An Unexpected Conversation

“Hello?” Sara listened but the line had gone dead.

“Another one?” John asked looking up from his toast and eggs.

“Yeah,” she stared at the old phone hanging in her hand then slid it into the cradle on the wall, “third time this week. Nobody ever calls it, now we’re getting hang-ups. Maybe it’s broken. I’ll call the company to look at it in the morning.”

“Why don’t you just get rid of that old thing? Nobody else even has one anymore.” John told her waving his cell phone around like a technological flag.

“Maybe,” she returned to her own breakfast, “I don’t know. I’ve always just had it. My dad had it installed when I was six.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I can even remember the first time I got a phone call.” She stared off thoughtfully as the memory filled her mind.

“Who was it?” John asked interrupting her reverie.

“My dad.” She pointed at an old, broken chair at the end of the table. “I stood in that chair because I couldn’t reach the handle.”

“I really should fix that thing,” John said absently. “Why did your dad call you?” He asked curiously.

“Well, no one ever called back then either, I guess.” She paused laughing at the thought. “And I kept asking my dad what it was for. So he went down to that old corner booth down the road and he called me.” She smiled wistfully.

“What?” John returned her smile. “What did you remember?”

“Hey Doodle,” Sara mimicked a mans’ voice, “I heard you were having some trouble understanding how this here squawk box works!”

They both enjoyed a merry laugh.

“Doodle?” John teased.

“You know my dad called me Doodle,” Sara patted his forearm playfully.

“I forgot,” he looked at the phone on the wall. “Anyway, technology has moved on. Honestly, I can’t believe they’re still servicing these old phones.”

“I know,” she shrugged, “but I like it. It helps me remember who we use to be.”

“Who did we use to be?” John asked around the toast in his mouth.

“I don’t know,” Sara glanced around thoughtfully, “a family. You know?”

“We’re a family,” John said feigning emotional distress.

“Not like us,” she drummed her palm on the table, “it was simple and easy then. Don’t you remember how slower, more complete, life felt when your parents took care of everything?”

“Of course it was easier when mom and dad took all the responsibility. All we ever did was play and cause trouble.”

“You caused trouble,” Sara playfully chided him, “I just played.”

“Played? Is that what you called it?” John shot back just as playfully.

“Called what?” Sara asked.

“Always goading me into trouble! Come on John my dad's not home!” He mimicked her voice.

“I did not,” Sara teased.

“You did.” John insisted in mock seriousness.

“I did,” Sara agreed with a giggle, “I was awful.”

“Yes,” John pounded the table for emphasize, “you were.”

As they laughed happily together the wall phone rang once more. They both popped up to answer it, Sara was first to the receiver.

“Hello?” She waited for a pause then laughed as she hung it up.

“You win,” she informed him, “I’ll have it taken out.”

“Who was it?” He insisted.

“Another hang up,” she laughed, “we only ever get hang-ups these days. I mean people just call our cells like you said.”

As if to emphasize this a cellphone began sounding off from inside her pocket. “See?” She shrugged as she answered it. “Yep,” she kissed John on the cheek, “on my way!” She hung up.

“Samantha has...” Sara started to explain.

”...gotten the paperwork together.” He finished as he kissed her back. “I know, go.”

“I’ll call the phone people.” She kissed him again.

“Okay,” he shooed her away, “go.”

She vanished out the front door already texting further instructions to Samantha.

That day was full of the usual ups and downs of a typical small-town workforce. Sara secured two interviews for her local PBS show and lost one. John coached a boys math grade up from a D to a B and broke up a fistfight.

So it was with thoughts of today’s endeavors and tomorrow's plans cluttering her mind that Sara was home for a full ten minutes before she realized John was not home. He should have been home two hours ago.

As she pulled out her cell to text him the wall phone rang. She snatched it up thinking it might be John. “Yes?” After a short pause, she slammed it down with a snort. “Tomorrow!” She pointed threateningly at the phone. “You are getting taken out of here!”

It rang once more, she growled as she turned her back on it to text John. ‘Where are you?’ The phone continued to ring behind her. “Shut up! Will you?” She whirled around to answer the ring. “Hello?” She barked into the receiver.

With another small pause, she smiled wickedly to herself. “No one is ever going to be there! It’s a joke right? Are you doing this John?” She looked around for a hidden camera, waving the phone about irritably.

She hung up the phone as her cell signaled an answering text. ‘On my way, soon. Explain when I get there.’ It read. She sighed with relief as the wall phone rang yet again. She pulled the handset from its cradle dropping it to the floor.

She was headed for the kitchen to scrounge up some dinner makings when she heard it.

“Hello? Anybody there?” A voice had called from the dangling receiver. Sara froze before turning to stare at it. “Doodle?” The voice called after a short pause.

Sara felt herself reaching for the phone without knowing why she was doing it. “Hey, Doodle!” The voice sang out as Sara pulled it to her ear. “Hello” She spoke just above a whisper. A silence filled the other end of the line. “Daddy?” Her voice shook along with her hands as she dared to speak.

“Hey Doodle,” her fathers’ voice spoke in her ear.

“Daddy?” Her heart pounded horribly fast, this was not possible. “Where are you?” She asked her voice unsteady.

“Down at the payphone, of course!” He chuckled as the line went dead.

“The payphone?” Sara repeated as she hung up the phone, it did not ring again.

Suddenly Sara snatched her keys from where she had left them on the counter and dashed out the door recklessly.

Her vision was partially blurred by her panic, she was not really focusing on anything in her rush. Dad? Dad? How could Dad be calling her from that old payphone? Her thoughts hurtled along as fast as her car did. The phone was only half a mile up the road but she still got there in record time. She jumped from the car before it had even completely died off.

The phone booth was empty, the receiver snug in its cradle. She looked around bewildered. “Dad?” She yelled turning in a full circle on the sidewalk.

Suddenly from across the street, she heard her name. “Sara?” She froze at the sound of it. After a moment it came again. “Sara? What are you doing here?” She turned to see John across the street heading in her direction.

Behind him, a few students were hanging a banner that they had painted for a bake sale the following week. He had been standing between the two trees admiring the banner when he had spotted her.

With a friendly wave, he began jogging toward her. “Hey! I thought you were at home?” She gave a confused smile as he approached. “I was.” She pointed at the booth but could think of nothing to explain why she was there for an old phone booth.

Just as he hugged her a speeding car came rushing around the corner. They turned, surprised, to watch as the tires lost their traction causing the car to spin out. It whirled around wildly until coming to a jarring halt. The banner John had just been standing under plastered across the windshield. The remaining students had scattered out of the way, just in time.

John stared in shock. “I was just standing there!”

Sara nodded her agreement in shock as the owner of the car, a young man, crawled out shaken but okay.

“I know,” Sara said as behind her the phone rang. She spun around to see the empty phone booth ringing. She rushed over answering it. “Hello?”

A pause then, “Hey Doodle!” She gasped. “Daddy?” The line went dead. “Hello, Daddy?” But there was no answering reply.

John walked over. “What are you doing?” Sara absently hung up the phone.

“Nothing,” she stared at John for a moment, looked at the empty booth, back to the wrecked car, and then back at John, “let’s just go home.”

As John drove home Sara stared out the window thoughtfully. “You know,” she finally spoke up, “if I hadn’t come down here that car would have hit you.”

“No it wouldn’t have,” John chided.

“I think it would have,” she insisted.

“Why did you come down, anyway?”

“I thought,” she paused, “someone called me from the payphone.” She chuckled uncomfortably.

“Really? Who?” John asked curiously.

“Nobody important,” she comforted him.

“You know what,” she spoke thoughtfully, “I think we should keep that old wall phone.”

“Yeah? Why?” He asked as they pulled into the driveway.

“I told you,” she smiled, “I like having it.”

“Okay,” he shrugged, “if that’s what you want.” John laughed.

That night and many nights thereafter Sara waited, hopefully, for the wall phone to ring. But it never rang again.