Waiting On the Ghosts

The little boy sat alone at the top of the basement stairs, staring down into the darkness below. The dripping of the faucet in the small kitchen and the barking of the dog in the garage were his only companions. As he sat there, he heard sounds in the living room. The television blared loudly with the bells and wild applause of the Price is Right, and the voice of his Mother as it echoed around the corner. She was having her daily conversations with the air. The little boy wondered why she talked to the air, and wondered if the other kids’ parents did the same.

He sat there at the top of the stairs, and looked down into the darkness, wondering what was down there. What strange beasts and creatures lurked there when the lights were off? He looked up at the light switch, wishing he could turn it on but it was too far away. It was too high for his little hands to reach.

As such, he sat there and waited. If he didn’t, Mommy would be mad.

Normally the basement was a place of refuge and safety when Daddy was home and the lights were on. The boy would sit with his father by the wood burning stove and watch the logs crack and pop as the flames consumed them. His father would pass the time by whittling a piece of wood with his knife. The little boy would stoke the fire or play with his toys or do one of a hundred other things.

But today was about waiting and listening.

And then it happened.

The phone in the basement rang.

The little boy sprang into action. He ran into the front room and breathlessly said "Mama… the phone’s a ringin’ mama.."

It took a moment or two before he got his Mother’s attention. It was rude to interrupt one having a conversation after all. After an achingly long time she looked at him, finally comprehending what the little boy had been repeatedly telling her. She said "Well plug the phone in then. Hurry!"

The boy scrambled behind the couch on his hands and knees. He looked at the plug for the old rotary phone and tried to fit it into the wall. The plug was oddly shaped, with three blades each turned in different directions. He screwed up his face in concentration as his little hands tried to match up the blades with the holes in the outlet and push the plug into the wall. All the while his mother was screaming at him to plug the phone in as she was expecting Daddy to call.

Frightened, the boy managed to get the plug into the wall and the phone screamed to life. His mother lunged for the phone and answered it with a sickly sweet "Hello…"

The little boy sat there and watched as his Mother talked to Daddy.

Yes, everything was fine.

Yes, both were doing well.

He was playing and she was watching TV.

Yes yes.

I love you too.

Bye bye now. See you tonight.

His mother hung up the phone and looked down at him coolly. Knowing what to do, he once again crawled behind the couch and pulled the plug out of the wall and sat it on the carpet. He carefully laid it there so he could remember how it was supposed to fit into the wall next time Daddy or someone else called.

He crawled back out onto the carpet and tried to watch TV.

"No, you need to go wait for the phone to ring."

"But Mama… why cain’t I leave this one plugged in?"

"Because then they can come and get me. You need to keep that phone unplugged and go listen for the other one at the top of the stairs."

"Who’s they Mama?"

"The ghosts. They’ll come through the phone and get me. Now get back out there and listen for that phone in case someone else calls."

The little boy made his way back out to the kitchen and once again sat at the top of the stairs. Wild thoughts ran through his head as to how ghosts could come through the phone. If they could come through the one in the living room, what was to keep them from coming through the one in the basement?

He sat again on the top step and stared into the darkness below. His only company once again was the dripping faucet and the dog in the garage. He sat and stared, ears straining, again waiting for the phone to ring.

And hoping, ever hoping that the ghosts wouldn’t come to get him today.

-End-