way? If I did I’m sorry. I’ve got to go now. Goodbye.

And with that she hung up the phone. It rang again in the middle of the night. She heard it next to her bed. It rang for the longest time. It wouldn’t stop ringing. She picked it up and hung up the phone as quick as she could. She left the phone dangling from the night stand. A busy signal sounded throughout the night.

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