"Hello?" I asked breathlessly.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence on the other end, I
heard someone clear their throat. I felt a bolt of electric shock tingle
from my ear to every cell in my body as-
"Becky?" a deep, raspy voice practically whispered.
I jerked the phone away from my ear and held it in front of my face.
I stared at it like some foreign object I had never seen before. My jaw hung
open as I continued to stare at it. I heard a low voice ask, unsurely,
"Hello?"
I quickly brought the phone back to my ear. "Yes, sorry," I
stammered.
I would know that voice anywhere. I would know that voice even if I
were deaf. I couldn't believe it.
"Do you believe me now?" he said more confidently.
I paused and sighed. "Sing for me," I murmured. It was the only way
I could be absolutely sure. My head rolled back against my neck and I
listened with my eyes closed.
He sang, slowly at first but increasingly steadily, a song I
recognized from one of their import CD's. "Every time I close my eyes, I see
your face and I wonder, when you close your eyes, do you think about me? Now
I realize, I want you girl and no other. Every time I close my eyes, you're
all that I see." His voice faded and he fell into silence. I could sense
his eagerness to discover my reaction, but he patiently waited for me to
process this attack on my reality.
I couldn't speak. My throat was constricted-I couldn't breathe. My
mind went reeling and I felt dizzy. I fell from my chair and slid down onto
the floor. I managed to squeeze out:
"Oh...my...God," I slowly said.
I could hear him chuckle on the other end of the line. "Are you
going to be all right?"
"I think I'll live." I fought to keep my voice steady as I struggled
for air. "I just fell out of my chair, that's all." I inwardly groaned.
Why did I have to tell him that?
"Becky..." his voice trailed off.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for trusting me." Relief and thankfulness were evident in
his voice. "I didn't want to miss this chance."
I smiled and mouthed a silent Thank You in the direction of the sky.
I then settled back in my chair and prepared myself for a long conversation
with the one, the only, Alexander James McLean.
"Tell me about what it's like to be you," I inquired.
"No!" he replied strongly. I made a confused face and waited for him
to continue. "I don't want to talk about me. All day, every day, people
expect me to talk about myself. I'm sure you know all about me, anyway.
Right now I want to talk about you. I want contact with a real person."
"Well," I said, sounding shocked, "I think that's the first time a
man has ever said that to me!"
He sounded confused. "Said what?"
"Number one, that he'd rather talk about me than himself, and number
two, that I'm a real person!"
We both laughed, and for once I felt appreciated. We talked about my
interests for a while-and he actually listened to me-and seemed interested!
He asked a lot of questions and expressed curiosity when I told him certain
facts about myself, such as that I played the cello, or that I was nominated
for valedictorian. Sometimes, after he would ask me a question, I would be
so caught up in simply listening to his voice that I would forget to answer.
His voice was raspy, almost grating, but in a way that was very pleasant to
listen to. It was very soothing...and sincere. After about forty-five
minutes of conversation, I fell into silence for a moment.
"What are you thinking about?" A.J. asked me gently.
"I just can't believe this is happening," I said pensively. "I mean,
I have tried so hard to convince myself that you were never really who you
said you were. It's not that I didn't believe you-I just didn't believe in
myself. I was trying to prepare myself for disappointment. Whenever I
believe in something, it seems it always turns out to be a lie. I've been
hurt so many times I just didn't want to be hurt again."
He seemed to think for a few moments. "I understand. There are so
many people out there who have no regard for the feelings of others. It
scares me sometimes..." He paused. "But I would never do anything like that.
It's been done to me too, and I never want to make somebody else feel like
that."
I tried desperately to believe him, but my heart just wouldn't let
me. Long ago I had lost my ability to trust, and one telephone conversation
was not enough to bring it back.
Okay, I thought...time to lighten the mood. I stood up, stretched,
and lay down on my bed, my feet hanging lazily off the side. Changing the
subject, I asked casually, "So, A.J. - why do they call you Bone?" I felt an
evil grin spread across my face and knew that he was doing the same.
"Would you like to find out?" he teased.
I laughed, "Oh, you wicked, wicked man!"
"I try," he declared with mock modesty.
"And you succeed," I said sarcastically. I stuck my tongue out at
the phone and smirked.
"Don't you stick your tongue out at me, woman!" he joked.
My jaw dropped. "How did you know that?"
In a mysterious tone, he whispered, "I know all, my lady." I
involuntarily shivered and crossed my arms. The way he said that...
I decided to have some fun. "So, Mr. Know It All," I said smugly,
"What am I thinking right now?"
A.J. made a humming, meditating noise, and said with a heavy accent,
"Well, let's see...The lady is happy..."
"Correct," I affirmed.
"She is thinking...that the gentleman is..."
"A nutcase?" I laughed. I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair.
"No!" he said indignantly. "Well, yes. But...the lady is
thinking...that she likes the gentleman very much."
I sighed. Please don't do this to me, A.J., I thought. I'm not sure
I can take it. "The lady doesn't even know the gentleman," I gently chided
him. "And the gentleman knows the lady even less."
I could almost hear him trying to get together the courage to say
whatever he was thinking. He said slowly, "But...the gentleman would like to
get to know the lady. Very much." His voice caught, rasping more than usual,
and he paused expectantly.
My eyes fluttered shut and I placed my hand over my forehead. I
kneaded my temples and said, "A.J. ...That's impossible, and you know it."
I heard him slam his hand against something. A table or desk, maybe.
"No!" he exclaimed. "It's not impossible. Becky, I know this is the first
time I've ever talked to you, but I have been talking to you over the
computer, even if you didn't know I was really me, and I feel like I know
you. Give me a chance, girl. It's all I ask."
I sighed and leaned back against the headboard of my bed. "I don't
know, A.J. We'll see how things go." I glanced at my clock, and was shocked
to find that it read 1:12. "Oh my god! A.J.!" I yelled.
"What?" he said, startled.
"It's one o'clock in the morning!" I said. "I have to go! I have
school tomorrow! I have to be up in four and a half hours! I am gonna be so
tired tomorrow..." I jumped up and started to change into boxers and a tank
top while still on the phone.
"I didn't even realize we were talking so long," he said. "Three
hours! That's the longest I've talked to someone in a long time. I really
enjoyed it."
I paused from my changing. "Not as much as I did," I said sincerely.
I heard his sharp intake of breath and guessed he was about to say
something, so I sat down and waited. Finally, he said, "I want to talk to
you again. Soon. This has meant a lot to me. Would that be all right with
you?"
"A.J.," I said warmly, "if you have to ask that question, you're
crazier than I thought you were. Of course I'd love to talk to you again."
He chuckled with relief, I suppose, and said enthusiastically,
"Wonderful! I knew my lady would choose wisely.
Can I call you again
tomorrow night?"
I walked down the hallway and ducked into the bathroom to take out my
contact lenses. Before I did, I stopped in front of the mirror and studied
myself. I looked different, somehow. "I suppose so," I said, pretending to
act nonchalantly, and then laughed softly. "How about nine o'clock? Or did
you have plans?"
"Well," he said thoughtfully. "Tomorrow is Friday, and I think the
guys and I were going to go out."
I stopped dead in my tracks in the middle of the hallway. I
carefully asked, "Oh, really? Where are you going?"
"The guys and I were gonna go out to dinner and then go out to
Pleasure Island. You know what that is, right?"
I sighed impatiently. "Yes, A.J., I live in Tampa, not Antarctica.
I go there all the time." An idea was forming gradually in my head. It
involved a risk - a great one - but one I was willing to take. "So, can you
call me when you get back?"
"It'll be late," he warned.
"It doesn't matter," I reassured him.
He chuckled. "Don't go crazy waiting by the phone, now."
"A.J., if you think I'm going to wait by the phone, you are seriously
delusional," I laughed along with him. I added to myself: I'll be a lot
closer to you tomorrow night than sitting by my phone.
His voice grew soft. "I'll talk to you tomorrow night, then," he
said seriously.
"Definitely."
"Bye," he said reluctantly.
I softly said, "Bye, A.J.," and hung up the phone. I collapsed
backward onto my bed and resisted the urge to pinch myself. This is real, I
told myself. This is happening.
Tomorrow night, it was all going to come down. I knew what I had to
do. And I was ready.
Go..
