STORY #1
LEO had been dead almost a month when the phone rang.
”Hello?”
”Hey, Frank. How ya doin?”
”Who is this?”
”You know who it is, Frank. It’s Leo, Leo Wolfe.”
I suddenly felt a deep, deep coldness; intense cold. The reciever even flet cold and clammy in my hands. ”Leo Wolfe died a month ago, smartass. This isn’t funny.”
”Yeah, your’e right about the time; 3 weeks, 4 days, 6 hours, and 15 minutes, to be exact.”
I felt that coldness again. ”who are you, and what do you want?”
I heard a little chuckle on the other end; a familiar chuckle.
”Cmon, Frank! You know me!”
”This is piss-poor joke, asshole.”
”Sorrry, no joke, Franky baby. YOUare alive, and I am DEAD. And you know something? I am glad I did it.”
”Did what?” I asked, playing along.
”KIlled myself. Death is just like I thought it would be; no problems, no pressures, no bullshit…”
I tried to make light of the situation. ”Dead men don’t use phones, man.”
”That’s just it, Frank. I am not using a phone. This is some sort of psychic bullshit.”
I suddenly realized with terrifying clarity thatI was really listening to Leo’s voice.
”Okay,” I said, relcutantly. ”I do not believe in ghosts, but I will admit that I am talking to you.”
”Good, Frank. Because I know you wanted - needed - someone to talk to.”
”And why’s that?”
”All your problems, Frank. Face it; your life is shit. Your wife left you for a younger guy with a big dick, you lost the house and half your bank account, you never see your own kids….”
He was right; my life was shit. ”Your’e right, Leo. But what can I do?”
”One thing, man. Just take that gun you keep in the upstairs closet, and….”
”Oh, no. No WAY, man. I couldn’t do that…”
”Yes, you CAN. It wont be that bad! I will be here waiting for you! We will be buddies all over agin! Life sucks, but death is like a wet dream! Cmon, Frank….use the gun…..use the gun……use the g..”
Well it’s been almost a month now, and Leo was right; death is cool. No problems, no bullshit. And I know just how badly you need to talk…..
Hey; isn’t that your phone ringing?
Better answer it………
………..it’s very important that we talk……
—–
STORY #2
Allan’s wife was the first one to hear the crying coming
from the next room.
She nudged him awake wtih her elbow. ”Allan? Get up, it’s your turn.”
”My turn to what?” he said, feigning ignorance.
”You know what,” she shot back. ”We’re supposed to take turns,
remember?”
”Yeah, I know, but the lady we adopted here from
said she hardly ever cried.” he protested.
”I know, Allan. But sh’e just a baby, for God’s
sake. ”Babies cry, you know.”
He said, ”All I know is, we paid thousands of
dollars for a baby that didn’t cry. Don’t you
ever get tired of waking up in the middle of the
night?”
”Sure I do,” she said. ”But it’s one of the
responsibilities of being a parent. Now, please,
go check on her. OKay?”
”Look,” he said. ”Would it hurt to rearrange
her schedule just a little? She sleeps all day
anyway.”
”For the last time, Allan, GO CHECK ON THAT BABY!”
”OKAY!” he said in an exasperated tone, and
climbed slowly out of bed.
After mixing her formula, he went down to her
bedroom, gently picked her up from her crib,
looking into her face with…admiration…a kind of
…..love. Her cute little pink mouth, drawn in
crayon, her little black button eyes, staring
knowingly into his own. Her tiny, rag stuffed arms
and legs hung limply at her sides.
He put the bottle to her lips, tipped it up.
After all of the liquid had absorbed into the cloth
body, he set the bottle down, and began rocking
her in his arms. The corners of the crayon mouth
slowly crept upward, smiling at him.
His heart melted. ”I really do love you,” he
said, his eyes welling up with tears.
”Da-da,” it said, and it’s little legs began
to kick.
