As I flipped through its pages, it took me a moment before I realized that I recognized each of the names written in a simple, neat script. But they weren't the names of my friends... Each of these people had died. All that was written in the phone book was their name and a phone number, each one different--specific just for them.
I could call my best friend who died suddenly when I was nine. Or my grandfather who had only just died a few years ago.
The phone book frightened me at first but then one day when I came home from school to learn that my parents were separating, I finally decided to dial one of the numbers in the book.
The phone rang and rang and rang. And just when I thought I would get the operator, someone picked up. My grandmother.
Don't ask me how I knew it was her. I just do. It was something in my soul.
After that, I found myself using the phone book to call family and friends I had lost too soon.
For months the phone book was mine--all mine--until I learned that my friend's little brother had just passed away after being diagnosed with cancer.
I ran to their house as quick as I could and was engulfed in the suffocating grief. I spent the afternoon with the family, cooking dinner for them, doing their laundry, and offering hugs when I could.
As I went to leave for the night, something made me stop and turn back to my friend's mom.
"I-" I started but stopped, wondering what they would think of me. The feeling of the phone book in my bag hung down on me, weighing me down. This was something I could not keep from them--the power of the phone book needed to be shared. "I think I know of a way to talk with Julian."
My friend's dad who was a bit old fashioned, scowled at me. "Our son is in heaven," he informed me. "We won't be able to speak with him again until we join him."
"You're wrong." I knew there could have been a better way to handle the situation but I didn't want his beliefs to get in the way of his wife and daughter talking to Julian again. This phone book had been a precious gift to me and I knew it would bless them just as much as it had blessed me. "There is a way," I declared, pulling the phone book out of my bag.
"A notebook?" My friend shook her head, clearly confused.
"A phone book," I corrected her before opening it and flipping through it. "It has the name of every person I've ever known who passed away--my friend Katie, my grandparents, Brad from school..." My voice drifted off as I came to the final and newest name in the book. "And Julian," I whispered, placing the book in his mother's hands.
She stared down at the name and the assigned number beside it, trembling.
"How?" She looked up to me for answers though I had none to give.
I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. But I do know that it works. I've talked to everyone in here. But I think you should be the one to talk with Julian."
"It's witchcraft!" My friend's dad shouted, trying to rip the book from his wife's hands.
"It's not witchcraft," I tried to defend though I knew how difficult that might be to believe. "If you don't believe me, try it--call him."
"I think you should leave."
"I want to try."
We all turned to look and see my friend's mom with her phone in her hand, the number already dialed.
"Claire," her husband tried to stop her.
She just shook her head. "I have to try," she whispered as she pressed CALL.
We all stood in silence, waiting to see what would happened. The family was about to give up but I knew it took seven rings before they picked up and as my friend's mom let out a gasp, I knew it had worked.
"Julian?" Her voice was light and airy but her eyes were wide open as she spun around to look at me. I gave a smile, urging her to go on. She slowly turned and whispered, "Julian, it's mommy..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Six years ago today we got a phone call telling us that my dad's dad had just died. Almost eight months ago, my brother joined him over There. Death is a strange thing...
Julian was the name of a young boy also in Roswell while Jed was there. The doctors sent him home to die, giving him just 100 days to live... That was last August.
Today's writing prompt was "a ringing phone"... I wish I had a phone book to call each of them and just sit and talk. So many talks I took for granted...
a.r.w.
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