Call From the Past

            A dulcet light filtered through the canted blinds adorning my window. As the morning sun trickled into the room, the corners became clear, and the dimness was replaced with a vibrant morning. The peace was shattered by a cacophonous ringtone. At first, I ignored it, assuming some unknown number was trying to call me. A scammer or telemarketer that was sold my number after I accidentally answered the call last week thinking it had been from Ava. The ringing continued and prodded me to move. I lazily reached for my phone, dressed in its frog case, only to find it was silent. Curiosity filled me and I sat up, blinking the morning haze from my blurry eyes. The sound was coming from the foot of my bed, and sitting there was a black phone, not unlike my own in shape. I carefully stepped out of my bed, searching my room and quaint apartment for anyone who could’ve broken in and left it. It certainly seemed odd. Maybe it was left as a ransom notice. Surely, I shouldn’t pick it up and answer. A thick pillow caught my eye, and I stuffed it atop the phone, doing a decent job at masking the horrendous sound. I clapped my hands and decided to think it over during breakfast. The kitchen wasn’t far, however even after upturning every cabinet, it seemed I was completely out of anything I would normally eat. I sighed and began to heat up two slices of bread for a makeshift toast breakfast. Even from my kitchen, the shrill screaming of the phone caught my ear and wouldn’t let go. I shook my head and took out my own phone, swiftly calling a number I knew would ring dead.

“The wireless caller you are attempting to dial is not in service.”

I hung up. I’m not sure why I thought the outcome would be different. Though the mysterious phone in my room felt auspicious. Maybe, just maybe, if I answer that phone it will be her on the other end of the line. Happy and well and speaking to me again. The ring continued.

Suddenly I tuned back into life and the smell of burning replaced my sensory priority. The toast inside the toaster was blackened and charred, and smoke was rising quickly through the kitchen air. I ripped the plug from the wall and fanned the air with my hands, anxiously eyeing the smoke detector gazing menacingly from the ceiling. A tense moment passed as the smoke cleared from the room.

Now, a knock at the door that made me jump.

“Just one moment of peace,” I said to myself.

I checked the peephole and saw nothing there.

“I must be losing it.”

A knock again.

This time my face was pressed to the peephole before the third hit of the door came and I caught a glimpse of an arm and brown hair jerk out of sight. The phone, and now her hair? It all seemed too weird to be a coincidence. The thought reminded me of the ringing, which I hadn’t heard in some time now. I warily left the door to check on the phone. I removed the pillow and…nothing. The phone was missing. I frantically looked around the room and even checked the peephole to see if anyone was there. Again, nothing. Then, as I began to panic, the ring started again. I rushed to the sound and found it hidden underneath a fold of blanket. It was strange, it felt too sleek. Like if I didn’t hold it tight it would find a way to slip right out of my hands. I checked the caller id, despite my better judgement.

No Caller ID.

Of course, as expected. But what if? Maybe it is her. Now it was my phone's turn to ring. I set down the black phone and answered my own cell.

“Hello?”

“I’m here.”

“So that was you?” I said, rushing to the door and throwing it open.

“Hey there. Was what me?” Michael said, his voice coming through both the phone and from him.

I hung up the phone and embraced him.

“How’re you doing?” he asked.

“I’m good, I'm good, don’t worry. You weren’t knocking just now?”

“No, I wasn’t, you sure you’re okay? And you’re still alright with going today?” he asked.

I shrugged, “Yeah of course.”

He nodded, his eyes betraying hints of suspicion and concern. I know why he’s so worried, why they all are about me. I don’t know why they have such problems with hope.

“What’s that noise by the way?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“That noise?? The loud ringing?” he asked, motioning to the air around us.

“Oh right, check this out.” I said, ushering him in.

I brandished the phone towards him, “This just showed up this morning, won’t stop ringing for very long and no caller ID.”

He squinted.

“You should call the police, that could really be dangerous.”

“Nah I’m sure it’s fine. I’m kinda curious actually,” I said.

“Who do you think is going to be calling?” he asked, his tone dropping.

“No one. Damn, can’t I be curious?” I said, waving him off.

“Whatever,” he said, shaking his head, “ready to go?”

“Yeah, can we grab some food on the way? I burned my toast.”

“Sounds good, I was planning to.”

We started to leave and once his back was turned, I slid the now silent phone into my pocket.

“You coming?”

“Yeah,” I said, “sorry forgot my phone.”

He nodded slowly, closing my door behind me. We walked to the car in silence, smiling and waving to my neighbors who had just pulled in. It was a hot day. Hot and humid. I could feel rain coming and the sky in the distance was dark. Michael looked up with his nose scrunched.

“We should probably hurry; it looks like rain.”

I climbed into his passenger seat and felt the heat of the leather on my back. The car felt like it was cooking me.

“Jesus what a day,” Michael said, cranking up the A/C as soon as he got in.

“Damn, maybe we should do this another day.”

Michael turned off the engine.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“Yeah sorry, just a joke.”

Michael nodded and started the car again. We drove in silence, listening to the dull hum of the engine and the sound of the tires on the road. After a few miles, Michael pulled into a local strip mall. The parking lot was packed today, nearly overflowing with people that had recently gotten off for summer vacation. Parking was a pain, and we barely squeezed his ancient sedan into a gap between two cars that were parked far out of their own lines. Inside our usual burger place there was a steady line of people, looking to collect mobile pickup orders.

“Let’s pray they have seats huh.” Michael said, holding the door open.

Inside was cool but the A/C fighting for its life with the mass of people. Somehow, the air was stickier and thicker than outside. We pushed through the waiting crowd to the counter and were greeted by a cashier.

“Welcome to…the Hungry … Burger,” they said through heavy breaths, “how may I serve you today?”

“I’ll take a number two please, lemonade as the drink,” Michael said, “you want anything?”

“Yeah, can I please get a number three with lemonade please?” I asked, voice quieter than I intended.

“Yep, that’ll be fifteen ninety-five.”

Michael stepped in front of me, offering a wad of bills to the cashier, who thanked him and gave him the receipt for the order.

“Thank you! Have a great day!”

“You too.”

We ducked to our left, dodging the overwhelming amount of people.

“Our number is three ninety-seven,” he said, “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

He gazed down the restaurant at a second larger line, “hopefully…”

“Sure, sounds good,” I said, accepting the receipt.

He disappeared into the mass, and I sat in a open bar stool near the pickup counter. Then the ring started again. A few people glanced at me with annoyed expressions as the ringtone continued. It really was a horrific one, as if it was made to encourage you to pick up the phone out of spite. Out of the corner of my eye a girl stuck to my vision. Long brown hair, pale skin with freckles adorning the arms. I found myself staring, feeling a swelling sensation in my chest.

“Ava?” I murmured.

She stopped, but there was no way she could have heard me, right? She turned and started to walk in my direction. I hopped off the barstool and stumbled a step forward. She hadn’t even looked at me yet and as she got within arm’s reach she scrunched up her nose and looked around with the same expression Ava used to.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Y-yes?”

“I think your phone is going off,” she said, pointing down at my pocket.

“Oh yeah, you’re right. Thanks-”

“No problem, have a nice day!”

And she was gone, walking off past me, leaving me to the ringing once again. I turned to see where she was. Who she may have been walking towards, but all I saw was her dissolve into the crowd towards the pickup counter. No chance I could tell Michael about this. He was worried enough as it was. The phone vibrated in my hand, urging me to answer the phone. To see who was on the other end of the line.

“Three ninety-seven!”

With a jolt I spun around, flinching at the sudden noise. I stuffed the phone back into my pocket, pressing it between my phone and my thigh. My hands trembled and I removed the receipt from my pocket, handing it wordlessly to the employee.

“Here you go! Have a nice afternoon!” she said.

“You too,” I half mumbled at her.

With the rough paper bag in hand, I went off in search of Michael. Gently pushing my way through the crowd, I found my way to the bathrooms. With no Michael in sight, I propped myself against the wall and waited. I closed my eyes and tried to drown the phone's vibration and noise out with the sounds of the crowd around me. My hand felt drawn to the phone again, the image of the girl still fresh in my mind, seeing Ava but some twisted version that didn’t recognize me. What if it was Ava on the line? I curled my fingers around the phone, raising it back out of my pocket. My thumb hovered over the green accept button.

“Hey, damn you got the food already, that was quick.”

“Yeah, it was,” I said, absentmindedly putting the phone back again, the ringtone stopping.

Michael gave me a look but stayed silent, taking us to a free two-person table. I unwrapped the foil, careful not to burn myself.

“Did you see that girl earlier?” I asked.

Michael chewed for a moment then swallowed hard.

“What girl?”

“She uh, she looked like Ava.”

Michael put his burger down and laced his fingers together, “No. I didn’t see anyone that looked like her. Are you sure you actually saw someone?”

His words were gentle, but they still had that undertone that cut like a knife. Ever since the accident Michael had seemed like he was walking on eggshells around me but also couldn’t stand to be away from me. It felt like he was miserable, and it made me even guiltier to think about.

“I think so, I guess I don’t know.”

He must’ve seen me slump because he leaned over and patted me on the shoulder.

“It takes time. That’s what Dr. Roberts told me. Try to finish your burger,” he said, going back to eating.

My stomach churned and growled against my will. He knew me too well. I sighed and took a bite from the burger. At one point I would have lauded over the chefs with praise and savored every juicy bite of the now bland burger. Despite the taste of sawdust, I ate the entire meal, pretending not to see Michael sneak glances to make sure I was eating.

As Michael finished his burger he turned to me, “Do you still have the receipt?” he asked.

“Oh yeah here,” I said, fishing through my pockets, gently brushing the phone.

I pulled out a heavily wadded receipt from the depths and handed it to him.

He gave me a puzzled look and unraveled the receipt, “Second-Hand Electronics?” he said.

I felt my other pocket, “Oh, sorry here, this is the one.”

He handed me back the old receipt and took his own.

“What did you buy from Second-Hand? Making a new PC?” he asked.

“I think it’s just an old receipt.”

He shrugged and stood, and we made our way back to the car. The sky outside had turned a dirty yellow and the wind had picked up in a most ferocious way.

“Cold fronts here I’d say!” I said with a laugh.

“Yeah, we better get moving, looks like it’s about to pour.”

The drive to the cemetery wasn’t far from the strip mall, a few miles out but the roads were bottlenecked with people rushing home. And then the phone began to ring again.

“You brought that thing?” Michael said, glaring.

“Well…I don’t know, I'm kinda curious. And you know. What if it’s actually her.”

Michael pulled off to the side of the road, “What if it’s who?” he asked.

“Can’t I just enjoy the idea? What’s so wrong about that?” I said, I had hoped to avoid this conversation.

“Where did you even get that phone?”

“I told you; it was on the foot of my bed this morning.”

Michael breathed heavily, clearly gathering his thoughts into words.

“Where do you think we are going?” he asked quietly.

“I know where. The cemetery.”

“Yes, but why do you think we are?”

I stayed silent.

“Say it.”

“Haven’t I said it by coming with you?”

“We aren’t going anywhere until you say it.” he said, taking the key out of the ignition.

“The rain is gonna hit us dude, just drive.” I said, waving my hands in exasperation.

Michael sat in his seat; arms crossed across his chest as we listened to the ringtone play on. Each time the sound rang Michael twitched.

Finally, he snapped, “Would you please just answer that damn thing? Or throw it out the window.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to answer?”

“I want it to stop ringing.”

A car honked behind us and Michael grunted before putting the key back in the ignition, turning the car back on.

“We’re going to visit her gravestone. That’s why we’re here and that’s where we are going,” he said, pulling back onto the road.

The ringtone eventually stopped again, and the car was silent the rest of the drive. He pulled into the deserted cemetery parking lot. The wind had somehow got stronger, enough to rattle the car on its axles and it almost blew me over when I stepped out of the car.

“Do you remember where she’s buried?” he asked me.

I didn’t answer.

“Follow me,” he sighed.

The cemetery wasn’t big, but it felt like a lifetime walking to her stone. Every so often Michael would quickly check behind him and then mask it by studying the sky that had started swirling. A single slab. That was all that supposedly marked what she had been. Etched into the stone’s cold, dead face were the words “Ava Carter. Died as she lived; laughing.” The year and her parents' names followed, partially obscured by scattered flowers that threatened to blow away in the wind. Michael sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve, then he knelt down and removed a pin from his pocket and rested it beside the stone.

“Where's that one from?” I asked.

“She bought it for me, after I broke my arm and couldn’t go on the vacation with you all.”

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. Then the phone rang again, and Michael sighed, stomping his feet in a huff.

“Can you just turn it off please? You may not be able to accept it yet, but I have. And I need this.”

I took the phone out of my pocket again and stared at the screen. I carefully held down the power button and watched the screen fade out, the tone with it.

“Thank you,” he whispered, returning to his staring at the grave.

I stepped away, leaving him to his vigil. I then quietly took my phone out of my pocket and called Ava’s number. As the same message played, reminding me the number wasn’t in service, a rain droplet hit the screen and distorted the text behind it. Michael held his hand out and removed an umbrella from his pocket and then expanded it above himself, careful to cover the gravestone as well. With Michael distracted I took out the other phone and turned it back on, quickly answering the call that appeared before it could make noise.

“Hello?” I said, answering the phone.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and there she stood.

“Are you talking to me?” she asked, a grin filling her face.

“Maybe.”

She looked over to Michael, “why’s Michael so sad.”

“He thinks you died in the crash,” I said, dropping my phone to the ground.

She giggled and hugged me, enveloping me in the warmth of her arms. Even the rain seemed to pass around us as we embraced.

“But,” my words still echoed, “why didn’t you answer the phone?”

“For the same reason you didn’t.”

“But I did now, I answered it and you’re here.”

I called her again, this time from the black phone.

“The wireless caller you’re attempting to dial is not available.”

“Ava- why won’t you answer?”

She looked at me and took my hand, rubbing her cheek against it. The black phone rang again in my hand.

“Answer the call,” she said, a pained smile on her face as she walked over to Michael.

And so I did.

“Hello?” I said, picking up my phone from the ground.

“Hello?” it said back with my own voice.

“I miss you,” I said.

It felt nice to hear the echo, I could almost pretend it was her.

“Love you, sleep well.”

I swallowed a sob and hung up the phones, looking back to where Ava and Michael had been. Ava was now nowhere to be seen, and Michael was sitting on a patch of dirt, saying something I couldn’t hear. I dropped the black phone to my side, the rain pattering off of my clothes and their screens. Tears fell freely from my eyes now and I plodded over to Michael.

“Hey,” he said, voice cracking slightly as he attempted to conceal his tears.

“We’re here because she died,” I admitted.

“Yes,” he whispered.

We sat in silence for some time, listening to the rain hit the ground and the thunder roll overhead.

“What do I do now?” I asked softly.

“She would want you to live, so start with that and then,” he shrugged, “see where living goes. I’m no therapist.”

“She’d be happy you were here, even if only to keep me alive,” I laughed.

“Well, my sister did always have that soft spot for you. I’ve been trying not to blame myself for what happened but,” he repeated the shrug, his voice cutting off as his face contorted to hold in tears.

“I’m sorry I’ve been this mess. I can’t imagine what it was like being around someone who, you know, thought she was still around.”

“I felt better,” he admitted, “I felt like I didn’t care at all because I wanted to move on, and you still were waiting on her.”

I took out my phone again, the case she had gotten me wet from the rain. I opened the last voicemail she had ever sent me and let it play, glancing at Michael.

“Heyyy I think you were asleep when I called you but anyway, if Michael comes knocking, tell him I’m fine, me and Brooke are going out for a drive to blow off some steam. And actually you know what? tell Michael he should worry because he’s a little goblin who should learn not to use all of my drink and not tell me HAH moron. He didn’t even ask…whatever… I’ll be back later, love you and sleep well! And tell him I love him too I guess, I think I was a bit harsh on him. Like maybe a lot too harsh.”

The dial tone clicked, and Michael stared at the rough stone that covered his sister.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” he said, half laughing half sobbing the words out.

“I guess we will see,” I said, scooting closer and taking the case off my phone and resting it next to his pin, “see where living goes.”