LONG DISTANCE
By Jim Kittelberger
I’ve had this urge; I guess
you’d call it that, to dial the old telephone number of my deceased parents. I’ve
had the thought cross my mind several times, until it started to become a fixation.
Now I know that the number has either been sent to wherever they send old, no longer used telephone numbers, perhaps
the dead number office, sorry bad joke, or it has been reassigned. At first I
gave it not a seconds thought, and filed it away in ‘thoughts that fly through you mind that are stupid, and forget
about it’.
Several years passed, and when the urge
struck me again, I mentioned it to my wife. That was probably not a smart thing
to do. She gave me her ‘how stupid are you really’ look. But this has happened now maybe six times. I think a half
dozen times is enough for me to just say, “what the hell”, and pick up the phone and get it over with. I know I’ll get a recording saying this is not a working number, or I’ll be intruding momentarily
into the life of whoever got the reassigned number. But I’ve decided I’m
going to do it. This will probably entitle me to one costly session with a shrink,
if I tell anyone, which I won’t ever again. But as I’m getting older, I’ve reached that stage of life where
I don’t put things off too long, the years are piling up and it could become a mute point. Also, I have stewed over this thing long enough and it will soon be filed under ‘obsession’,
and I don’t need any of those. Now is the time, go for it I told myself. I picked up the phone and started to dial. I
got to the last two digits and it occurred to me, ‘how crazy is this?’ and slammed down the receiver.
I awoke very early the next morning after
a very restless sleep. I usually sleep much later, so when I do wake this early
it usually does not bode well for me; it usually means I’m getting ill, but as I lay there staring at the ceiling a
nagging thought started hammering away at me once again. Call you mother; Call
your mother. Holy Mary, mother of God, will this never cease. “It’ll stop right now”, I said to myself, as I picked up the receiver and dialed in the
old number. It rang five times, and I said to myself, see you dumb cluck, nothing
there but an unassigned number or I’m going to wake up some mighty angry phone customer wanting to know why some ignorant
person is calling at this hour of the morning. Well nobody was answering, that
ought to be enough to satisfy my creepy urge. Just as I was preparing to replace
the receiver, I heard the phone being picked up and a voice said “Hello”.
It was my mother’s voice as only she could say that word. I slammed
the receiver down. Cold sweat broke out all over my body and I became panic stricken. This was off the scale in human weirdness and I was in a semi state of shock. I quickly got out of the bed and walked to the bathroom, turning on lights as I went. Darkness did not seem like a friend right now and I didn’t want any dark corners. I turned on the cold water and let it run until it was as cold as I could stand it,
filling my cupped hands, and splashing my face over and over until I was absolutely awake, and my hands were too frigid to
continue. As I toweled my face dry, I calmed down and sanity started to return. I must have been having a nightmare or I read somewhere that if you say something
over and over you will eventually convince yourself it’s true. That’s
probably it. I sat on the edge of the tub until all remnants of the dream disappeared,
then dragged myself back to the bed and fell immediately into an exhausted sleep.
The following morning I awoke before the
sun. The walls danced with shadows from the full moon that filled the winter
sky. Since I was not inclined to immediately get out of bed, I studied the changing shapes as my imagination ran wild with
the possibilities. The mind of a human has amazing faculties. We are able to
metaphysically remove ourselves from place to place and situation to situation. Perhaps
as a child our imaginations are the strongest as we contemplate a future we really know nothing about. Later, in our journey through life, when we think we know everything there is to know and nothing can surprise
us again, the imaginings take on a more prejudiced point of view. If I had a
million dollars, I would do such and such; or if I lived in Santa Barbara, California instead of here in Ames, Iowa, I would
have everything I’d need to live a happy life. Imaginings are fun, and
I was enjoying my few moments this early morning imagining what each shadow meant. Then
it struck me; I was more at peace this morning than I have been in a long time. What
happened to my fear of the night before?
In fact, I knew why the fear was gone,
I knew with certainty that I had been given a gift, the substance of which I might never be able to discuss fully with anyone;
but a gift of heavenly proportions that I would humbly accept. Without a moment’s
hesitation, I went to the telephone and with shaking fingers dialed in the number. As
before the voice answered with the readily identifiable Hello. In what is probably
the most gratuitous statement I have ever made, I said, “Hi mom, this is your son.” Then there was a moment of silence and stillness, and the world for me seemed to switch into suspended
animation. Then came the only two words she would speak, but to me it was the
answer to all my prayers. “I’m happy.”
Was what happened to me imagination
or reality? Would anyone believe me? Is
it necessary for anyone to believe me? Would I ask anyone to believe it? I only know that when you are confronted with those ugly dark moments of your
life when you are confronted with your mortality or someone who is so close to you that you feel their pain and anguish, and
there is no answer on this earth; then it is time to go beyond what you can see, beyond reality. It’s time to have faith that the answer is very near, and is yours for the asking. I got my answer.
© Jim Kittelberger. All Rights Reserved. 2003