2007-06-14
crank
I can always tell when the phone will ring. The space between my eyebrows will tingle, almost like a static jolt. Then Mama stomps down the hall, holding the phone like an offering.
"For you," she says, as if I haven't figured it out.
I listen to the other person breathing: thick, wet gasps like the ghostly traffic inside a seashell. When I finally get sick of this, I say, "Hello?" and they hang up.
Five times this week.
Last night, they called after dinner. I dumped the dishes in the sink and stood by the phone. A few seconds later, it rang.
"How did you do that?" Mama asked.
I winked and said, "Magic."
The mystery caller didn't say a word. Muffled laughter erupted in the background. A girl's voice piped up: "Is she there?"
"Yeah," said a louder voice. "But she's not saying shit."
I plunked the phone on the floor. I got up and filled a bowl with chips. When I came back, crunching away, they still hadn't given up.
"Are you there?" someone said.
"No," I told them.
"Do you like Julio?" a girl asked.
"I don't really know him," I said.
"Do you like him as a friend?" she asked.
"I guess so."
More laughter. Then a click. I listened to the outer space sounds before the operator cut in: "If you'd like to make a call."
In junior high, I used to call random people from the phone book. I looked them up by their last names. If I liked the sound of it, I'd give them a ring. I tried to imagine their houses, the rooms, the furniture. Usually the conversation didn't last long. I'd sit on the other end, listening to their dogs yapping, babies howling, the TV blaring.
One time, an older woman answered. "We have the same name," I told her.
"That we do," she said.
I waited for her to hang up. When she didn't, we started talking about birds.
"I haven't seen many grackles this season," she said in a sandpapery whisper.
The word, "grackle," twisted through my mind. Seven letters. Like our names.
"It was nice talking to you," the lady said. "I need to run and get my hair done."
"Okay," I said. "Nice talking to you."
And it was.
f-i-n at 3:58 p.m.