Right Number
I took a little break from writing, but I just had a dream that was too good to keep to myself. Here goes:
I’m playing hooky from class, sitting on the couch at a friend’s house laughing it up. I get a call on my cell phone. I hear in a meek voice, “Hi.” Ok. “Hi, who’s this,” I respond. The voice won’t tell me his name. Ok, what’s with this Bozo? The voice tells me, “This sounds like [my name],” Adopting my official and distant tone, I confirm, “Yes, this is he,” careful to get my grammar correct. “To whom am I speaking?” No answer, just a sigh. “Can I help you? What can I help you with?” An even deeper silence. I shoot a questioning look at my friend sitting on the couch in front of me. He shrugs as if to say I should hang up. I almost do, but the way he sighed…. I get the distinct feeling this is someone who’s distraught and a thought occurs to me: this may be someone I just recently met, say through church, who’s calling me in a time of crisis. I get the sick thought this person may be on the verge of killing himself or something! “Are you all right?” A melancholy sigh. Damn, my suspicions are confirmed. My friend thinks he’s funny so he suggests I tell the caller to meet us for lunch at 1pm along with Susie, John, Bob and the rest of the gang—made-up people. I do, however, suggest to the voice that he meet me for lunch at 12pm. And then I immediately regret it. After all, I have no idea what kind of mess I’m inviting into my life. I don’t know where this person is calling from; they could be nowhere near campus. What makes me think he might be near me or that he’ll be able to come meet me? Was that the right thing to do for a man in crisis? Maybe I should go to him, like now?
Well, I may as well try to find out who this person is. “Do I know you from church maybe? I feel terrible that I don’t recognize your voice.” I mentally go through as many of the new people I’ve met at church recently as I can remember. I just can’t place the voice; I don’t know if I’ve ever heard it before. He responds, “My voice? Oh, no one pays much attention to me anyway. I guess you wouldn’t recognize it.” I try a different tactic. “So where are you at?” “I’m at Chris’s.” Ok, that might be useful. “Chris…Chris…do I know Chris?” Again, no direct answer, just, “I tried to fax you three times!” He says this last with a plaintive hurt and a quaver in his voice. I’m feeling terrible all the while. This guy is obviously in pain. I wish I could help him somehow…
And then I wake up. I think about the dream a little bit and within 30 seconds I realize who just called me and that it was He who wanted to help me, if only I would read the Word on the fax He sent me. I prayed and then wrote this so that I wouldn’t forget.
I’m playing hooky from class, sitting on the couch at a friend’s house laughing it up. I get a call on my cell phone. I hear in a meek voice, “Hi.” Ok. “Hi, who’s this,” I respond. The voice won’t tell me his name. Ok, what’s with this Bozo? The voice tells me, “This sounds like [my name],” Adopting my official and distant tone, I confirm, “Yes, this is he,” careful to get my grammar correct. “To whom am I speaking?” No answer, just a sigh. “Can I help you? What can I help you with?” An even deeper silence. I shoot a questioning look at my friend sitting on the couch in front of me. He shrugs as if to say I should hang up. I almost do, but the way he sighed…. I get the distinct feeling this is someone who’s distraught and a thought occurs to me: this may be someone I just recently met, say through church, who’s calling me in a time of crisis. I get the sick thought this person may be on the verge of killing himself or something! “Are you all right?” A melancholy sigh. Damn, my suspicions are confirmed. My friend thinks he’s funny so he suggests I tell the caller to meet us for lunch at 1pm along with Susie, John, Bob and the rest of the gang—made-up people. I do, however, suggest to the voice that he meet me for lunch at 12pm. And then I immediately regret it. After all, I have no idea what kind of mess I’m inviting into my life. I don’t know where this person is calling from; they could be nowhere near campus. What makes me think he might be near me or that he’ll be able to come meet me? Was that the right thing to do for a man in crisis? Maybe I should go to him, like now?
Well, I may as well try to find out who this person is. “Do I know you from church maybe? I feel terrible that I don’t recognize your voice.” I mentally go through as many of the new people I’ve met at church recently as I can remember. I just can’t place the voice; I don’t know if I’ve ever heard it before. He responds, “My voice? Oh, no one pays much attention to me anyway. I guess you wouldn’t recognize it.” I try a different tactic. “So where are you at?” “I’m at Chris’s.” Ok, that might be useful. “Chris…Chris…do I know Chris?” Again, no direct answer, just, “I tried to fax you three times!” He says this last with a plaintive hurt and a quaver in his voice. I’m feeling terrible all the while. This guy is obviously in pain. I wish I could help him somehow…
* * *
And then I wake up. I think about the dream a little bit and within 30 seconds I realize who just called me and that it was He who wanted to help me, if only I would read the Word on the fax He sent me. I prayed and then wrote this so that I wouldn’t forget.
posted by anchovy @ 8:30 AM
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