A Phone Call For Anton

Short story. Humorous, warm.

A Phone Call For Anton

At the end of each work day, Anton locked the door of his shop, went into his apartment building, and walked up three flights to his apartment.  After he entered his apartment, he went straight to his parrot's cage to talk to his parrot.  "Whew, my friend, the walk up the three flights gets longer every day.  Don't get old my friend.  Well, let's see what delicious food I can give you," he said and went into his small kitchen, opened a cabinet over the sink, took a box of parrot food from the cabinet, and poured some in a small feeding dish in the parrot's cage.  "Now, what shall I eat," he said as he went into the kitchen and looked in his cabinets.  "I guess I'm not very hungry.  Maybe, I'll eat later.  I think I'll relax and watch television for a while," he mumbled and went into his living room, sat on his worn couch, and used his remote to turn on his television.  "Look at that.  Violence and more violence.  Why do people want to see violence?  Well, I don't," he grumbled and changed the channel.  "Ah, a mystery story.  I like mystery stories." After several minutes, there was a knock on the door.  "Who could that be?" he said and went to the door and opened it.  "Father Amato.  What a surprise.  Come in.  Come sit down." Father Amato entered,  Anton closed the door, and both men went to the couch.  "Well Father Amato, what brings you to my home?" 

"You, Anton.  I was wondering how you were.  You're not ill, are you?"

"No, Father Amato, I'm not ill.  Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was curious to know why you've stopped coming to church?  I remember when you came every Sunday, but I haven't seen you for the last four Sundays.  That's why I was wondering if you were ill." 

"No.  I'm fine.  That is, I am not ill."

"Then may I ask why you don't come to church any more?"

"I'll tell you.  When my father and I left the old country to come to America, he told me that we would become wealthy.  He told me that everyone in America was wealthy.  Father, do I look wealthy?  No.  Here I am, a poor, old man."

"But no one in my parish is wealthy.  I don't understand."

"Father, every Sunday, I went to church and I prayed for a little wealth, just enough so that I could stop working, but God has not answered my prayers, so why should I go to church?"

"Anton, what is important is how we live our lives, not how much wealth we have.  Church helps us to understand the meaning of love and the value of giving to others who are less fortunate."

"What is wrong with wanting something for myself?  I have not asked for much.  Just enough so that I can stop working and go where it is warm so my arthritis won't hurt so much.  I prayed, but I wasted my time.  I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Father, but God doesn't listen to the people who go to your church."

"I'm sorry, Anton.  I am sorry that you are so unhappy.  If you change your mind, you will always be welcome in my church.  Always.  Well, I must be going."

"Thank you, Father.  You are very kind," he said, saw Father Amato out, and returned to the couch.

"Now, let's see what's on television," he said picking up the remote.  "Ah.  Magicians.  I like Magicians." He stared at the TV for a few moments.  "How do they do that?" As he leaned forward to see the show, the phone rang.  He sat back and answered it.  "Hello?"

"Hello, Anton, how are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you, and how are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Anton."

"That's good.  Uh, excuse me, but who is this?"

"Anton, this is God."

"God?"

"Yes, Anton, this is God."

"God?  God is calling me?  Shame on you, whoever you are.  It's not nice to make phone calls saying you're God.  Don't ever do that again.  Good-bye," he said angrily and hung up.

"Imagine, someone calling and saying he's God."  Again, the phone rang.  "Hmm.  Could this be the same prankster?  Should I let it ring?  Should I answer it?  I'd better answer it.  Hello?"

"Anton, why did you hang up on me?"

"Look, whoever you are, God wouldn't like you to call people and say you are God.  You should be ashamed," he said and hung up.  The phone rang again, and he answered it.  "Now, look, you..."

"You hung up on me, again, Anton."

"Of course I hung up.  What did you expect me to do?  You call me and tell me you're God.  How could you?  God wouldn't like that."

"But, Anton, this is God."

"Look.  God doesn't make phone calls.  And even if he did, why would he call me?"

"Anton, I know you think this is a prank, but it isn't.  I am God.  I can give you proof."

"Okay, give me proof."

"Okay, Anton.  Father Amato visited you a while ago."

"Hmm.  Father Amato, huh?  Father Amato wouldn't play a joke like this on me.  Okay.  Why did Father Amato visit me?"

"He wanted to know why you haven't been to church."

"Oh, my God.  Only God would know this.  Oh, my God, it is God."

"That's right, Anton, it's God."

"Uh, um, uh...say, uh, God, uh, I, uh, I...I don't want to hurt your feelings, but, uh, do you know you sound like a woman?"

"Do you know why I sound like a woman, Anton?"

"No, I don't."

"It's because I am a woman."

"A woman?  God's a woman?  Oh, my God, I didn't know you were a woman."

"Does it bother you that God is a woman, Anton?"

"No.  No.  If you want to be a woman, that's fine with me."

"Good,  Anton, I'm happy you approve."

"Uh, God, uh, can you hold on for a minute?"

"Sure, Anton."

"Thank you," he said and ran to his neighbor and knocked on her door.  "Mrs. O'Ryan!  Mrs. O'Ryan!  Come quick.  Hurry."

Mrs. O'Ryan opened her door.  "What's all the noise about, Mr. Moleno?  What do you want?"

"Mrs. O'Ryan, please come with me," he whispered pulling her to his apartment.

"What are you doing to me?  Stop pulling me.  Let go.  You'll be sorry.  I'll call the police.  Stop pulling me," she whined.

In his apartment, he sat her down on the couch.  " Mrs. O'Ryan, please.  Here.  Take the phone.  Talk."

"And what am I supposed to say?"

"Just say 'Hello'.

She took the phone.  "Oh, alright.  Hello?" She paused.  "Hello?  Hello?  Is anybody there?  Here, Anton, take your phone," she growled, pushing herself off the couch.  "Anton, you're daft.  There's no one there," she said angrily and rushed out of his apartment.

"Hello?  God.  Are you there?"

"Yes, Anton, I'm here."

"Why didn't you talk to Mrs. O'Ryan?"

"I didn't call to speak to Mrs. O'Ryan.  I called to speak to you, Anton.  You need to have faith.  You didn't need Mrs. O'Ryan to prove I called you."

"Forgive me, God.  It's just so hard to believe that God would call me.  Why me?"

"I called you, Anton, because you have been calling me for a long time, and I haven't had a chance to get back to you, but I have some free time, so let's get to it.  Just let me check my notes.  Ah, here we are.  You have been praying for wealth."

"Excuse me for interrupting, God."

"Do I hear a man's voice, God?" Anton asked.

"Yes, Anton.  It's my secretary.  Hold on, Anton.  I'll be right back."

"God has a secretary?"

"God, there's a call from Brooklyn in phone booth 55."

"Okay, Ralph, I'll be right there.  I'll be right back, Anton.  Talk to Ralph while I'm gone.  Say hello to Anton, Ralph."

"Hello, Anton, how are you?"

"Uh, I'm...I'm fine...I think.  Say, are you really God's secretary?"

"Yes.  I've been her secretary for about 3,000  years.  The secretary I replaced got a job in another department.  She was God's secretary for...oh, thousands of years.  I don't know who was here before her."

"Really.  Say, could you hold on for a moment?"

"Sure, Anton."

Anton rushed to Mrs. O'Ryan's apartment, yelled for Mrs. O'Ryan, and pounded on the door. 

Mrs. O'Ryan opened the door.  "What now, Moleno?"

"Mrs. O'Ryan, Mrs. O'Ryan, come quick."

"Not again.  Moleno, you're a nut case.  I'm not going anywhere."

Anton pulls her, but she resisted.  "Hey, stop pulling me.  Help.  Rape!  Rape!"

"Please, Mrs. O'Ryan.  You have to talk to someone."

"Not again.  We did this already, you nut.  Leave me alone.  Stop pulling me.  Leave me alone.  Help.  Rape.  Rape," she yelled.

Anton pulled her into his apartment, sat her down, and put the phone to her ear.

"Please, Mrs. O'Ryan.  Say hello.  It's God's secretary.  His name is Ralph."

"Oh, my God, you've finally lost it.  God's secretary?"

"Please talk."

"Okay, okay.  Hello?  Hello?  Ralph?  Are you there?  Okay, nut, take your phone," she said as she stood.  "Anton, you're hearing things.  I'm getting out of here before I catch whatever you've got that's making you crazy," she growled and rushed out.

"Hello?  Ralph?  Are you there?"

"Yes, Anton, I'm here."

"Why didn't you talk to Mrs. O'Ryan?"

"God called you, so only you can hear God and me.  It's a rule."

"But Mrs. O'Ryan thinks I'm a nut."

"I'm sorry.  It's a rule."

"Okay, Ralph, I'll take over now," God said as she returned.

"Was it an important call, God?"

"No.  Somebody in Brooklyn prayed that some baseball team would beat some other baseball team.  I told him that I don't do baseball teams.  You may go, Ralph."

"I'll be at my desk if you need me."

"Now, Anton, where were we?  Oh, yes.  You want...

Excuse me for interrupting, God, but UPS delivered a big box," Ralph said.  Should I open it?"

"Certainly.  It's for you, Ralph.  It's a new computer."

"Gee, thanks, God.  I needed a new computer."

"UPS?  UPS?  I didn't know UPS delivered up...you know, where you are."

"Oh, yes.  They deliver everywhere.  Now, back to your prayers, Anton.  You want..."

Ralph interrupted again.  "God, there's an urgent call from the parents of a little girl who was injured in an automobile accident.  Phone booth 3."

"Okay, Ralph.  Excuse me, Anton, I'll be right back."

"A secretary, UPS, line 3. This must be a dream."

"Sorry, Anton, but it was an emergency.  Oh, excuse me for a moment, Anton, my cell phone is ringing.  It's in the other chamber.  Hold on, Anton."

"She has a cell phone?  She has a secretary.  UPS delivers up...there?  Is this a dream?"

"I'm back, Anton, sorry for the interruptions.  Now, back to you."

"I'm sorry I took so long getting to your prayers.  My job gets pretty hectic, Anton.  There were so many people ahead of you.  You wouldn't believe how many people are suffering.  So many children suffering from terrible diseases.  So many people all over the world, are starving, and there are so many very old, lonely people, and they all need me.  Anyway, lets get to you.  Now, you would like to be wealthy."

"Oh, yes, God, it would be wonderful if I could have..."

"Anton, you'll have to excuse me.  A fax is coming in.  I'll be right back."

"A cell phone?  A fax machine?  I don't believe this."

"I'm back, Anton.  Some prayers just came in.  Several people are being evicted from their building, and they don't have any place to go.  I'll get to them after I answer your prayers."

"God, if you could arrange it, I would like to have..."

"There goes my cell phone again, Anton.  Hold on.  I'll be right back."

Who would believe this is happening?  I don't believe this is happening."

"I'm back, Anton.  That was a call from a family in Boston whose little girl went into surgery for a heart transplant, and they want my help.  People all over the world are always calling me.  Ah, but let's not forget you.  Tell me, do you want cash, jewels..."

"God.  I was thinking.  You're pretty busy with some very serious problems.  A lot of people need you.  Actually, I'm doing okay.  I have my little apartment.  I have my bird.  I have plenty of food.  I have my health.  You go ahead and take care of those people who have problems."

"Are you sure, Anton?  You've been waiting a long time."

"It's okay, God, I'm fine."

"Anton, you're a kind and generous man.  I wish there were more people like you.  Thank you, Anton.  I have to go now, but I'll be here when you need me.  Just call.  Good-bye, Anton."

Anton sat back and smiled.

The End

 

 

 

Reviews

[angel]

Wonderful, I LOVED this. Thanks for posting it.
Angel Godiva

[angel]

I read all three of your pieces, and liked this one best. Holy s**t, the lady commenting before e thought that it was 'a little long'? She'd better stay away from MY pieces. They are very lengthy, for the most part. I realized that I'd never read anything you'd written before. I guess because it was YOU who was the teacher.
Very nice, especially THE BAG LADY and this last. Got any more? Perhaps some poetry?

[Marie]

A little long for my taste, but quite good.