I'm Listening

A Story by Michael

As I check my phone, I find myself scrolling through my recent calls and as I do this I find that I've called the same number twice but I have no recollection of ever calling that number, nor do I even recognize the number. Once I get home, I lie in bed and contemplate whether or not I should call this number once more just to get to the bottom of things. My thumb hovers call button and I hesitate for a moment before finally hitting call and placing the phone to my ear.

Silence then the other line starts to ring.

I wait.

After what seems like forever a man finally answers the phone but he seems rather confused as to why I'm calling. Maybe I called too much? I only called twice, though.

"Who is this?" Is my first question.

"'Who is this'?" He repeats, "I should be asking you that."

"What do you mean?"

"This isn't the first time you've called, you know. Mostly you call me late at night ... And you're drunk."

This makes me sit up in bed and I adjust my arm so it won't get tired while I hold the phone.

I have a feeling this is going to be a long phone call.

He's still there. I can hear him breathing from time to time and I know it's been a while since anyone has said anything and it was my turn to respond.

"I'm sorry if I bothered you. I didn't mean to and to be honest I don't even know how I got your number ... God, you must think I'm insane!"

He laughs at that. "No. You're fine. I've actually kept the voicemails. You vent to me about ... just what's going on in your life. I actually find it funny how you just, out of nowhere, call me one night and then another night."

"I truly am sorry. I have drank a lot in the past couple of days but you have to understand that there's been a lot going on in my life. My job isn't using me and I have like no money ... It's almost Christmas and I'm alone. I can't stand watching how happy my friends are during the holidays. It hurts so much. I'm sorry ... You're so quiet, I must be annoying you."

Silence but I can detect his smile on the other end.

"No," He says, "I'm listening."

"What ... What exactly have I told you about?"

"Well, let's see ... Like you said, with the holidays around the corner and you're all alone which I am terribly sorry about that. No one should be alone on Christmas," he pauses, "you also spoke about some guy that you asked out and how he was actually straight. I'm sorry for laughing but that was really funny to hear but it sucks though, I'm sorry."

"I can't believe I told almost everything about myself to a complete stranger! How old are you anyway?"

"I'm twenty-two."

"Twenty-One."

I shift my body to make myself more comfortable in my bed and let out a soft sigh.

Again, silence.

"Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, stranger." I said playfully and he responds with a soft chuckle.

"Alright, alright ... What do you want to know?"

"Anything."

"Okay ... I'm a bartender and I too am broke. My brother is in the army and my mother is ill. She might not make it to Christmas."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What about your father?"

"Left my mother years ago. I understand when you say about seeing your friends all happy during the holidays. I've never really experienced that until now. I mean, I'm drowning in hospital bills here and I can't get in touch with my brother. This year isn't a good one for me as well ... And I would totally sit down with a bottle of something and just chug it but I don't drink. I'm against it. Not sure why but how funny is that, a bartender that doesn't drink, huh?"

Silence.

"Can I be honest with you? Whatever your name is ... I sometimes wish my mother would just pass. I know that sounds awful but earlier in the week she whispered to me. I was reading a book to here and she stopped me and gestured me over and had enough strength to get close to my ear and she whispered to me that she's been praying for death. When she does pass on, I'm taking my inheritance and I'm paying off all these goddamn hospital bills."

There's a moment when he stops himself and I could hear in his voice how weak he is. He's holding back tears, I can tell. There's a single sniffle from the other end and I let him take his time. I don't rush him.

"Look at me ... Talking and talking. You must find me so annoying and probably regret ever calling me, huh?"

"No." I say, "I'm listening."