The Last Phone Call
6:02 PM, Sunday, August 4.
"Hey, Dad."
"Tonito. You're two minutes late; what happened, you overslept?"
Preston laughs politely, as he's supposed to; doesn't wince at 'Tonito', as he usually would, and the laugh doesn't last as long as it should either. "How's Connie?"
"The doctors say she's doing better." The answer comes too quickly to be true. They both know it. "She'll be home any day - Kit and Elena are there with her now. Alma's here, though, if you want to talk to her -"
"Sure, put her on."
"Not so fast, mi chavito. I've got you for a few minutes first. How's your class?"
"Teacher's still out sick. The TA's a grad student, but he's trying." He doesn't say that a significant portion the class is sick, too, more people falling ill each day; for one thing, a good half of the sick ones keep showing up until they drop, despite the protests of their roommates and the campus doctors. UChicago students are what some might call unhealthily dedicated, and the ones who stick around to take extra classes during the summer session even more so.
"Well, I don't want you slacking off just because the teacher's out, you hear? I'm still paying for that session."
"No slacking, got it."
"Your sister's standing here making faces. You want him, Alma? Oh, now she's shooing me out of the room, what have you got to say to your brother that I can't hear? Okay, Preston, here's Alma -"
"Tonito!"
"Mocosco. What're you doing here, aren't you supposed to be at the hospital with your mom?"
"We're taking turns now. I had a date, but it got cancelled."
Preston wonders if it's the bad connection that makes her sound as if she's losing her voice. Hopes it is. "Tell Tomas that if he stands you up again, your big scary brother's gonna beat him up when he gets home, no joke."
"He didn't stand me up, he's sick. Anyways, it's not like that'd work, Preston, he's seen you."
"Ha ha. Listen, Alma, you feeling all right?"
"I'm fine." It's the weary tone of someone who's been asked that question more than once in the past twenty-four hours. "You're just like Dad, stop worrying. Speaking of, he wants the phone back -"
"- Preston, it's Dad again."
"Really, 'cause if you hadn't told me, I'd never have been able to tell you from Alma. Look - is she okay?"
A pause. "Why wouldn't she be okay?"
"Dad, I'm serious. If something's wrong, you tell me, all right?"
"Si, anything happens, you'll hear. Go concentrate on your studies. We're all going to be fine."
"Right," Preston says; tries to make it sound like he believes it. "Give my love to Connie and Kit and 'Lena."
"Will do." It's quiet for a moment; he's about to hang up, when he hears his father again, sounding tired all of a sudden, sounding old: "Don't wait until next Sunday to call, all right?"
"I won't. Love you, Dad."
"Love you, Tonito."
He hears the click of the call ending, and stands, holding his cell phone, for a long time. He'll call Wednesday, or maybe Tuesday; if he calls tomorrow, his father will just tell him not to worry, to go back to his studies.
Maybe he'll call Tuesday.
On Tuesday, August 6, the phone lines go down. They don't go back up.
"Hey, Dad."
"Tonito. You're two minutes late; what happened, you overslept?"
Preston laughs politely, as he's supposed to; doesn't wince at 'Tonito', as he usually would, and the laugh doesn't last as long as it should either. "How's Connie?"
"The doctors say she's doing better." The answer comes too quickly to be true. They both know it. "She'll be home any day - Kit and Elena are there with her now. Alma's here, though, if you want to talk to her -"
"Sure, put her on."
"Not so fast, mi chavito. I've got you for a few minutes first. How's your class?"
"Teacher's still out sick. The TA's a grad student, but he's trying." He doesn't say that a significant portion the class is sick, too, more people falling ill each day; for one thing, a good half of the sick ones keep showing up until they drop, despite the protests of their roommates and the campus doctors. UChicago students are what some might call unhealthily dedicated, and the ones who stick around to take extra classes during the summer session even more so.
"Well, I don't want you slacking off just because the teacher's out, you hear? I'm still paying for that session."
"No slacking, got it."
"Your sister's standing here making faces. You want him, Alma? Oh, now she's shooing me out of the room, what have you got to say to your brother that I can't hear? Okay, Preston, here's Alma -"
"Tonito!"
"Mocosco. What're you doing here, aren't you supposed to be at the hospital with your mom?"
"We're taking turns now. I had a date, but it got cancelled."
Preston wonders if it's the bad connection that makes her sound as if she's losing her voice. Hopes it is. "Tell Tomas that if he stands you up again, your big scary brother's gonna beat him up when he gets home, no joke."
"He didn't stand me up, he's sick. Anyways, it's not like that'd work, Preston, he's seen you."
"Ha ha. Listen, Alma, you feeling all right?"
"I'm fine." It's the weary tone of someone who's been asked that question more than once in the past twenty-four hours. "You're just like Dad, stop worrying. Speaking of, he wants the phone back -"
"- Preston, it's Dad again."
"Really, 'cause if you hadn't told me, I'd never have been able to tell you from Alma. Look - is she okay?"
A pause. "Why wouldn't she be okay?"
"Dad, I'm serious. If something's wrong, you tell me, all right?"
"Si, anything happens, you'll hear. Go concentrate on your studies. We're all going to be fine."
"Right," Preston says; tries to make it sound like he believes it. "Give my love to Connie and Kit and 'Lena."
"Will do." It's quiet for a moment; he's about to hang up, when he hears his father again, sounding tired all of a sudden, sounding old: "Don't wait until next Sunday to call, all right?"
"I won't. Love you, Dad."
"Love you, Tonito."
He hears the click of the call ending, and stands, holding his cell phone, for a long time. He'll call Wednesday, or maybe Tuesday; if he calls tomorrow, his father will just tell him not to worry, to go back to his studies.
Maybe he'll call Tuesday.
On Tuesday, August 6, the phone lines go down. They don't go back up.