Work Text:
The ringing phone woke Adele Baracus. She rolled over in her bed and looked at the glowing light of the alarm clock. 3:17 AM. She tensed. No good news ever came at 3:17AM. She willed herself to keep breathing as she sat up and reached for the phone.
“Hello?” she said.
There was the static of a long-distance line, but nothing else.
“Hello?” she said again. She thought she heard traffic noises, maybe trucks? Wind?
“Hello?” Was this a prank? Maybe a wrong number? Maybe someone calling about Scooter? That possibility made her throat tighten.
“Hey, Mama, it’s me.”
“Scooter!” she gasped in relief. “Are you OK? It’s the middle of the night.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s not easy to find a place where I can call sometimes.”
“It’s OK, Baby. I understand. But you’re all right? And the others?”
“We’re fine, Mama. I wanted to visit. I don’t like you being alone today, but I can’t right now. We’re not close and the Army…”
“It’s not a good time, Scooter. I haven’t seen anything, but some of the other tenants told me there are unfamiliar cars parked down the street. And Maise Elliot said she was stopped and offered a payment if I could give her a heads-up if she saw you.”
“That’s ain’t right, Mama. I should be with you. We should go to the cemetery together today. Lay a wreath. Say a prayer. Remember. It’s 16 years today. The only times I’ve missed was when I was in ‘Nam. I ain’t there now and they won’t let me do right by him to remember the day he died.”
“Your Daddy would understand. You aren’t being disrespectful. You are doing what you need to stay alive and free until all this unpleasantness works out.”
“That’s one thing to call it, I guess.”
“Now your Aunt Bernice and her sister are coming. So is your Uncle Clark. We’re going to have breakfast and then we’ll go pay our respects to your Daddy.”
“You’ll tell them I would be there if I could?”
“Don’t you think they know that?”
“I suppose. Is everything all right with you?”
“Oh, Scooter, I’m fine. Nothing to complain about. Now I know you can’t stay on the line long. The Army listens in on my calls. Just to hear you and know you remember is enough for now. You tell the others I send my love. They’re good men. Good friends. I know they’ll help you get through today.”
“OK, Mama. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Scooter.”
She heard a click and the receiver was silent.
Finis