One Ringer
by: j.l. carey jr.
The clock loomed high on the wall above the phone. It hung there like the moon over a grave on an old B movie poster. Ominous. I could feel the second hand crawling with the sweat down my back. It was hot as hell in that room, but I couldn’t seem to stop shaking.
“So do you have any kids?” he said, breaking Luna’s silent ticking.
“Um. Yes. Yes I do,” I told him. “I have a daughter.”
“Yeah,” he said, rolling his head from the ceiling to the floor.
“Yes,” I replied. “And do you?”
“I have three.” He grinned. “Three boys.”
I smiled at him awkwardly. “They must be a handful.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“I can imagine three is. My daughter is hard enough to handle and she is only one kid.”
“How old is your daughter?” he asked, with some stern intrigue in his voice.
“She is seven. But, she thinks that she is fifteen,” I added.
“Isn’t that the truth? The man laughed.
I smiled and asked him how old his sons were. The question seemed to stunt his laugh.
“Ahh. Well, my boys are all grown now.”
“Really! Are any of them married?”
“To be honest with you, I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken in years. I don’t think they give two shits about me. I can’t blame’m though. After their mother and I divorced I wasn’t much of a father to them. I spent most of my time working.”
I froze for a moment as a beeping went off. Fear and adrenaline charged through me before I realized that it was only the timer on my watch. My brain seemed to cramp as I asked myself why? Why had I allowed myself to get involved in this chaos? Why?
With a breath of relief I shut the watch off and then double-checked it again to make sure. Still bug-eyed, I glanced up at that clock. That damned clock, Luna in orbit. Then turning back to him I said, “I’m sorry. My watch startled me. I always forget to shut it off so every day it beeps at 4:50. You would think that I would be use to it by now.” I gave him a half-laugh that was quite fraudulent and he returned one to me that was equally unbelievable.
“So, what’s your daughter’s name?” he asked as if my little outburst had never taken place.
“Her name is Gabriella or, or Gabby for short.”
“Does her name fit her?”
“What’s that?”
“Does her name fit her? You know the name Gabby. Does it fit her personality?”
“Oh. Yes. Yes, she will talk to you till no end.” I chuckled at my own inability to get what he was saying. “She will ask you questions to the point of insanity also.”
“Yeah. I remember when my boys were like that.”
“Yes. I remember just the other day my daughter asked me how cars moved so fast. I told her that it was the engine of course. She asks then how does the engine work. I say it uses gas. Well how does it use gas and on and on. Finally I had to tell her enough was enough.”
“You do. Sometimes you have to stopp’em or they’ll just keep going.”
“Yes. Yes.” I caught myself staring at the clock again and then the phone. I didn’t want to look at the phone, but I did. Why did I look at it? Why was I even here at all? I should be at home right now. I never should have got involved. I tried to cloud my mind with reassurance. Thoughts of how life would be once this was all over and I had the money to provide a good life for my family. I rubbed my hands on my eyes to try and break the spell. “I’m sorry what was that?”
“I said kids can be pretty unpredictable with what they come up with.”
“Oh. Yes, they can be. Life itself can be pretty unpredictable though.”
“Yeah, sometimes. Although, I think life in general can be pretty predictable. You’re born, you live and then you die. The rest is just filler and even most of that is predictable. I think that’s why most peoples lives become boring and monotonous.”
“Perhaps? Perhaps they only believe their lives are boring and choose to ignore the possibilities that surround them though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes I think it’s the easy way for people to live their simple and monotonous lives. They think that everything is the same old same old even when it is not.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s like when a family member is killed in a car crash. Everyone feels the loss of that person at first, but with in no time at all they’ve moved on. They go right back to Monday night football and P.T.A. meetings and it’s as if that person never existed.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point. Don’t you think your daughter would miss you if you were gone though?”
“Yes. Yes of course. She would be sad for a while, but she would move on in time and go right back to playing Barbie’s with her friends.”
“Don’t you think that it would have a tremendous impact on her life?”
“Yes.”
“It would probably change her personality and her entire outlook on life.”
“Yes. Probably”
“I bet it’s even safe to say…”
Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnngggggggg. It came. What I had feared and prayed against since the night my fate was decided, when I was the one who had been picked to stay back. It had come. The phone had wrung.
I looked at the clock, Luna and her second hand was pulling fast away from the five, as if she were gesturing a wave goodbye. That cold sweaty feeling rushed over me again, as I stood up. I slid my hand into the pocket of my jacket and felt the cold metal of my revolver. I don’t remember firing it. There was only the smell of the gun and Jon’s head drooping over his now lifeless body. His hulking frame strapped in the chair with the black mask covering his eyes, still blocking out his true whereabouts or perhaps now he saw everything perfectly clear? That we had stolen him away from his plush home in the middle of the night and that no one cared enough to get him back. “I am sorry my friend. I guess your sons didn’t give two shits about you.”
Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggggg. Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggggg. Brrrrrr.
“Hello?” I answered with terror and shock in my voice.
“Pete! Who in the hell were you on the phone with?”
“I wasn’t on the phone with anyone?”
“Just shut up and listen to me. We got the money, now…”
“You didn’t give me the one ringer?” I interrupted. The sweat and cold seemed a transport to darkness.
“No we didn’t give, wait--tell me you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t!”
“You didn’t give me the one ringer!”
There was another shot. The receiver swung, hanging from the cord. The clock looming--Luna high above the madness. Her second hand still twisted, but the minute hand rested on two after.
by: j.l. carey jr.
The clock loomed high on the wall above the phone. It hung there like the moon over a grave on an old B movie poster. Ominous. I could feel the second hand crawling with the sweat down my back. It was hot as hell in that room, but I couldn’t seem to stop shaking.
“So do you have any kids?” he said, breaking Luna’s silent ticking.
“Um. Yes. Yes I do,” I told him. “I have a daughter.”
“Yeah,” he said, rolling his head from the ceiling to the floor.
“Yes,” I replied. “And do you?”
“I have three.” He grinned. “Three boys.”
I smiled at him awkwardly. “They must be a handful.”
“Yeah, I suppose.”
“I can imagine three is. My daughter is hard enough to handle and she is only one kid.”
“How old is your daughter?” he asked, with some stern intrigue in his voice.
“She is seven. But, she thinks that she is fifteen,” I added.
“Isn’t that the truth? The man laughed.
I smiled and asked him how old his sons were. The question seemed to stunt his laugh.
“Ahh. Well, my boys are all grown now.”
“Really! Are any of them married?”
“To be honest with you, I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken in years. I don’t think they give two shits about me. I can’t blame’m though. After their mother and I divorced I wasn’t much of a father to them. I spent most of my time working.”
I froze for a moment as a beeping went off. Fear and adrenaline charged through me before I realized that it was only the timer on my watch. My brain seemed to cramp as I asked myself why? Why had I allowed myself to get involved in this chaos? Why?
With a breath of relief I shut the watch off and then double-checked it again to make sure. Still bug-eyed, I glanced up at that clock. That damned clock, Luna in orbit. Then turning back to him I said, “I’m sorry. My watch startled me. I always forget to shut it off so every day it beeps at 4:50. You would think that I would be use to it by now.” I gave him a half-laugh that was quite fraudulent and he returned one to me that was equally unbelievable.
“So, what’s your daughter’s name?” he asked as if my little outburst had never taken place.
“Her name is Gabriella or, or Gabby for short.”
“Does her name fit her?”
“What’s that?”
“Does her name fit her? You know the name Gabby. Does it fit her personality?”
“Oh. Yes. Yes, she will talk to you till no end.” I chuckled at my own inability to get what he was saying. “She will ask you questions to the point of insanity also.”
“Yeah. I remember when my boys were like that.”
“Yes. I remember just the other day my daughter asked me how cars moved so fast. I told her that it was the engine of course. She asks then how does the engine work. I say it uses gas. Well how does it use gas and on and on. Finally I had to tell her enough was enough.”
“You do. Sometimes you have to stopp’em or they’ll just keep going.”
“Yes. Yes.” I caught myself staring at the clock again and then the phone. I didn’t want to look at the phone, but I did. Why did I look at it? Why was I even here at all? I should be at home right now. I never should have got involved. I tried to cloud my mind with reassurance. Thoughts of how life would be once this was all over and I had the money to provide a good life for my family. I rubbed my hands on my eyes to try and break the spell. “I’m sorry what was that?”
“I said kids can be pretty unpredictable with what they come up with.”
“Oh. Yes, they can be. Life itself can be pretty unpredictable though.”
“Yeah, sometimes. Although, I think life in general can be pretty predictable. You’re born, you live and then you die. The rest is just filler and even most of that is predictable. I think that’s why most peoples lives become boring and monotonous.”
“Perhaps? Perhaps they only believe their lives are boring and choose to ignore the possibilities that surround them though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes I think it’s the easy way for people to live their simple and monotonous lives. They think that everything is the same old same old even when it is not.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s like when a family member is killed in a car crash. Everyone feels the loss of that person at first, but with in no time at all they’ve moved on. They go right back to Monday night football and P.T.A. meetings and it’s as if that person never existed.”
“Yeah, that’s a good point. Don’t you think your daughter would miss you if you were gone though?”
“Yes. Yes of course. She would be sad for a while, but she would move on in time and go right back to playing Barbie’s with her friends.”
“Don’t you think that it would have a tremendous impact on her life?”
“Yes.”
“It would probably change her personality and her entire outlook on life.”
“Yes. Probably”
“I bet it’s even safe to say…”
Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnngggggggg. It came. What I had feared and prayed against since the night my fate was decided, when I was the one who had been picked to stay back. It had come. The phone had wrung.
I looked at the clock, Luna and her second hand was pulling fast away from the five, as if she were gesturing a wave goodbye. That cold sweaty feeling rushed over me again, as I stood up. I slid my hand into the pocket of my jacket and felt the cold metal of my revolver. I don’t remember firing it. There was only the smell of the gun and Jon’s head drooping over his now lifeless body. His hulking frame strapped in the chair with the black mask covering his eyes, still blocking out his true whereabouts or perhaps now he saw everything perfectly clear? That we had stolen him away from his plush home in the middle of the night and that no one cared enough to get him back. “I am sorry my friend. I guess your sons didn’t give two shits about you.”
Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggggg. Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggggg. Brrrrrr.
“Hello?” I answered with terror and shock in my voice.
“Pete! Who in the hell were you on the phone with?”
“I wasn’t on the phone with anyone?”
“Just shut up and listen to me. We got the money, now…”
“You didn’t give me the one ringer?” I interrupted. The sweat and cold seemed a transport to darkness.
“No we didn’t give, wait--tell me you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t!”
“You didn’t give me the one ringer!”
There was another shot. The receiver swung, hanging from the cord. The clock looming--Luna high above the madness. Her second hand still twisted, but the minute hand rested on two after.
