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by Marc Simon
When the telephone woke Alyse at 3:21 a.m., she automatically assumed it was her mother calling to tell her that her grandmother had died. She felt tears begin to well up as she groped for the receiver. "Is it Nana, Mom?" she asked. "Mom?"
A pleasant mechanical female voice replied, "I have a collect call for Alyse from Stuart Mulberry...will you accept the charges?"
Alyse jerked the receiver away from her ear. She pulled the comforter tight to her chest. "Will you accept the charges, miss?" the female voice repeated.
"Is this some kind of a joke, operator?" Alyse asked, her voice shaky but angry. "This isn't funny, this is sick."
Then she heard a second voice. "Alyse? Hi...uh, I know you're probably a little shook up right now, but could you please, uh, accept the charges?"
There was no doubt about it. It was his voice. Alyse slapped herself sharply on both cheeks, to make sure she was awake.
"Will you accept the charges?" the female voice asked again.
"Alyse," the other voice interrupted, "I can explain."
Alyse felt the remains of the shrimp scampi she'd had for dinner rise up in her throat. Her bladder clenched. Because, in fact, Stuart Mulberry, her ex-boyfriend, was dead. He had drowned two weeks ago in his hot tub.
"Miss?"
"Wait!" Alyse took a gulp of tepid water from the glass on her night table. She switched on the reading lamp. You have a lot of explaining to do, whoever you are, she thought to herself. She swallowed hard and said, "O.K., I'll accept."
"Thank you, go ahead, sir," the female voice intoned and clicked off.
"Alyse?...uh, hi, how are you doing?"
"Who in God's name is this?"
"It's Stuart."
"Whoever the hell you are, you are so warped, and calling me at 3:23 in the goddamn morning is so lame, it's not even funny."
"Is it 3:23? Sorry for calling so late, or so early, but it's hard to tell what time it is around here. Please don't hang up."
Alyse pulled her hand back from the receiver button. Whoever this was, his imitation of Stuart's voice was uncanny. "Alyse," the voice continued, "I know this seems unreal to you, me being dead and all, but if I told you something only I would know, I mean Stuart would know, then you'd have to believe me, right?"
"Yeah...no, wait," Alyse said, "Maybe you know some obscure fact about Stuart already."
"Yeah, you're right, I'll do something else, O.K.?"
Alyse sat bolt upright as she felt an icy hand rub circles up and down her back. "Alyse, did you feel that? I hope it didn't scare you. You're still there, right? I could do it again."
"No, don't do it again, I'm O.K...I mean I'm not O.K. but I'm O.K."
"So you're O.K."
Alyse took another sip of water. "God, this water sucks. Stuart?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you really dead?"
"Yeah."
"And I'm not dreaming, am I?"
"No, you're not. But before I called you were dreaming about being late for the closing on a house you're buying."
"How did you know that?"
"I don't know, I just do."
"Anyway I'm not buying a house, Stuart."
"I know."
"I can barely afford this apartment." Alyse hit the on-button of her radio and heard Tracy Chapman singing "There's fiction in the space between you and me." She turned down the volume.
"Stuart," she asked, "Why have you called me?"
"Well, I didn't want to come to you in person because it might freak you out."
"Why? Are you all gruesome?"
"Well, for one thing, when you're dead, you don't wear clothes, and I didn't want to show up naked, that'd be like, too creepy, so I figured I'd just call. Plus I don't have any money, which is why I called you collect from here."
" From where? Where are you?"
"I don't know exactly, but I do know that this is not the place I want to be forever. See, I want my final destination to be heaven."
"Stuart, is this going to take a while?" Alyse sat up cross-legged on the bed.
"Well..."
"Do you mind if I do my toenails while we talk?"
"What? No, go ahead."
"Thanks...so..."
"So...here's the thing. I can get to heaven only if at least 50% of the people I knew when I was alive liked me. At least 50%."
"Where'd they get that rule?"
"I don't know, it's just the rule. And they're thinking of raising it to 65%. They say they want likable people in heaven."
"Nobody's going to believe this."
"I know, and you know, not everybody has the same rule. Some people, well, they get in automatically. Like I heard when Babe Ruth died, he went straight to heaven."
"Probably Mother Theresa, too, right?"
"Oh, you'd be surprised, it wasn't that easy for her."
"But she's in, right?"
"Yes, she's in."
"I mean what kind of a place is heaven if they don't let Mother Theresa in."
"Alyse, I have to ask you something."
"Wait, I have to switch feet." Alyse put the receiver down. She stuffed little wads of cotton between the toes on her left foot and added more polish to the brush. "Stuart?"
"I'm still here."
"Well, as long as I have you on the phone, I've been wondering, were you drunk the night you drowned?"
"I'd had a couple of beers, three or four maybe, but I wouldn't say drunk."
"Four beers?
"Well, over the course of the evening, spaced out. It's not like I pounded them down or anything."
"Stuart, were you concealing some kind of drinking or drug problem from me? It's very interesting that I find this out now."
"Alyse, my drinking was under control."
"Because if you did have a problem you could have talked to me about it."
"Well..."
"You weren't always the easiest person to read, Stuart. You and your moods. Frankly, half the time I didn't know what you were thinking."
"I guess that was my fault. Sorry."
"How can you have a relationship if you're not open with each other, if you don't talk about things?"
"I know. You're right."
"Learn to listen."
"Alyse, I..."
"Look, I'm not saying it's all your fault. God knows I'm not always the easiest person to get along with, I'll admit it.
"Don't blame yourself, Alyse."
"I'd hate to think I drove you to suicide. God, I don't need that kind of guilt."
"Alyse, it was an accident, O.K.?"
Alyse held the receiver between her neck and shoulder as she screwed the little brush back into the bottle. She picked up a Cosmopolitan from her night table and began to fan her toes. "I find it very interesting that it took your death for us to finally start talking. Very interesting."
"Alyse, please, I didn't call you up to get into another argument."
"I would hope not. After all."
"I just want to know-I need to know-did you like me?"
"Stuart, we went together for two years."
"Yeah, but did you..."
"You know, I have to say, as long as we're talking, that it was such a stupid way to die, Stuart, drowning alone in your hot tub. Are you sure you weren't drunk? God, you should hear the jokes."
"What jokes?"
There was a beeping in her ear. "Stuart, can you hold on a minute. I've got another call coming in." She pressed the receiver button. "Hello?"
A pleasant mechanical female voice said, "I have a collect call from Nana. Will you accept the charges?"
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