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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2036753-A-Phone-Rings-on-Mulberry-Street
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #2036753
Entry for the Writer's Cramp contest.
A Phone Rings on Mulberry Street


By Mantis




Jack sunk his fingers down inside his collar and loosened his tie, and did not much care for the sudden constriction at his throat. It was stiflingly hot and muggy outside, but that was not the case inside his car. The air conditioner was doing its job fine alright. It had just mysteriously become hard to breathe.

Jack reached for his cell phone and held it expectantly. His car kept wanting to swerve to the right and then to the left. He held the cell phone like a pacifier, sensing a call at any moment, and struggled to maintain the Oldsmobile inside the lane for a little longer. Everything was getting blurry outside the windshield too, but he had his phone in hand. A call was coming.

The phone rang just as the mailbox out front cracked with a loud thump upon impact and tore from its foundation, it and splinters and earth (and even an envelope or two) flying up and skidding towards him along the hood of the car, then up and over the windshield. And then all were gone. Jack saw the green grass of the front yard and thought it quite pretty, and his tires had a devil of a time finding traction on that lawn as the car fishtailed back and forth.

"Hello, Sir," said Jack. "I'm so pleased you have called."

"My pleasure. Is everything in order, Jack?"

"Oh yes, Sir! I'm certain all my ducks are in a row." Jack found the voice on the other end of the line calming and soothing, its sensuous, rich tenor sing-song and beautiful in his ear - much more so than he had ever expected it to be.

The car was back on the street now, and Jack thought it a little funny that the road extended out the view of the passenger-side window instead of the windshield. Then there was another lawn ahead. This lawn was posh and manicured to perfection, boasting a richer green than the one he'd just left across the street. There was a house before him too, and Jack thought it best to try to avoid a neighborly knock on the front door with the grill of his car.

"Did you call Katie last night, Jack? Did you tell her?"

"I did indeed, Sir."

"Tell me."

"Yes, I told her that I loved her very much. They were my parting words to her, I can tell you that. Plus, I added in how proud of her I was. Yes sir... all my ducks are in a row."

Jack could no longer breathe, but that couldn't stop the effusion of satisfaction he felt at that moment with the way his life had turned out; and happily he watched the world go round and round as his car began to roll end over end. A quality in the sound of that voice on the phone filled him with joy and serenity. It had an orchestral quality to it, and it sounded to Jack like a symphony; and he was certain that its melody was the perfect soundtrack to his life. "You may be pleased to hear she's maintaining a 3.9 average over at Bethany."

"You've raised her well, Jack. You've done such a fine job of it, sir, all along. As a father, as a husband... you are a shining example to all. I'm very proud of you, Jack."

"I just know she is going to do alright." The roof of his car began crumpling and there was the smell of gasoline. "And I dare say she's gonna do a hell of a lot better than my dear old car here, don't you think?" Jack giggled like a child. But he felt certain that it would have been a better giggle if he could only draw some air into his lungs.

"How old are you now, Jack? Sixty three, is it?"

"Yes, Sir." The glove box banged open and out flew Marie's nail polish, pinging and ricocheting off the dash board with every tumble of the car, and then there went the windshield collapsing in on itself. It had been such a fine windshield, thought Jack.

"And did you tell Marie?"

"I did, Sir," said Jack as his clogged heart shuddered and thumped its last beat. "I told her I loved her more than she could ever know this morning when I left for work. I drew her close to me, and I kissed her hard, and she said, 'Oh, Jackie... you ol' dog, you.' I kissed her long and good, just the way I did on that summer night by Morain Lake some forty odd years ago... back when I first tasted those luscious lips of hers."

"Yes, you seem to have everything in order, Jack. By the way... are your legalities and beneficiaries all tidied up?"

"They are, Sir. Marie will want for nothing. Her basket shall remain full the rest of her days."

"That is very good indeed."

Jack's phone went flying out of his hand, but he really didn't need it anymore.

"Doc said my ticker was on the fritz... guess that old curmudgeon never has seen fit to lie about such."

"He did all that he could for you, Jack. But it's okay... because you've got all your ducks in a row." The voice soothed Jack like the gentle, peaceful flowing of a meadow stream. "We can go now if you'd like."

"Okay... just let me pull over."

Jack's car came skidding and grinding and sliding to a stop in an uproar of smoke and sparks right in the middle of Mulberry street, spinning one last turn on its roof before coming to a rest.

Jack stepped onto the golden elevator and went up into the light, happy and content, broadly smiling upon the sense of awe and wonderment which overtook him; and was taken by the hand and welcomed warmly into the fold of rapture - into the place he had carved a niche for himself with the jackknife of a life so very well lived.
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