Short Stories

Phone Call

I've been wondering why I took the day off. I could have just gone it late, instead of worrying all day. My heart leaps when the phone rings. I know who it is. I haven't been expecting a call, hoping for one, but not expecting it.

"Hey dad, they said I get a five-minute call before they own us, so I thought I'd give you a buzz and...you know..." I'm elated he's chosen to call me and not his girlfriend. She isn't my favorite person, but I try not to let him know how I feel about her.

"Five minutes? You think you can keep talkin' for a whole five minutes do ya?" Is that wrong, to tease my kid when he's leaving home forever? If I don't I'll likely get all emotional, and dads aren't supposed to be emotional. Right?

"Maybe, I got a few things to say." There's indignation mingled with humor in his voice, a tone I know well. Apparently, he doesn't mind the teasing too much.

"Which are?" God, I'm going to miss this.

"For starters, that sandwich you packed me got all squished up, and if I hadn't been half starved, I would have tossed it in the trash. And also, I realized I don't like flying, so it's gonna be a long four years.

"You called on your first day of boot camp to complain about my cooking and flying?"

There's a pause, "That wasn't my original plan, but your challenge to talk for the whole five minutes made me nervous, so I improvised. Besides, you can't really call PB and J cooking."

"The bread was toasted, so it's cooked smart ass."

He chuckles.

"Now you're down to four minutes. Do you think the planned dialogue will stretch that far, or do you need to improvise some more?"

"I think I'll cover the planned stuff now, and then, if I still have time left, I'll improvise from there." A long pause and a sigh. "The thing is, I thought this would be great, like a big adventure, but now I just feel—alone. Not alone, alone. There's tons of people here, and I think I'll get on with the guys in the bunk just fine, but it's not—home."

"Don't worry about it, son. In a few days, you'll be settled in and making friends, and then it'll feel like home. And those four years are going to go faster than you think."

"I guess so," He sounds unconvinced, sad even. I can feel the moisture pushing into my eyes and my throat tightening.

"You'll do great. You always have. You're the toughest, most resilient kid—not kid, you're not a kid anymore. You're the toughest most resilient man I know. You tackle anything anyone can throw at you, and I'm real proud of you. Real proud." I'm struggling to hold my composure.

"Thanks." He grows quiet, and I try not to sniff into the phone. "You gonna be all right there, all by yourself?"

"Of course I will. I was thinking of having a mid-life crisis, you know, maybe buy a Lamborghini. Now that I won't be spending a fortune on feeding you. Or I could run off with some hot little waitress and..."

"Don't be gross," He interrupts.

"There is nothing gross about a Lamborghini, it's a fine automobile.

"That's not--never mind. I'm serious though. You changed a lot after mom died, I just don't want..."

"I'll be fine son," his concern unravels me, and I choke back the tears. "If I get too lonely, maybe I'll just join up myself. I could use the exercise."

"Very funny," I almost see him roll his eyes and shake his head. "Shit, time's up, gotta go. Love you, dad."

"Love you too, son." As I hang up the snot mixes with the tears in my beard. On second thought staying home today was a good idea.