Saving Michael Jackson

Ryan White

I practically burst out of the room and raced down the stairs. The phone. I needed the phone.
My hands grabbed the giant beige receiver so fast I nearly knocked it off the table.

"Come on, come on..." I stared at the buttons. Numbers. Only numbers. No screen. No contacts.
No recent calls. Nothing.

"Damn it!"
I jabbed random buttons before stopping myself.
How was I supposed to find Liam?

"Why did you run out of the room like that?" Wanda asked from the couch.

I turned toward her desperately. "Show me the recent calls."

"The what?"

"The recent calls! Show me who called one day before Christmas last year!"

Michael appeared behind her, looking confused.
"Who called one day before Christmas?"

Damn it. I couldn't tell them the truth. But I had to find Liam. I had to know about Linda.

"Please," I said. "It's really important."

Wanda stared at me.
"Recent calls?" she repeated slowly. "Cindy, tell me when exactly you think these phones got that feature."

I looked at the giant brick-like phone in my hand.
Right. 1989.  Of course. No recent calls. No caller ID. No internet. No anything. Great.

"So you're telling me there's absolutely no way to find somebody?"

"If you're looking for someone," Wanda said, shrugging, "dial 411. Give them information about the person. They'll give you numbers and eventually you'll find whoever you're looking for."

I stared at her. "Don't joke around, Wanda! This isn't funny. I need to talk to this person now!"

Michael immediately stepped forward. "Hey."
His voice was calm. Gentle. He touched my hand.
Just my hand and somehow every nerve in my body immediately relaxed. What was he? God?
Because no normal person should have that effect on me. I opened my mouth to answer— And everything vanished. The living room disappeared. The walls. The furniture. Michael. Wanda. Gone.

A bright white light swallowed everything. For a moment I thought I'd gone blind. The room around me was completely empty. No windows.
No furniture. No sound. No smell. Nothing. Just endless white.
Then footsteps echoed behind me. I turned and Liam appeared out of nowhere. As usual, looking mildly annoyed.

"Why did you call me?" he asked.

I blinked. "Call you?"

"I was busy."

"Busy?" I stared at him. "I don't even have your number!"

Liam folded his arms and i narrowed my eyes.

"Oh, come on. What are you? An angel?"

"What do you need?" Straight to the point. Typical Liam. I took a breath.

"I need to know if Linda is okay."

For the first time, his expression changed.
Slightly.

"If she's dying," I continued, "if she's dead, if anything happened, I want you to take me back immediately."

Liam frowned. Then rubbed his chin. For some reason he didn't seem concerned.

"You'd leave Michael?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes.

"Yes."

His eyebrows lifted. "Without meeting Murray?"

Immediately my mood darkened. "I don't fucking care about Murray."

Liam sighed. "Still?"

"Stop mentioning him."