Phone Home

The payphone takes a moment to start ringing, and the dry heat of early afternoon sweeps lazily down the avenue.

Ring two. Few walk outside. It's a weekday and past lunch-hour, people who aren't at work are like to seek out what a/c they can. A car passes by in no great hurry and its thickset passenger looks half asleep as his radio spits out a "Whitesnake" ballad. Ring three.

-click- "This is Buford speaking. Howdy doody," A man's voice answers.

"Buford, it's Betty." The woman responds, phone tucked between her chin and shoulder as she looks out over the empty street.

"Betty? Shiiiiiiiit, baby-girl how you doin'? I ain't heard from you in months!" The cheerful voice crackles through poor reception.

"Now Bu, Momma taught you better than to swear for no good reason at all." She chides, and then her voice drops just a little bit. "How's everybody holdin' up?"

"Well, Pa's still not feelin' too well. Doctors say he took to his surgery best can be expected, but he's just not young no more and he doesn't set still long 'nuff to get the rest he needs. Momma's doin' fine, takin' care of him and givin' piano lessons on the side... I'm doin' OK too, you know. I've got Ricky this week, probably gonna take him to Applebees since he likes the place so much. And work's not so bad, landed a new account last Thursday, so. What 'bout you?"

"Well, I got a thing through the University. They got me moved out to Sacramento, in California. Which is a gorgeous drive in Autumn... really is. So anyway now I'm workin' with an Art museum down here, and it's taking so much of my time these days I can scarce get work done on my own stuff." She sighs, knowing that she can't give more away, and wondering how she turned out to be such a secretive person. "Did Ricky get the toy I sent?"

"Yup, thank you for that. It was beautiful... you know kids though, these days they can't play with nothin's that ain't a videogame..." The conversation slows into growing stretches of quiet.

"You heard from Sybil?" Betty asks.

"She sent some Christmas cards. We sent yours to your place in Dallas." Buford practically whispers.

"Yea." Nobody knows how Sybil's doing then. "Bu, I got to go. You make sure to give everyone my love. Maybe I can come home for Easter."

"Pa and Momma'd love that. Heck, wouldn't mind much myself either."

"You take care Bu..."

"You too ruby-cheeks."

-click-