Numbers on the Ninth (of April)

            “Well, they’re finally going to try those guys for the 911 disaster.  Was I trying to call John?” 

            “Yes, but it was busy.”

            “I’ll try again.  What is the number again?”

            “114.”

            “Busy.  He must be talking to someone.”

            I sit, busily typing dialogue on my laptop while Mom returns to her Time magazine.  We just finished watching the evening news.  I’m wishing I had spent more time outside when the sun was shining:  the rain is supposed to start back up tomorrow. 

            It’s been a low key day.  The main events have been practicing my alto flute, taking a long nap after lunch, and wasting the afternoon on the Internet.

            “I’m wondering if I could just barge over there.  I haven’t been over there in ages.  Well, I’ll try once more.  113?”

            “No, 114.”

            “Busy!  I’ll try once more in a couple of minutes.”

            This is the time of evening when Mom sometimes goes over to watch TV with John.  She doesn’t always call first, but tonight she is determined to do just that.  I’m waiting for another 911 statement.  (She started reading that article before supper and has been reporting on it periodically since then.)

            “Did you say 131?”

            “No. 114.”

            She fumbles with the receiver, punches in a few numbers and says it is still busy.  John is not one to spend endless time on the phone (like I am), so I pick up my extension and call him.  After all, he had mentioned earlier that her phone might not be working.  “Can Mom come over for awhile?”

            “Sure,” he says.

            And so she gets her coat on, grabs the flashlight, and walks out the front door as I type this very sentence.  I think I am going to spend the next quiet hour reading, but not about 911.