by Jeremy Finn
Because, it is critically important.
Ok then, spit it out. Tell me what is so important. Tell me why you call and refuse to reveal your identity.
I need you to admit that I exist.
…What kind of crazy request is that?!
I need you to admit that I exist.
Ok, I have had enough. This prank call is over. If you are recording it to post on the web or something, go ahead and have your fun. I won’t play the fool to your joke any longer. Goodbye…
But don’t you want to know why it is so important?
Why what?....you mean why you want me to say you exist?
Why I NEED you to admit that I exist.
Alright, how about I report your phone number to the police?
Go ahead. But first, tell me that I exist.
Maybe rather than the police I need to get a psychiatrist for you. Or maybe you are one trying some test on me or working through an assignment, huh?
Whatever you want. I just need you to admit that I exist.
Goodness. I have better things to do. My wife is calling. I’m afraid I’m going to have to hang up.
Your wife is not at home. No one is at home but you.
How did you know that! I mean…are you outside my house? Are you on a cell phone? I’m definitely calling the police.
But all I am asking you is to tell me I exist. Just do that for me and I will leave. I will not call you again.
Really? How can I be sure? You sound like some kind of psycho who will just keep calling me again and again.
You have my word. Just admit it and I will be gone.
Hold on. If I admit you exist, you will be gone? That seems contradictory.
Perhaps, but you will understand if you just admit it.
You know, I am almost to the point where I want to just give in to your senseless demand. But the more you push me, the more I want to refuse your request. By the way, you never even told me who you are.
Ok, let’s make a deal. Admit that I exist, and I will tell you who I am.
A deal, huh?
A deal.
Well, I just see one problem with your deal. If we do things your way, I give in first, and then you do whatever you want.
I’m sorry. It has to be this way.
Why? Says who?
It just does. You will understand when you admit it.
Well, what if I admit it and then you go back on your word? What if you win your part and then hang up on me? I’ll never know who you are. How do you expect me to admit you exist if I do not even know who you are!
You can hear my voice, right?
Well, yes.
Isn’t that proof enough that I exist?
I get your point, but I don’t have any idea what you look like or who you are. I mean, I could admit the sound of your voice exists, but that is all my senses literally perceive. Is that enough?
No. Not enough. You MUST admit that I exist!
Or else what? What do I stand to lose if I don’t do it – if I hang up the phone right now? Wait, let me guess. I’ll understand after I admit it.
Correct. But I can tell you that it is of grave importance. Everything hangs in the balance.
Are you kidding me? What could possibly hinge on me simply admitting to you over the phone that you exist?
Everything.
All right. Now you are starting to really scare me. Where are you? Tell me where you are.
I can’t.
Why not? Is that a secret too? Will I understand after I admit you exist? I won’t!
No, it’s not a secret, but you would not understand.
Try me.
Well, I am not exactly in a particular place.
What? That doesn’t make any sense.
I told you, you would not understand.
So, let me get this straight. You want me to admit you exist although you refuse to tell me who you are and claim you are not in a particular place?
Yes.
Don’t you understand not being in a particular place means you don’t exist?
I told you you would not understand. Please admit that I exist. Time is running out.
Time is running out? Oh, so now you are going to add one more senseless tidbit to this grand circus. Time is running out and I suppose if it does something terribly tragic will happen to you.
Yes, time is running out – quickly. But no, nothing tragic will happen to me. The tragedy will be yours.
I knew it would come to this. I knew you would begin to threaten me at some point. This only proves you are some psychotic crazy person.
I am not threatening you. I am trying to help you. But now it is already too late.
Too late?! That’s it! If you ever call this number again I will track you down and drag you to the police! You are violating my privacy and making serious threats to my safety! You……hey, why is the phone line disconnected from the wall jack? How long has it been that way?
I’m sorry.
What?...Hey! How are you doing this? Did you rig this phone?
…….
Answer me!
…….
Answer me!!
Insight
This one came out of nowhere. I was just sitting one night thinking about writing and thought it would be fun to be in a writing class where the teacher gives you some obscure topic and tells you to come up with a story on the spot centered around that subject. My first thought was a story about a phone call. Well, once the challenge entered my mind, it was hard not to try to meet it. In a short time I came up with the seed of an idea that became this story. It is very short and a bit creepy, but I like the idea that it all takes place purely as conversation – it was a challenge to set the mood and paint a picture without any narration. Furthermore, I had to come up with a way to end the story in a manner that made the reader feel compelled to continue it on his own using his imagination. There is not a specific message or “right answer” to the identity of the voice. I had some ideas of my own, but thought it better just to leave it open to the reader’s imagination. Who/what do you think is the voice?
LOVE IS THICKER THAN BLOOD
Margie self-consciously wiped a growing tear from her eye. It was a bright, sunny morning at the beach, but it was not the sun that caused her eyes to grow damp. She and her husband had been trying to have a baby for seven years now without even a hint of success. They started out confident. After a year, it turned to hopeful. By three years, they were determined, but by five years they were becoming desperate. Now, her husband had given up and she was just about to join him. Even adoption seemed like a dead end. Although there were many babies out there, there were many laws and policies too that made it nearly impossible to adopt, even from foreign countries.
So, Margie had turned to religion this morning. She had some Jewish ancestry and grew up in a Christian family, so she took a stroll out to the beach near her home and brought a Bible with her. She remembered once hearing about a promise God made to Abraham about multiplying his ancestors to match the sands of the seashore. Despite paging through the book for some time, though, she had not been able to locate the passage yet. She closed the book in frustration and whispered an accusatory prayer.
"God, if you promised to multiply Abraham's descendants, why can't I be part of that blessing? I know we would be good parents. Can't you just give us a chance?"
Would you really accept that chance, regardless of how it came to you and what it entailed? she seemed to hear in her mind. It was an odd experience, not like hearing an actual voice or thinking a thought. Rather, it seemed as if the question just appeared in her mind like random images that sometimes conjure as you lay in bed waiting for sleep to come.
Before she could contemplate the experience, though, she noticed a mother and child playing in the sand near the water. The woman was fair skinned, but her toddler had darker skin and different features. They seemed to be having a blast building sand castles and just playing around. After enjoying watchin
g them for some time, she worked up the courage to approach them.
"Excuse me, my name is Margie," she introduced herself.
"Oh, hello, my name is Caroline," the woman returned with a smile.
"I hope you don't find this intrusive," Margie said softly so the child playing nearby could not hear, "but I was wondering if your daughter is adopted."
"Yes, she is," Caroline replied without any hesitation. "I guess it's pretty obvious, right?"
"Oh no, I mean, well, yes," Margie stammered. "Would you mind if I asked you a few questions? You see, my husband and I have been trying to have a baby, and then adopt for many years. At first we were somewhat picky about adoption, you know, only certain countries and only perfect babies. Eventually, though, we realized adoption wasn't a shopping mall. We couldn't just go in and pick out exactly what we wanted from a wide selection of options. We tried several times and the door shut on us again and again. Do you mind if I ask how you were able to work your adoption? Did you have to wait a long time?"
Caroline smiled and glanced lovingly at her daughter, who was busy chasing the waves up and down the shore. "Actually, we did not have to wait long at all."
"Really?" Margie perked up. "Well it must have been a while ago, right? I know all the countries are starting to enact all kinds of obstacles to adoption from outsiders because they feel it is a shame to their national pride. Disgusting, in my opinion."
"Actually," Caroline answered, "we adopted her less than a year ago."
"Wow, really?" Margie exclaimed. She was really interested now. "I don't mean this at all in a bad way, but what country is she from? I'm afraid I can't place her based on her looks alone."
Caroline giggled. "No, don't feel bad about asking. Most people have the same trouble. I..."
"Mommy, mommy!" the girl ran up with a shell in her little hands, oblivious to the conversation. "Look, look!"
"That's nice, honey. Let mommy finish talking, ok?"
"I don't mean to take too much of your time," Margie apologized, feeling guilty about interrogating the woman but at the same time desperately interested in her story.
"Not at all. Look, why don't I introduce you to the agency I worked with?" Caroline offered. "If you have time, I could bring you by this evening."
"Could you?" Margie tried to suppress her excitement. "I don't want to take up too much of your time, but I would really appreciate it."
"No problem," Caroline assured. "I will be free tonight and I remember how important this was to me not long ago. Could I meet you at the diner on the corner of Main and Freds Street?"
"Ok, I'll be there," Margie agreed. "My husband probably won't be able to make it since he has a meeting at the office tonight, but if things work out I can always bring him back later."
"Great, then. I'll see you tonight," Caroline said as she gathered up the beach toys and dusted the sand off her daughter's legs. The mother and daughter skipped up the beach to the parking lot, but Margie stayed by the breakers. She sat on the beach where the soft mounds of sand transitioned to a flat, moist plane running down to the water and gazed out over the endless sea. Pinching a bit of sand between her thumb and index finger, she held it up to her face and gazed at the hundreds of grains.
"Are you in there somewhere?" she asked the sand wistfully. "Will I begin the journey to find you tonight?"
That evening she arrived at the diner early. Her body was hungry, but she did not feel it. She was too excited, or was it nervous? She mentioned the story of the conversation on the beach to Dave over the phone and he had been skeptical. He agreed she should go, in the end, but was concerned she would be in for a big disappointment. Nevertheless, they had exhausted all other avenues, so she decided to keep the date.
Caroline entered the diner precisely on time and smiled when she saw Margie sitting alone at a booth.
"Are you hungry?" she asked. "Should we have a bite to eat before we go?"
"If you don't mind, I would rather just go right now," Margie answered. "I'm afraid I don't have much of an appetite. If you are hungry, I wouldn't mind..."
"Oh no," Caroline cut in. "I'm fine. I know you are probably pretty excited about this, so let's just go."
The two women left the diner and continued walking down the street a few blocks. They came to a tall building that appeared to be home to shops on the first few floors followed by offices and finally luxury apartments.
"This is quite a place," Margie commented.
"That was my first impression, too," Caroline smiled.
They came to a series of elevators along the far wall in the lobby and waited for one to arrive. Once inside, Caroline hit a button at the bottom. It did not have a number next to it.
"Why doesn't that button have a number?" Margie asked.
"Well, they keep to themselves, and to helping their customers," Caroline explained. "It's something like leaving off the thirteenth floor to placate superstitious people. There still is a thirteenth floor; they just don't call it that."
"Oh," Margie returned thoughtfully. She did not really understand the explanation.
"There are a few questions they are going to ask you that might make you uncomfortable," Caroline warned. "Please let me know if it gets to be too much for you or you want to leave."
"Caroline, do you know how many adoption agencies, doctors and experimental schemes I have been through?" Margie asked. "Trust me; I think I've heard it all."
"Well, ok," Caroline said without losing the concerned look on her face. "But just let me know, ok?"
The bell dinged and the doors slid open. Margie stood at the head of a long hallway with a vaulted ceiling. It was ordinary and decorated sparsely with pictures of children along the wall. The lighting was dim and directed, and made it seem like some kind of nocturnal museum. Margie followed Caroline down the hall, but grew uneasy when they came to a wall at the far end. There were no doors, no halls branching off and no secretary at a desk.
"Um, are you sure we have the right floor?" Margie asked.
"Positive," Caroline assured. "Now, brace yourself."
"What do you mean...?” Margie said turning toward her, but the white walls faded quickly and they were standing in the middle of a large, circular room ringed with tables and workstations along the walls flickering with electronic life. It looked like a mix between mission control at NASA and a mad scientist's laboratory. The center of the room was mostly bare except for a long thick tube that rose from her head level and up into the ceiling over forty feet above them.
"Caroline, what just happened?" She hissed and flattened her hands on her sides to keep them from shaking.
"Good evening!" a man's voice called and Margie saw him stand from beside a computer terminal nearby. She had completely missed him among all the flickering lights and shadows. "I am Dr. Gabria Fabious. Good to see you again, Caroline."
Caroline nodded with a smile and introduced Margie to include a short background on her struggles to obtain a child.
"Well, you are fortunate to have happened on just the right place," the doctor smiled. He was very tall and had the same sort of complexion as Caroline's daughter. "We are in desperate need of willing parents."
"Well, that's great," Margie mumbled. She was still having trouble with the disappearing hallway thing. "but I don't understand. Everywhere else we have tried it was always obstacles and excuses."
"I know," Dr. Fabious replied. "Here it is different, though."
"Well, how long are you looking at to get a referral? Two to three years?"
"Goodness no!" Dr. Fabious chuckled. "That would be far too long."
"Well, how long are you suggesting?" Margie tested hopefully.
"Once you make the decision, I think probably about two weeks," the doctor replied.
"What!" Margie explained. "You're kidding, right? So including all the paperwork and legal mumbo jumbo, you are saying we could have a child in under a year?"
"No paperwork," Dr. Fabious said dismissively. "Two
weeks from today if you tell me you have decided."
Margie stood staring at him with her jaw hanging open. To her, this was more shocking than the walls dissolving around her.
"There is one thing I want to ask you," Dr. Fabious said seriously. Margie's shock deflated a bit with cynicism as she realized he was about to pitch the catch. "I need to know how you feel about blood."
"Blood?" Margie repeated. "You mean like blood is thicker than water and all that? Well of course I think that's a bunch of foolishness. Why would I be looking to adopt if I thought blood was of any consequence?"
"True," the doctor agreed, "but do you really feel that way regardless of how different the child is from you?"
Margie had gamed all of this in her head and discussed it with Dave many times. They just wanted a child to live with, grow with and love. It did not matter the skin color, facial features or predispositions. "Yes, regardless of how different the child is, we will cherish him or her as our own, because he or she will be our own - not born of our DNA and genes, but of a stronger fabric of creation - our love and the longing of our spirits."
Dr. Fabious and Caroline exchanged smiles.
"You've piqued my curiosity, though, where do your children come from?" Margie asked.
"Well, I think you are ready to see for yourself," the doctor answered and walked toward the center of the room. "Please follow me."
"No need to go to a map," Margie said. "I was a geography major and I could point out any nation on earth."
"Well that's just it," Dr. Fabious said as he fumbled with the long tube rising to the ceiling. "This nation is not on earth."
Margie cast a questioning look at Caroline, but she just nodded with a reassuring smile and prodded her to join the doctor. Any other time, Margie would have left indignant at the foolishness of the apparent prank, but after what had already transpired here tonight, she was beyond shock or disbelief. So, she paced over to where the doctor was bent over the tube peering into a small eyepiece.
"Here it is," he said rising. "Have a look."
Margie slowly lowered her head to the eyepiece and peered into it. She saw the black cloth of space across her view and a shimmering orb about the size of a quarter in the center. It was pink and gray in hazy streaks.
