Long Distance Call

“Hey baby it’s so good to hear from you!” She said cheerily.

“Yeah, they’ve been keeping us pretty busy over here, you’re not driving are you? “

“Well, we’re in the car, but we’re stopped by a train.”

The train tracks were a constant strain on traffic in the small town. The manufacturing jobs that still remained there were at a tire plant that used trains as their main source of transport. Trains were frequently stopping the traffic for 5 to 15 minutes at a time. Jon wanted to tell her to hang up. He hated that she even picked up the phone when she was driving with the kids. She’d wrecked more than one car before. She’d been hurt pretty bad. That was before the kids though. He hadn’t talked to her in a week and he hadn’t seen them in 7 months. He hoped it would be fine.

“I got the box you sent me! Thanks. Tell Matt I love the pictures.”

“Matt, daddy got the pictures you sent him!” he heard as she relayed the message.

“Daddy?” His son said, interested and excited.

“Yeah say hi to daddy”

“Hi daddy daddy daddy!”

“He’s drawing better, huh?” She asked.

“Yeah, it looks like he had a little help though” The three year old had somehow signed his name to the finger paintings.

“Well he can’t really write words yet. I helped him a little.”

“How’s that little girl?” He had watched her grow over the last 7 months over the internet.

“She’s good she’s getting so big!” Said the proud mom.

“Yeah, she is! I saw the pics you sent. What have you been feeding her?”

“She eats everything,!I think she’s getting a little sick though, she’s been coughing alo-“

She was interrupted by what sounded like a whistle followed by a series of pops.

“Baby? What was that?” he asked.

Silence

“Baby?” He asked again, assuring himself it was a weird connection.

“Stephanie? Hello!”

He heard nothing, he checked the phone, the call timer was still running, it was still connected. Just as he was about to hang up and call back, he heard her. He heard her moan. It was a low guttural moan.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“More moaning”

“BABY! He screamed at the phone.”

Her moans got lower and lower, he could barely hear her when he heard another sound, it was Matt, the three year old was whimpering.

“Hey buddy can you hear me? Buddy, what happened?”

Only more whimpering.

Then another voice, a young man’s voice came through over the long distance call.

“Yeah there’s a lady, and two kids in this car.”

“Nah she’s not talking, one of the kids looks 4 or 5, he’s awake, and the baby is . . .” The mans voice trailed off as he wandered away from the car.

It was a 911 call! They had gotten hit! He felt all the blood drain from his body. He’d never been more helpless.

Fuck fuck fuck, here I am 3,000 miles away! What the fuck can I do! Fuck fuck fuck, fuck fuck!

The voice was back

“Hey lady, can you hear me?”

Moans,

“Yeah, she’s moaning but she can’t really talk, should I try to get them out?”

Yes! Get them out! Take them to the hospital!

“No, there’s no fire.”

Fire! What the fuck get them out! Take them to some help!

“Okay, I hope they hurry, these cars are really jammin’ up the  . . .” the voice trailed off as he walked away again.

“COMEBACKGODDAMNIT! SOMEBODYTALKTOME! FUUUUUUUUCK!”

The cold sweat running down his back and arms felt like death. He was pacing and screaming into the phone. This would have drawn attention, but he was alone, standing in the back corner of the motor-pool, a huge parking lot full of military vehicles lined up like huge, hulkish toy soldiers. No one could see him. No one could hear him. He was alone with the terror; terrified to hang-up.

Fuck fuck fuck! Why can’t they hear me! I’m screaming! God please let them be okay. Fuck fuck fuck!

Over the phone he heard a new noise, just below the moaning of his wife of 7 years, and in between the whimpers of his 3 year old son that looked just like him he heard a rasp. Almost a hiss. It hissed rhythmically now, now with a little whimper on the end

“ssss-unh, ssss-unh” He heard his small daughter fighting to breath.

“Mommah?” He heard his son say in a confused voice

“Mommah” followed by more wimpering.

I’M HEAR BUDDY, ARE YOU OKAY? ARE YOU OKAY BUDDY?

“Mommah, I hurt. MOMMAH MY HEAD HUUUUURT!” He was upset, on the edge of a tantrum.

FUCK! FUCK FUCK FUCK, WHERE ARE THOSE FUCKING COPS!

Tears were streaming down his eyes, His knees gave way, and he fell over. He tucked his knees to his chest, slowly rocking and shaking as the sobbing gasps wracked his body. His bicep was now weak from holding the phone to his ear. He let it drop to the ground inches from his ear, as he lay down, helpless and spent, spread eagle in the hot sun. The gravel between his back and the asphalt, hot from the middle-eastern sun, burned into his skin. He didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel the sun baking his face, he closed his eyes and listened to the cheap speaker in the cheap phone slowly tear him apart.

Then over the phone he heard sirens. He picked up the phone.

The cops! Yes! They’re there. They can help! They can save them!

He heard the patient whine of a cop car, then the more urgent sound of the fire truck siren along with the air horn. He heard the insistent scream of the ambulance. He heard authoritative voices.

“Everyone back away, go back to your cars.”

“Looks like three in this one, and two in the other. Lets get started on those two.”

Those two! No! They don’t matter! They hit us!

“HEY! I’M ON THE PHONE! SOMEONE PICK UP THE PHONE!” He screamed at the phone.

He was standing again, pacing, hopeful again that his family was safe in the hands of the rescuers.

He heard the squeeeeeek of the sheetmetal followed by the pop of the door giving way. They were opening the wreckage of the car he and his wife had stressed and fought over. He’d wanted to get a cheaper car. Save money. He didn’t want a car payment. She wanted a safer newer car, with airbags and safety ratings. He was now glad she insisted.

He heard them discussing her injuries. She was unconscious and bleeding. They decided to “board her and get her on the truck”

He heard them request neck braces for his children. “Child small, and an infant”

He heard that they were going to leave his baby daughter in the car seat and get her to the ER as soon as possible. He heard his son asking “What’s wrong with mommy?” and explaining that his head hurt. He heard that his beautiful wife was looking “Shocky” and “needed a bag”

He screamed into the phone “SOMEBODY PICK UP THE GODAMN PHOOOOOONE!”

“Hello?” came a voice, the same authoritative voice that had examined his wife.

Holy fuck they picked up the phone!

“Hello? My wife and kids were in the car. I’m out of the country, are they gonna be okay?” he rattled, overjoyed, across the 3,000 miles.

“Hello?” The authoritative voice said again. Had he heard Jon explaining?

“HELLO! CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW? THAT’S MY FAMILY IN THE CAR!”

“Look Jim, she was on the phone.”

He couldn’t hear him!

“Yeah, they’re still on the line. Looks like a foreign number. Speakers busted though.”

“Nah I can’t hear a thing.”

“Beep beep beep” said the phone, ending the call and leaving him more alone than before. Leaving him with silence.

He screamed until he caughed, his frustration and fury trying to get out. He threw the phone against one of the trucks and ran to the vehicle maintenance shop, and found the first person he could. The young man was surprised to see him and even more surprised when Jon grabbed him by the arm, panting from the run, and said with what sounded like his final breath.

“I heard it all man! They’re hurt bad. You gotta get me home.” And Jon collapsed on the epoxy-coated floor.

It took them two days to get him on a plane. He was catatonic. He could only barely sign the emergency leave paper. He had bouts of anxiousness peppered amongst what seemed like an endless sadness. They assigned a “battle buddy” to accompany him home. He didn’t talk to him. He didn’t know his name. He could only hear the moans, and whimpers, and helpless gasps of his family.

The chaplain had tried to comfort him. They prayed together. He prayed long and hard and asked forgiveness for everything he’d ever done. He offered himself in return for the lives of his wife and children. He tried to will himself by their sides.

He couldn’t hold a thought in his head. He could only hear the words of his dad saying “it’s not looking good” and that “She didn’t make it” and that “they need to relieve the pressure in his skull”

His world was destroyed, as he looked at his son, his mirror image, with IV tubes and EKG leads all over his little scrawny body. The O2 Cannula hissing oxygen into his nose, his head shaven and stitched in the eerie fashion of a baseball. He listened to the beep . . .beep . . .beep; from the machine and watched the little ribs rise and fall. His little man, his buddy, the only survivor of the crash.