Phone Service

Anita Littledick answered the phone on the third ring. Before she even had a chance to say hello, a voice was shouting on the other end. “Anita, where the heck are you??” It was Karen Catheter, one of her friends from work. “I’ve been pounding on your door for 1 second. Why are you not at home?”

“Oh sorry, Karen. I, uh, well. What year is it?”

“Girl, it’s 2016, four years since the COVID-19 virus took the lives of nearly 14,000,000,000 people.”

Anita yawned. She felt tired and disoriented. Something about what Karen said didn’t seem quite right. “If it’s 2016, I should be home by now. Knock again.”

“Ok. Did you hear it? I knocked one single time, just like Vanilla Ice does in the film Cool as Ice.”

“It didn’t come through.”

“I’m knocking consistently now. I’m ringing the dang doorbell. Do you hear it? Maybe just look around. Are you at home?”

Anita looked around. She was in a perfectly square room, about 16’ by 16’. Each wall was painted a different color; pink, yellow, auburn, and puce. The ceiling was painted like a forest, a swath of trees taking root in the auburn wall. The carpet was brown shag. On the pink wall was a framed one sheet poster for the 1991 motion picture Cool as Ice. She was sitting in a toilet with no lid, pressed against the yellow wall. There was no water in it, or any connection to plumbing. In one corner of the room was a dead stuffed skunk wearing sunglasses. On the floor near her left foot was a small pink caboodle makeup case from Claire’s that she bought at the mall in 1998. They typically run $22-$33 in 2024. In the middle of the room was an open bear trap with a pack of matches lying on the center. On the floor next to that, two human skeletons were boning. Another human skeleton stood over them, frequently clearing its throat and tapping its watch. The room had no doors and no windows. No apparent way out. “Yeah,” Anita said. “I’m at home.”

“It’s 2016, doll, are you sure it’s the right home? You should have heard me by now.”

“Um. Wait, did you say there’s a door? No, no, no, you’re in the wrong place, babe.”

“Anita! I am not the one… ugh! You need to reorient yourself. When are you? Do you remember the COVID-19 virus?”

“Duh, bitch. I lost Junk the Skunk to that virus. I see her there in the corner. Oh now hold up a minute…”

As she spoke, Junk the Skunk scurried forward. “Y’all say my name?” she squeaked.

“Ha ha. Just kidding,” Anita laughed. “Junk’s not dead yet.”

“Alright, Anita. I know when you are now. You are not in the right time. I need you to check the photograph. And hurry. My phone is gonna die soon. I’m at 6%.”

“Fiiiiiiine, Karen. I’ll do the photo jump. I’ve got it in the caboodle right here. Ooh, lemme just grab these matches real quick.”

“Do not touch the matches! The bear trap will take your hand off, idiot. You’re trying to kick your arson habit, remember?”

“Nope.”

“Of course not. Just leave the matches, Anita. No more arson!”

“You’re seriously telling me that in 2016, I’m no longer an arsonist?”

“I didn’t set up that bear trap, girl. Who do you think did, one of the skeletons? Gimme a break. You did because you’re trying to better yourself. Or at least you are in 2024, which I think is the year you’re in now.”

“Better myself? That doesn’t sound like me.”

“Anita.” Karen was getting exasperated. She took a long toke off that sweet vape. “You know how high the stakes are here. And my phone is at 3%. I need you to get on with this, babe.”

“One second, Karen.” Junk the Skunk was scratching at her leg. “Can I help you?” she asked her.

“Y’all say sumthin’ about me being dead?”

“You’ll be fine. Just wear a mask.”

Junk tipped her shades and looked up at Anita. “Y’all want me to cover up this pretty face?”

“Hee hee, no,” Anita said sheepishly. “But it’s for your own safety.”

“Oh my god,” Karen said. “Girl! Get your shit together. Hello? Hello?? My fucking phone is dead.”

Karen stared at the blank orange screen of her phone. She put it in her pocket and took a deep breath. She was in the hallway of an apartment complex, in front of the last door on the left. On one side of the door was a framed one sheet poster for the 1987 motion picture Disorderlies starring The Fat Boys. On the other side was a framed one sheet poster for the 2002 motion picture Crossroads starring Britney Spears. The carpet was brown shag. The ceiling was brown shag. The walls were painted piss green. At the end of the hallway were elevator doors that had never been opened. According to legend, what lived behind those doors, was an elevator.

Karen walked to the next apartment over, and knocked a few times. “Come in,” she heard. She turned the spiked leather doorknob and let herself in. Fuckin’ Derek was wearing a deep v-neck with his chest hair on display, a tight pair of khakis, and a baseball cap that said “Ask me”. He was holding a fire extinguisher and spraying it at his couch, which was on fire and had just spread to his curtains.

“Hey, Fuckin’ Derek, I need to reach Anita.”

“Oh, funny, she was just here.”

“Yeah, I can see that. She’s in 2024. Do you have a photograph I can use?”

“I’m afraid she’s got the only ones in service right now. Why? What’s up?”

“I can’t tell you. I’m sorry, but this one is classified.”

“Oh, come on. I’m about to catch on fire and die, so ummm, I think it’s fine.”

“Yeah, ok. Gabby and Slimy Courtney just put the finishing touches on the COVID-19 virus. I need to get to 2012 to plant it. Otherwise, we won’t get this virus rolling until, I guess right now. I mean, can you imagine? COVID-19 not hitting the world and killing 14,000,000,000 people until 2016? It would destroy the very fabric of existence. Not to mention, it already happened. If I don’t get back there to plant it, well, you know the drill.”

“You may want to check your figures, Karen. It only killed 14,000,000 people.”

“What? No. That can’t be. If that’s true, Fuckin’ Derek, time is really running out. I’ve got to get to Anita!”

Fuckin’ Derek’s fire extinguisher ran out and he had gotten nowhere with it. The flames jumped to his chest hair. He lightly patted it, but it was no use. It had spread to his face and baseball cap. In no time, his entire body was up in flames. “Hey, you know what?” he said. “I just remembered something. Anita did mention she dropped off a photo for you a few days ago when I wasn’t home. I was supposed to deliver it to you.” Fuckin’ Derek slapped his forehead. “Let me just grab that real quick.”

“How about you just tell me where it is? I feel like the person not on fire should be the one to grab it? Maybe?”

“Oh, it’s no trouble. I’ve got it right over here on the table.”

Fuckin’ Derek took a few steps to the table and picked up a small lamp. Underneath it was a photograph of a cemetery covered in snow. There were rows of gravestones stretching back for miles. All were unmarked but one, front row center. The gravestone read, “THE UNIVERSE. DIED 2016. YOU WANNA KNOW WHY? FUCKIN’ DEREK.” Fuckin’ Derek reached out his bony hand, flesh sizzling and oozing off. He tried to pick it up, and the photo immediately went up in flames. It was gone. So was hope. He looked to Karen, and gave her a look as if to say “yikes, sorry,” but so much flesh had burned off his face she couldn’t even read the expression. He finally collapsed, dead.

Karen put her hand to her cheek and shook her head. It was up to Anita now to remember her job today.

At that moment, eight years later, Anita was buttoning up her jorts. Junk the Skunk was lying on the floor, on her back. She was patting her own belly, feeling satiated. “Y’all got any plans today?” she asked.

“No plans,” Anita said. “I talked to Karen earlier. She said to take the day off.”