Deceased and Departed Hotline

“Hello, this is Deceased and Departed, how may I help you today?” the bubbly woman answered on the phone. 

“Iwannatalk-to Mayzee Harper Smith. Birthdate is 10/12/23, Death date is 10/12/2042,” Ezra replied in a frenzied rush. 

“Ok, could you spell out her name for me?” the woman with the forceful high-pitched voice asked. 

Ezra paced around his tornado-wrecked, maze-like, shoebox for a bedroom, following the instructions of the hotline worker like he had done the past six times this week while stepping over the items he had left scattered on the ground, like gaming consoles and still-clean clothes. He counted down the seconds until she would answer the phone. Every time it was exactly thirty-two seconds. This hold, however, seemed to last longer.

“Hey.” 

Ezra straightened, pressing the phone closer to his ear, as a smile crossed his face at the mere sound of her voice. 

“I’ve missed you. I know I talked to you yesterday like always but it’s been so hard not seeing you every day at school now, you know. Not that I've gone in a while anyways.” He continued on about his conversation with Mayzee, telling her random little things like how he rediscovered the first gift she gave him- a vinyl from his favorite artist- while scavenging like a pillager through his closet to find the last remains of her memories. “..and then I asked my sister to make the brownies the way you always di-”

“I need to talk to you.” Ezra might have been going on for quite some time as he always paid for overtime call sessions but he was surprised to hear her cut him off. He was about to reply but she continued before he could say anything. 

“I am thinking of Moving.” There was no emotion, no tone, just a statement left to the wind for him to interpret. Or maybe that’s why she said it that way. So it could not be left up to interpretation. The sentence was clear and simple but it left Ezra scrambling for difficult answers and his head full of repugnant questions. 

“What? What do you mean? You said you were gonna stick arou-”

“Please, listen to me.” There it was again. “I miss you everyday, I really do.  But it breaks my heart to hear you when I can’t see, touch, or even smell you ever again. I think that the only way you-we find closure is to have a timeline in mind for this. We can’t continue like this forever, even though it will destroy me to really leave you. ” 

The air whooshed out of Ezra’s lungs and he stood for several moments, unmoving, unblinking. 

“Hello? Ezra?” 

The funny thing is, she didn’t even stumble over her words. She spoke to them seamlessly like she had been practicing for this moment. His moment of shock was quickly replaced with anger.

“How could you? So soon? Do you even know how much pain I’m in? Losing you has ruined me, my life.” He hated what he said when it erupted from his mouth but he couldn’t control the words, as they moved fluidly and unstoppable like water from a hurricane down a ravine. 

“It’s been three months. You make everything about you. Don't you know this hurts me too? Leaving you? But sticking around in this abyss hurts even more. There’s nowhere to go, nothing to do. It’s the waiting room of hell.” Mayzee was always a mover, always doing something. She could never sit around doing nothing, not for a moment, not even to wait for her friend to take her intoxicated self back home from the party. 

“How can you call me self absorbed when it was you who made that decision to go out that night and drive yourself home? You nearly killed a person, Mayzee.” He regretted it as soon as he said it. It was a low blow, even for him. 

“Yeah, you act like I don’t know that I killed myself and almost someone else. See, this is why I didn’t tell you. I wanted to talk to you first, out of everyone, but I knew you would act like this. I already told my parents and sisters. They actually understand that I want to leave this terrible half-world.” Mayzee had stuck it out longer than most people as so many can’t take it longer than a week. In fact, she was something of a statistical anomaly in terms of how long people last in the In Between. Ezra had done thorough research on the subject to count down how many days he would have left talking to her before she decided it would become unbearable. He originally had anticipated fewer days, but now it was too soon, too fast, too sudden. Like her death all over again. 

“But y-you don’t even know what’s out there,” he sucked in his breath and forced himself not to cry at all. 

“It must be better than this. And if I do end up in Hell, I know at least it will be more interesting.” It was a poor attempt at a joke, to make him smile or laugh. He did not. “This is going to be our last time talking, Ezra.”

“Wait, what? You could have told me earlier. Then I wouldn’t have fought with yo-”

“I think you would still feel all the same either way. It’s better this way, you know? No more prolonged, self-imposed torture. This is the way it should have been.” 

He was at a loss for words. He knew he couldn’t change her mind at this point, she was too far gone. Before he could get another word in the phone call clicked off and ended with an automated message: 

“Thank you for calling Deceased and Departed. We hoped you enjoyed your Artificial Intelligence conversation with your passed companion. Because your methods of payment have declined multiple times, no further contact is permitted. Remember to have very spiritful day.”