Writing Prompt #1 - 'Smoke and Mirrors'

[WP] The phone rings. You look at the caller ID and recognize the number of your childhood home. You pick up the phone and recognize the voice. It was yours when you were a kid.

Writing Prompt #1 – ‘Smoke and Mirrors’

It was the hottest summer on record, and living on the top floor of a poorly maintained apartment building with minimal to no air conditioning was not helping me beat the heat. With the girlfriend off at work and nothing to do but play Xbox, guitar or read (as it was simply too hot to do anything else) I decided to go with the latter and crack open a book.

Positioning the rotating fan a few feet away from the couch in the living area, I took residence on its old but still comfy cushions, sprawling my legs across the length of it. After taking a sip of cold water that barely made it down my throat before evaporating, I cracked open the new graphic novel I had recently purchased.

Perhaps it was the heat, or maybe fatigue, but I can honestly say that I didn’t make it more than five pages into the book before falling asleep. I’m not sure how long I was asleep, and I bet it would have been significantly longer too, if my cellphone hadn’t started to vibrate and ring from within my shorts pocket.

Being rudely awaken in such a manner was just as much a part of my plan as it was to fall asleep in the first place, so naturally I was a little bit grumpy and groggy as I sluggishly pulled the phone from my pocket. With blurry eyes, I squinted at the bright light of my phone and looked at the caller I.D.

905-931-2486 – Unknown Number

Immediately, the blur cleared and the grogginess lifted like a fog that was there one second and gone the next. My phone may not have registered the number but my brain most certainly had. That phone number belonged to a home I had spent almost all of my childhood growing up in. It was the place where I learned how to read, played most of my favorite video games and argued endlessly with my brother and sister.

It was a place that no longer existed.

As my heart began to race, I quickly sat up and debated not answering the phone, as it was most likely some random guy or girl with a number that just happened to be the same as the one of my house when I was a kid. But even if that was the case, I felt I owed whoever calling the curtesy of politely letting them know they called the wrong person. That was what I told myself as, truthfully, my curiosity got the better of me in the end.

“Hello?” I talked into the phone, with a hint of trepidation easily discernable in my voice.

First, there was a moment of silence. Then, just as I was prepared to greet the mystery caller one more time before hanging up, an instantly recognizable voice came from the other end.

“He-Hello? Is someone there? I – I need help…”

Instantly, my blood ran cold. Through the phone, I could hear the panicked voice of a boy who sounded no older than ten years old. In fact, I knew for a fact that he was ten years old, because there wasn’t a single doubt as to who this little boy was.

It was me.

At first, I thought it might have been a dream. After all, there was simply no other feasible explanation as to how it would be possible to speak to myself in a time where I was fifteen year younger than I was today. Dream or not though, I once again heard my own voice through the phone as my confusion rendered me speechless.

“Hello? I – I thought I heard someone. Please, please answer if you’re there. I’m in a lot of trouble.” He started to say something else but was unable to finish his sentence due to the interruption of a rather violent coughing fit, the sound of which began to turn my stomach.

Not knowing what else to do, instinct took over and I shakily began to speak into my end of the line. ”Yes, I’m here. Are you okay? Who is this, how did you get this number?”

I didn’t mean to bombard the poor kid with so many questions all at once, but I couldn’t help it. Turns out it didn’t matter, as the sound of my voice sent the little boy into a frenzy.

”Please! I don’t know what to do, you have to help me!” His voice, my voice, reach out to me desperately. ”I.. I was trying to show Mom that I could cook for her because she always cooks for us, even when she’s tired after work, even when I know she doesn’t want too, so I just wanted to make her happy, I wanted to cook for her this time, I wanted too…” He stopped when the flurry of his words finally took all of his breath, only to resolve in another coughing fit immediately after. When he finally stopped, I could hear soft but still panicked cries instead. ”There’s so much smoke, and the fire, it’s too big, too big that I can’t stop it... What do I do?”

At some point while listening to his anguish, tears of my own had made their way from my eyes and down my face. Mustering up all my courage, I gripped the phone tighter and attempted to calm my younger self down.

“Hey, listen to me for a sec. Can you do that buddy? Just calm down and listen to my voice.” I spoke softly but just firm enough to let him know that he needed to listen. Your name – is it Derek? Derek Richmond? You live at fourteen Cherry Hill road?”

Amidst another rack of coughs, I could hear the surprise in his voice, not to mention an immediate sense of familiar comfort. “Yeah, that’s me. How do you know?”

Surprisingly, a sad smile cut through the torrent of emotion and found its way to my face. I was taking comfort in knowing that he was taking comfort in me. “I know your mom really well. She’s an amazing mom, isn’t she? I know she loves you very much; she tells me so all the time.”

There was a few sniffles, a small cough, and then: “Really? She tells me that too, all the time. I didn’t know she told other people though.”

A fresh wave of tears rolled down my cheeks. “Yeah, Derek. Everybody else know it, I can tell you that.” Suddenly, I realized something and, taking a deep breath, continued talking. “Derek, you’re not coughing as much anymore and it sounds like you’re outside. Is that right?”

The boy spoke again, with more sadness this time. “Yes. Mom always told me that if there was ever a fire in the house, then I should run outside and make sure that Mark and Sarah are outside too.” He was crying now. “We’re all safe. But it’s all my fault. The house is burning and I can hear firetrucks and it’s all my fault”…

It was breaking my heart. Not just to relive through the torment of the most traumatic event in my family history, but to really hear how the desperation that he, that I, was feeling at this exact moment.

“Derek…” I clenched my teeth, shut my eyes, and gripped the phone in my hand as tight as I could. “Derek, it’s going to be okay. It was an accident. It’s a terrible thing, but the point is that you, your brother and your sister are okay. That’s all that your mom is gonna care about; she’ll just be happy that you’re safe. Do you understand?” I was speaking as calmly as I could, but the gravity of the situation was almost too much to handle.

It was working though. Just as I had summoned my courage in calming him down, he was doing the same as he willed himself to stay calm. Continuing, I finished with what I knew he needed to hear.

“You have to know something, Derek. You have to know that, no matter what, your mom will always, always love you. You’re her son, and that means you will always have the biggest place in her heart, right there with your brother and sister. That means that, someday, she’ll forgive you. Okay, Derek?” Barely able to contain the desperation that was now in my own voice, I realized how much I needed for this boy to hear what I way saying. “She loves you. She’ll forgive you. Remember that.”

There was an agonizingly long silence, before finally, I heard him reply with a voice that was so calm and soothing, listening to it was like jumping into a freezing cold shower on the hottest of summer days: “I know. I know she will.”

And the line went dead.

The phone slipped my hand and landed on the carpet with a dull thud. I placed my elbows on my knees and leaned forward, cradling my head in my hands. Aside from it being a dream or a psychotic break of some sort, there was no logical explanation for what had just happened. I sat there in that position with no words and no movement for almost a half hour, desperately trying to make sense of the impossible. In the eye of the whirling tornado that my brain had become, the one thing that became clear to me was that there was a resonating feeling of guilt and shame that wracked my entire body. But this time, for the first in over fifteen years, I knew what I had to do about it.

As a nervousness the likes of which I had never felt before tore through my stomach, I summed up the strength to pick up my phone off the floor, just barely noticing that the temperature had actually cooled down considerably during the length of my ordeal. If that was the case, why I was still covered in sweat?

With trembling fingers, I navigated through my phones contact list until I found who I was looking for. Rather than hesitate and risk not being able to move forward with my decision, I didn’t even think about it as I confirmed the phone call and waited for it to ring.

It rang once.

Then twice.

Three times.

Then…

“Hello?”

It was a voice that had guided me throughout the best and worst years of my life; a voice that had always been there to sooth me whenever I needed it most, or even to remain silent when I just wanted someone to listen. It was the voice of someone whom, despite everything thrown at her, both beautiful and tragic, would always cherish him for all that he was.

“Hey, Mom? Yeah, it’s good to hear your voice too. Yeah, I know it’s been a while. Yeah... Yeah… Look, I don’t mean to interrupt, but there’s - there’s something I need to talk to you about. No, no, I’m fine. I’m okay. You know… You know the fire we had on Cherry Hill, a long while back? Yeah, I know. I just… Look, you didn’t leave the stove on that night. No, you didn’t. No, mom, you didn’t. You know how the next morning you went to grab some milk from the store down the road, and when you got home, Mark, Sarah and I were all outside, and the house… Yeah, well… That’s what I need to talk to you about…”