The Call
6:30 a.m. – The only alarm clock I can afford at this point blares through the open window that keeps me cool during this draining summer, bounces off my army-line of trophies placed neatly on my bureau, and bounces onto my skin, impelling me out of my sleep. I turn away from the heat, placing my pillow tightly enough around my face, making sure I don’t accidentally off myself. I can’t. At least not today.
I sit there for a moments time, pillow on my face, paying attention to the waves of my pillowcase, reminding me I’m still alive. I think about the endless possibilities that this day holds. My whole life rides on today. No, on this phone call. I sit and think about the moment I’ll hit that red key and set the phone down beside me. In that moment, I’ll know if I’ll be flying among the angels or stuck in this hell, Satan himself in the next room.
Shaking myself out of that nightmarish reverie, I put the pillow beside me and sit up on the edge of my bed. I glance around the place that provided me with more heat than I could bare for much too long, taking everything in. The bed with no springs and hinges but always disguised as put together. The desk in the corner that dad “borrowed” from the “garage sale” down the block so many years ago. Placed on top of it are all my textbooks and letters to my future, scattered about. I look to my clock, blinking red on the night stand next to my bed, 6:35 a.m. Shit, twenty-five minutes to compose myself. Shuffling to the full-length mirror, drowning in the pile of dirty laundry in the dark corner of my room, I rip off my pants and add them to the collection. Now, standing in front of the mirror, I see my life in all its obscurity. The room is empty. I stand there, staring at a young stranger that looks familiar but seems lost. He’s standing in a shadowed corner all by himself. I want to help him but I don’t know how. Not yet. Trapped within these four walls, bright as the ocean, he seems to be suffocating. He reaches out for me to help but there’s nothing I can do. He’s helpless. Suddenly, I realize something behind him that seems to have appeared out of nowhere. In the far corner of the room there’s an oak being consumed by uncontrollable fury. The boy in front of him is panicking, almost hysterically now. Slamming on the glass, shouting undetectable words, a single tear falling from his chin and onto the floor. To the left of him, there’s a window. My window. Sun blazing onto his soft skin.
Bzz…bzzz…bzzz!
Jolting out of that horror, I look over to see where the sudden noise is coming from. On my nightstand, my phone shivers its way to the far edge and on to the floor. I look to the clock that recently sat beside it – 6:40 a.m. I walk over, heart thumping, whispering to whatever deity I believed in that day. ‘‘Please. Not now. I can’t do it now. Please, I just need a little time.” Knees buckling, I bend over, every part of my body seeming to go numb. I pick it up and flip it over to see who has my heart running faster than my Dad ten years ago. I take one deep breath and flip. Suddenly, I see Miles’ coils, brown eyes, and smile as wide as his future, covering my glowing screen.
I hit the green button. “Yeah, Miles?” I say, trying to convince my heart to calm down. He instantly starts speaking at a pace that I can barely keep up with. “Ay, so what’d they say?” “What’d who say?” I’m genuinely confused at this point, considering my mind is floating everywhere except wherever Miles’ wandering. “Stop being dumb. I didn’t wake up at the butt-crack of dawn on a Sunday for you to start playing stupid. What. Did. They. Say?” His persistence captures my attention and I stop to focus on what it is he’s trying to get out of me. After a moment it comes to me. “Oh.” Is all I can spit out. “Yeah, “oh””, Miles interrupts. “Um, yeah, they didn’t call yet.” I say, rubbing my temples as I pace the room. “What? Well, when do you find out?” I exhale, wanting, wishing to have any discussion but this one. “It’s at seven. I still have – “I look to the flashing red lights that count down my destiny, 6:42 am. Another exhale makes its way out my nostrils. “I have eighteen minutes.” “Damn” is the only word Miles can utter, which is surprising for someone who can never stop talking. “Yeah…damn” is all I can mutter back. We both sit there for a moment, thinking about what’s to come next. After a few beats, Miles starts again. “You got this, man. Everything will be okay. It has to be. I need you, man. I mean you can’t just leave me now and-“ “Yeah, I know Miles.” I snap, then take another deep breath and exhale. “I know.” After another brief pause, he continues. “I’m sorry. I know you’re nervous about this; so am I. But like I said, you got this.” “Yeah.” I say, not necessarily believing my own words.
We talk for a few moments longer, with me continuously trying and failing to change the subject. When I can’t take much more, I let Miles go, promising to call him with the news as soon as I have it. I hit the red button, toss the phone to my bed and focus my attention on the flashing red lights, 6:55 a.m.
“Shit.” I sit on my bed, trying to stay calm. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” I come to the realization that sitting isn’t doing me any good. I stand and continue to pace the areas I’ve come to know too well in the past twenty-minutes. “It’s okay. You got this. You’ll be fine, just breathe.” I tell myself, once again not sure if I believe it. As I go back and forth, trying to clear my head, it feels as if a python is slowly wrapping itself around my lungs with each passing thought. “Stop it. Please…stop it. Just – breathe – like – they – told – you.” I try to breathe; inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. The snake just gets angrier with each struggle. I stumble my way to the bathroom, hoping to cool the fire with some cold water. I place my hands on the countertop to support my weak knees but the moisture of my palms fight against it. I look to the person staring back at me. This time he’s older. Tired. Mouth agape, struggling to survive. Beads of sweat pouring from every inch of his face. He seems to be suffocating but there’s nothing I can do. I turn away.
Suddenly, I hear the howling of the wolves that nest right outside of my door, coming through the vents. I think about the fact that it’s pretty early for them to be out, considering they were on the prowl all night but I just ignore it. I have other things to worry about. The howling gets louder with each passing growl. This isn’t unusual. Most of the time, it happens at least twice a day. This time is different though. The howling seems to get louder with each fragile breath I take, the female wolf seeming to be more screeching than howling. As the predators are about to attack, I sense something else passing through the vents. My nose starts to tickle as the faint smell of burning tree and spilled alcohol linger on my hairs. I can’t take it anymore. I stumble over and close the vents with the last bit of strength I seem to have left. ‘Forget the female wolf.’ I think to myself. ‘She never protected me from predators either’.
I ignore the, now faint, howling in the next room as I stumble through the bathroom and back into the dungeon where I’ve spent so many restless nights. The snake is winning the battle now and I surrender to the defeat. Crashing into the walls, I’m taken back to the night at the fair when I was seven years old. The wolves sent me to the merry-go-round while they were in the search of finding something that would help them forget this night. There was excitement plastered on every young face except mine. I was scared. Everything was a blur and all I saw was stream of colors I couldn’t make out. I was getting nauseous, considering this was my third go. I reach for my mom to take me down but she’s not there. Nobody is there. I’m all alone.
I struggle to catch my breath as my feet fail to do the one thing they were created to do. The merry-go-round is spinning faster and faster until I collapse onto the ground, sweaty palms gliding across the walls to slow the impact.
‘This is it’, I think. ‘Out of all the fucking things I’ve survived; this is how I go. This is how it ends. Ha!’ All I can do now is wait. Wait for the snake to either finish his job or realize I’m not worth it and slither away. Wait for the ride to end so I can see straight and go find my parents. Wait for the storm to calm so I can ride the waves. “Just…breathe” I whisper to myself, hoping that someone would relay the message to my brain. “…Please.”
Suddenly, I hear a vibrating sound as it buzzes against my sheets and everything inside of me seems to stop. I see it there, flashing to alert me that my life is on the line but I can’t seem to move. I look to the blinking red lights one last time, 7:04. I take one more long, quivering breath, exhale, and stand up, the wall still being a crutch for my paralysis. The snake that held on so tight seems to have been distracted by the vibration too, considering I’m now fully aware of the rise and fall in my chest and my heart seems to be dozing off during such an important moment. ‘I swear, if this is you again, Miles.’ I think to myself.
I slowly walk to my bed with this placebo effect of strength that the glowing screen has placed upon me; inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Lying in-between my unmade covers, there it is, shining in all it’s glory. I pick it up and, on the screen, blinks a number with a 609-area code. I’m stuck in a catatonic state for what seems like an eternity before I snap myself out of it. ‘Come on, breathe. Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop. You’ll be fine. It’s okay,’ I think to myself for the final time before hitting that little green button.
Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
“Hello?”
“Hello! Am I speaking to Logan?”
“Mhm. Er. Uh, yes. Yes, this is Logan.”
The conversation went on for about fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes was all it took to determine my future. Fifteen minutes that could place me where the angels call. Fifteen minutes.
After we said our goodbyes and I hit that red button, I stood there in the same daze that almost ruined everything fifteen minutes prior. When I finally catch back up with reality, I walk over to my bed where I considered laying in isolation for the remainder of the day but decided against it. I suddenly remembered that I needed to check in with an old friend who I had promised I’d come back for. Instead, I relax my hand over my bed and let my phone slip out of my palm, lubricated by whatever moisture still remains and walk over to my mirror.
In it lies the same little boy, only this time things are different. What draws me to him the most is the fact that he wasn’t screaming and crying anymore. In fact, he seemed to be at peace within himself. He sits in the middle of an empty room, surrounded by four walls the color of Mama’s homemade summer drink that she used to make. Lying in the corner where the oak once burned stands a Birch; tall and green. I look to the boy, hair groomed, dressed in a grape suit with worn-down sneakers. He’s sitting on the floor right in front of me now, with the sunlight hitting his eyes perfectly. In front of him, he races his toy ambulance and firetruck back and forth across the carpet. I don’t want to break him from this bliss but I have to.
Quietly, I tap on the mirror but he doesn’t respond. He’s in his own world now. Deciding to try once more, I tap again, this time a little louder. I break him out of his fantasy and he instantly looks up at me; green eyes sparkling from the suns reflection. We both sit there for a moment, staring at each other as if taking in the others strength.
Inhale, exhale.
Finally having the courage to speak, I start first:
“Hey” I pause, entranced by the glow in his eyes.
I’m afraid that I’ll break him again. He’s so happy and yet still so fragile. He stares, waiting for me to continue.
“Hey, you’re going to be fine. Okay?”
He stares at me a moment longer then slowly releases a smile that makes everything feel okay.
“I know!” is all he says as he goes back to his toys.
I stand there looking at him, unable to turn away as my eyes begin to swell. Suddenly, a smile starts to form from one cheek to the other as I stand nodding my head. “You’ll be fine” I say. “You’ll be fine.”
Finally, I believed every word I said.