Dialing the Dead

Dialing The Dead

I shut the door behind me, and dragged myself inside, exhausted from a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. I dropped my keys on the entry table, and walked into the kitchen. Willow was sitting at the counter, nursing what appeared to be a double whiskey, neat. She stared into her glass, zoned completely out of this world.

I walked up behind, put my arms around her and she jumped, startled, having not even noticed my entrance.

“Woe, it’s just me. What’s up honey?”

She placed her hands on my arms, snuggled in close but didn’t say a word.

“You okay?” I asked

“Sort of. I want to make a call.” She responded with a seriousness not the norm for Willow whose personality mirrored her name.

“Okay. What’s stopping you?” There was much more to this story than that small excerpt she gave me.

“Not just a call, A CALL,” she said sternly pointing towards the ceiling.

Was she wanting to call God or a roofer? “Okay,” I said dragging the word out with confusion. “Baby I’m lost. Who are you wanting to call?

“My mother,” Willow said, putting her head done on her arms.

“Darlin’ what are you talking about?” I tried to sound supportive but I was still so damned confused that all I could think to do was use loving words.

“Andrea, get your head out of the 20s and realize the technology we have now. I know you’ve heard about it. One of the companies is Double D, also known as Dialing the Dead.”

“I thought that was all false news. How can they do it? Are they psychics, card readers? You haven’t given them any money have you?” Then I spot her debit card on the counter and sigh.

“Look honey, I haven’t given them anything yet but I just got off the phone with Kevin who just got off the phone with his dead father! It’s the real deal honey, and I want to talk to my mother.”

Willow stood and I turned her towards me, kissed her lightly on the lips and pulled her into my embrace. “If you believe in this, I’m behind you all the way. Why don’t you call the company and let’s see what the process is?” I always wanted to support my wife, but this was out of my realm of comprehension. How does it work? How is it possible?

She hugged me tight and sat back down, picked up her phone and dialed a number she had on a slip of paper. She hit the speaker icon so I could hear too.

“Dialing the Dead. This is Lori. How can I help you?” The woman sounded older but a little too perky for me. I guess I expected a somewhat more somber demeanor for the reason for the call. I almost giggled at the whole idea of what we were doing.

“Yes, I wanted to find out the process because I’m interested in calling my mother.” Willow’s voice was a little shaky, so I put my hand on her shoulder.

“Sure I can help you. You’ll need your mother’s social security number, DOB, DOD and last phone number. Once we have that information, we’re able to input it into our system and find the number for your mother and then set up a call.”

“You’re given a new phone number when you die?” I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but this was all so bazaar.

“It’s more of a regional number,” Lori says.

“What does the service cost?” Willow asks.

“The service itself is free, but the call will be $2500 for the first five minutes, $500 for each additional five-minute increment. Do you have your mother’s information and ready to proceed?”

“Oh no. Thank you for your time.” Willow ended the call and dropped her phone on the counter like it was a hot potato.

I sat down beside her and reached for her hand. “Well I guess it’s one hell of a long-distance call!” Willow laughed, as I hoped.

“It’s not the money.” Willow had written six best-selling novels and wouldn’t hesitate to spend $5000 on something she wanted.

“So what is your hesitation?”

“What am I going to say to her? The last time we talked we were so loud the dogs in the neighborhood started barking.”

“Well that was a typical discussion between you two. There wasn’t much you agreed on, but you loved each other, and that’s in the past, considering the circumstances.” My attempt at humor was failing.

“I don’t know. She tends to hold onto things. At least she used to.”

Willow’s voice carried the sadness and regrets she had concerning her mother’s death. She also carried the weight of the unknown, of who was driving the car that killed her mother.

“Let’s focus on the conversation itself. What do you want to ask her?”

“I haven’t gotten that far in my thinking. I just got so excited after talking with Kevin. But at the top of the list would be to ask if she saw who ran her down. Solve that fucking mystery.” Willow had been put out, to say the least concerning the police work.

“Right. That would give you closer if they caught the guy or girl.” The police had no leads. The CCTV equipment on the Square wasn’t working properly and the few stores that had it weren’t pointed in the right direction. They had no witnesses so far. They couldn’t even locate the person who made the 911 call.

Willow took a sip of her drink, set it down hard on the counter, and started pacing around the kitchen. “I want to apologize to her for our last argument, and all the ones before it. I want her caramel cake recipe and the password to her computer. I just really want to hear her voice.” She was jabbing the air with each point of the phone list she was creating in her head, but then her arms dropped to her sides with the last point.

“Okay. All valid reasons. I know despite your differences you miss her. The two of you had a complicated relationship but she was your mom.” I still wasn’t sold on this being a good idea, and the fallout could be catastrophic.

“What happens if she hasn’t changed, if she’s still the judgmental person she was in life? You know, if she is argumentative and difficult?” It was a legitimate question considering their relationship when Ava was alive. She disapproved of me and our marriage, which made every conversation difficult.

“Well I guess I could hang up and call back when she’s more stable?” She started laughing so hard she squeezed her legs together and walked sort of like a duck to the bathroom.

Laughter among tears is what I saw. I followed her into the bathroom. “If you’re done peeing on yourself, what you say we go down the street and get a Muffaletta from Dino’s?” I know this was big stuff but I was exhausted and hungry. Being hangry doesn’t look good on me.

“That sounds good, baby. Maybe I should sleep on this call business, not rush into it without thinking it through completely.”

“Sounds like a good plan, darlin’. Maybe we’ll call Kevin and see how he’s feeling about his call, If I remember right, he had a difficult relationship with his father. See what effect his call has had.”

“I find it funny thinking about having to pay $5000 just to get my mother’s new telephone number. Think she’s keeping it from me on purpose?”

“Why can’t the calls be made the other way around, and she would have to pay the $5000.”

“Wonder if I can call collect?”

“Now your thinking is on the right track.”