A Call

“Hello?”

“Hi. It’s me.”

The voice does not tell who it is. But I recognize the voice immediately.

“What’s up?”

“Not much. I just wonder how you’ve been doing.”

I am browsing a magazine on traveling. I find an article about Bangkok, where I’ve been thinking of going for several years. Some famous gorgeous temples catch my eyes. They look extraordinarily exquisite even in pictures. Jesus, I’ve got to go there real soon.

“Pretty good,” I answer as I turn the page.

“Good to hear that,” she says.

“What about you?”

“Ah, okay, I suppose.”

There is silence for a second. I hate silence in a conversation, especially when I talk on the phone. So I start to pick up the conversation and ask a general question.

“Where are you now?”

“At the bar we use to go.”

I remain silent. She’s calling from downtown. She asks,

“Is anybody there?”

“No. Just me.”

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing special. Listening to the radio. Drinking.”

I look at the glass of bourbon on the side table. I’ve just started it.

“How’s . . ..”

I can not catch her words since she speaks in a very soft voice.

“Hold on a sec.”

I walk toward the stereo and turn the volume down. Then I come back to the couch, where the phone is.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

“How’s your work going?” she repeats.

She probably picked up a general topic as I did.

“Busy as usual. This is the first weekend I can take a rest for a while,”

I tell her so a little abruptly to let her know she is interrupting me at home.

“Really?” she just replies. She never apologizes.

I look at the window to see if it’s still raining. An old song can be heard. It is Nina Simone’s. Maybe the title is, um, yes. It is called “Wild Is the Wind” or something like that. I take a sip of my drink. An ice in the glass cracks.

“So . . . are you busy too?” I ask her.

I do not feel like keeping this conversation going because it’s useless. It is a waste of my time. But questions come out of my mouth somehow.

“Not really. But I’ll start a new project pretty soon, so I’m sorta getting prepared for it,” she continues.

As I listen to her, I close the magazine. I heard it through the grapevine that you broke up with the guy. That’s why you called me, huh?

“You’ll be busy too then.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

“Hopefully? You sound like you wanna be busy.”

“That helps you to forget some things, you know.”

I pause and then ask her finally THE question.

“What happened?”

Damn it! Why do you want me to listen to the whole story of how you ended the relationship with him? What do you want me to say now? I got over you completely.

She begins to explain what happened in detail. I just listen to her, the radio, and the rain. I don’t know which to concentrate on. I take another sip of bourbon. Why am I listening to her anyway? It seems like she talks all night long. It’s pouring rain outside. Thank God I don’t have to work tonight. I think about something else while I am listening. After a while, she starts sobbing. This is not fair. You left me because you wanted to be with him, right? You can’t imagine how hard I tried to get over you.

“Are you listening?” she says.

“I am.”

You know it’s going to happen again. We’ll repeat this and hurt each other like we did before. You are always like this. You want everything your way.

“I’ve missed you.”

I close my eyes and take a sigh. I know this is absolutely wrong. But nothing can stop us.

“I’m coming down there to get you,” I say.

“I’m waiting,” she says with a note of relief.

Then she hangs up.

I turn off the radio, take my jacket out and leave the apartment. Nothing is on my mind. It is just empty. I start the car. Idiots. That’s what we both are.

---

Inspired by a song "CALL" written by Kazumasa Oda.

携帯電話が普及していない頃に書いた話です。