Candy Calls

‘Hi there sexy, my name is Candy. How can I make all your dreams come true?’

‘Hi Candy. I guess, uh... my name is John.’

‘Oooh, John, your voice is so hot. I bet you’re a big, strong guy too.’

‘No, I’m nothing like that. I mean, I was, or I used to be, in a past life. I’m actually a dumpy accountant from Newcastle.’

‘Come on Johnny-boy, don’t be like that, you’re selling yourself short. I bet you’re a real ladies’ man, a real hotshot in the sack. I bet all those accountant bunnies, or secretaries, or whatever, all want you so bad. I bet they talk about you in the break room and ...’

‘They’re called executive assistants now.’

‘Ok, executive assistant then. I bet they all secretly dream about getting all hot and heavy with you behind the copier.’

‘That’s not what it’s like, Candy, not even close. I work in a demountable behind a worksite, with constant jackhammering and pounding. The damn noise is non-stop. I can barely hear myself think most of the time.’

‘Your own little pad then, with cute little sales reps knocking on your door?’

‘Life is not an episode of Mad Men, Candy.’

‘Come on mate, give me a break will you, I’m just trying to do my job. Do you want to get this thing started or not?’

‘Mate? That’s not very sexy, is it?’

‘I’m sorry Johnny, it’s been a long day. What would you like me to do? Anything at all. There’s nothing off the table. You know I think you have a sexy voice. I’m getting hot just thinking about what you could do with that silver tongue of yours’

‘It’s just John.’

‘Ok, John. Well, what do you want?’

‘I, I don’t know. I just want to talk, I guess.’

‘It’s your dime.’

‘How do you know if you’re a good person, Candy?’

‘Baby, therapy aint sexy either.’

‘I’m serious, how do you know?’

‘I guess, it’s how you treat other people.’

‘Why do you keep talking in that husky voice?’

‘Habit, John. It’s my professional voice.’

‘Would you mind just talking normally?’

‘Like this?’

‘Yes. Thank you.’

‘You are welcome, John. You have such a manner about you, so polite, so proper.’

‘It’s how I was raised. My mum was very strict at times about that sort of thing.’

‘Yes, mine too. I think that was normal back in those days.’

‘What is your name, Candy? Your real name?’

‘We’re not allowed to say.’

‘I’ve never lied to you, Candy. I’ve been nothing but honest with you since you picked up the phone.’

‘I guess.’

‘Wouldn’t it be nice to have a real conversation now, right now, an everyday honest conversation.’

‘Yes, I suppose it would.’

‘When was the last time?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘I mean, the last time you had a real conversation?’

‘Every time is real, John. All my boys get the real Candy.’

‘The voice.’

‘Oops, sorry. It’s habit, you know.’

‘I thought we were being honest, Candy? Or whoever you are.’

‘I am, in a sense. I am Candy, Candy is me, somehow’.

‘Why don’t we just start again, but real this time? Two people having a conversation, without the masks or the pretence, without the ridiculous voices, just two people making a real connection. Hi, I’m John.’

Hi, I’m... I’m Pam.’

‘Hello Pam. Doesn’t that feel... good?’

‘It feels naughty, like I’m naked or something.’

‘Who are you, Pam?

‘It’s not very sexy, John, I must warn you.’

‘I never wanted it to be.’

‘Well, here it is, warts and all... I’m a sixty-nine-year-old former maths teacher from Melbourne. I love cooking and my footy. Ha, it sounds like I’m on one of those speed dating things.’

‘Wow, Pam. That’s not what I was expecting. How did you get into, um, adult entertainment.’

‘It’s just a job, John.’

‘I’m guessing you have kids? If you have devoted your life to working with kids, you must have some of your own?’

‘I.. I wish I had, but God never gave me that blessing.’

‘What’s god got to do with it?’

‘I’m not sure, but it just feels better that way, somehow.’

‘I am sorry, Pam. That must have been hard?’

‘Don’t pity me. I’ve had hundreds of kids over the years, hundreds of minds that I have nurtured, and seen them all grow into healthy wonderful adults. In a way, it was like they were all my kids.’

‘You promised me, Pam. That is a lie, the worst one, because it’s a lie to yourself.’

‘That’s mean, John.’

‘Is it true?’

‘I guess so.’

‘I’m still sorry. I can hear it in your voice. You feel like you’ve lost something, but it’s something you never had, Pam.’

‘That’s one way to look at it. I appreciate the sentiment, John, but I don’t think it’s that simple. But thank you.’ 

‘Where are you right now, Pam?’

‘I’m in a call centre, outside of Melbourne, headset on, knitting socks for my grandniece, clocking up a fat commission. Ha ha ha’

‘You have a nice laugh.’

‘Thank you, John. You know, I feel bad. This will cost you a fortune, you know?’

‘Don’t feel bad, I want to talk to you.’

‘There are people, you know, out there, who are better at this sort of thing than me. Better people that can help you. Professional people like, help-lines and such.’

‘I said I like talking to you.’

‘Why?’

‘You have a kind voice, Pam. You remind me of someone.’

‘Let me guess? Your wife or girlfriend, right?’

‘My mum.’

‘Oh’

‘Don’t worry, Pam. She was a young mum; young when she had me, young for her age... always. You sound just like her, with your normal voice that is. You sound young like she did, I mean.’

‘I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere? Ha ha ha.’

‘That laugh, just like my mums.’

‘Well thank you, John. She sounds like a lovely woman.’

Yes, she was.’

‘Tell me more about yourself, John. Who is this mysterious man on the other end of the phone?’

‘I’m just your average John.’

‘You sound anything but average. Most men would be getting their rocks off by now.’

‘Trust me, I’m nothing special.’

‘John, I don’t know you, you don’t know me, how can I trust you?’

‘Ok, that’s fair enough. Like I said, I’m a boring accountant working in a reverberating hell hole, with no air conditioning. My head is pounding, non-stop pounding.’

‘Why do you work next to a worksite if it’s so awful? Can’t you move somewhere, or work from home? That seems to be all the rage at the moment.’

‘The clients I work with prefer something a little, uh, out of the way, out of the spotlight. They like my hovel.’

‘Oh. Are they bad men?’

‘They don’t play well with others, let’s put it that way.’

‘It sounds dangerous, John.’

‘It’s a job, Pam. You can understand that, surely?’

‘Yes, I’m familiar with the idea, ha ha.’

‘You wouldn’t believe what I’ve seen, what I know, or how this country really works, who pulls the strings. I sleep with my ledger book under my pillow, god knows what would happen to me if it fell into the wrong hands. I don’t have to like them, but it’s amazing what I’ve learnt.’

‘What have you learnt, like, how to get rid of a body? Ha ha ha.’

‘You are a funny lady, Pam.’

‘Do you live in Newcastle?’

‘Yes, sadly. Until recently I still lived with my mum. Pathetic I know, but I think things are about to change. It’s about time I moved out of my mum’s shadow.’

‘I thought you loved your mum?’

‘I did, very much.’

‘You did? That’s quite brutal John.’

‘I’m just being honest, Pam, like I have from the beginning, completely.’

‘Have you, John?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where are you right now?’

‘In a phone booth.’

‘A phone booth?’

‘Yes, a phone booth.’

‘That’s a little... odd.’

‘Why?’

‘Well, do they even work anymore?’

‘I needed to get away from the noise. It never ends, Pam. Always the noise. The booth is a cone of silence.’

‘Are they still jackhammering at this time of night?’

‘There’s more than one source of noise. I can’t seem to escape it.’

‘Are you sure I’m the right person to be talking to about this, John? It sounds like you have a few, um, things to iron out?’

‘Your voice is so comforting. I don’t want to talk to a stranger. Look how far we’ve come.’

‘I really should go now though, John. I have other calls, other guys who like to hear my voice, though for other reasons, I suppose. I’m quite popular you know, John, a bit of a pro around here.’

‘Please don’t leave, Pam. Just a few more minutes.’

‘I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t... Hold on, it’s just occurred to me, if you aren’t using the phone booth, how are you talking to me?’

‘I’m using a mobile.’

‘Oh, ok. Ha ha, it’s not magic, then?’

‘But it’s not mine.’

‘What?’

‘It’s not my phone.’

‘Whose phone is it?’

‘It was my mum’s.’

‘It was your mum’s, what does that mean? Was, John? Why do you keep saying was? John, why do you say it was her phone... John?’

‘How do you know if you’re a good person, Candy?’

‘You know my name is Pam.’

‘I’ve done a terrible thing, Pam.’

‘What have you done? John? What have you done? Answer me, John. What have you...’

‘…’