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Phone Call
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by Denisse
“Brinngggg! Brinngggg!” “Out of area” reads the caller ID. It’s my brother. I stretch my arm to reach the phone on the corner of my desk, my fingers curl around the phone ready to answer but my thumb stays on the “ON” button. I hesitate, then yell. “Mom! It’s Edi calling!” My mom sprints to the nearest phone like a running back diving for a football five yards from the end zone. “¡Edi! ¿Cómo estás hijito?” I hear my mom say. I turn back to my homework and open my Human Anatomy book. How many bones make up the human spine? reads the first question on my homework assignment. I turn to the first chapter to find the answer. My book begins to vibrate to the tune of my mother’s footsteps pacing back and fourth down the hallway. I feel guilty for not picking up the phone. Should I have answered? Faster than I can formulate one more thought, I turn back to my Anatomy book and focus on my homework. Aha! Found it! I begin to count, there are… 1, 2, 3,... 7 cervical… ummm... 12 thoracic and… ummm... 4.. no 5 lumbar vertebrae in the human spine! “¿Y cómo sigue tu novia?” My mom’s voice interrupts, leaking through the paper-thin walls of our small apartment. I put on my headphones to drown her conversation. Thump, thump, thump, continues my mother’s footsteps around the apartment for the next hour. Question 15. Which bones make up the human hand? “¡Qué Dios te bendiga, hijito, cuidate mucho!” My mother’s voice startles me, she taps me on the shoulder and asks, “¿Quiéres hablar con tu hermano?” No not really. What am I supposed to say? Hey brother, how’s life in Mexico, are you still miserable? Does the power still go off in your house? Do you have running water yet? “Of course mom,” I lie.
“Hey Denisse, how’s it going?” my brother asks. Hearing my brother’s voice takes me back to winter break my senior year of high school, it was the last time we went out together, about 6 years ago. My brother had heard about the movie The Pursuit of Happiness and wanted to go take my sister and I to watch it. I remember feeling so special that I was going out with my big brother and big sister, it’s the same feeling I got when I was 6 years old and I’d straddle on the pegs of my brother’s lime-green bike and we’d speed a few blocks away from our apartment to buy hot Cheetos at 7-11.
“Hey Edi, I’m doing well,” I respond. “Have you started school yet school yet?” “Yup. First week.” “Are you still waitressing at TGI Friday’s?” “No. Didn’t mom tell you? I got a job in school. It’s pretty cool. I work in a research lab” “…Ahhhh. Can they hire you when you’re done with school?” I sigh, and respond in a low voice, “I don’t know.” We gossip about family in Mexico. Then there’s a long pause. “So, when are you getting married?” I ask nervously. “Do you have a date set yet?” He tells me they’re planning on a wintertime wedding in Playa de Carmen, a beach he and his girlfriend visited over the summer. As he talks, I see my brother standing in a black satin tuxedo at the end of a long aisle adorned with extravagant flower arrangements and sprinkled with white rose pedals. The air smells of baby breath, gardenias, and new beginnings. I can hear the ocean waves splashing against the shore leaving its wet footprint on the soft warm sand as if it were welcoming the bride. My brother turns around to look at his bride. His smile is a big as the milky moon that lights up the sky. I see myself standing in a glass house overlooking the beach. I am staring at my brother. He cannot see me. No one can.
“What do you think?” asks my brother earnestly. I tell him it’s a great idea, but the guilt comes rushing through my heart like the ocean waves that greet my brother’s wedding. I’m sorry brother. I’m so sorry that I will not be there at your wedding. I’m sorry that I may not see you have kids. I’m scared that years will go by and we will not be a part of each others' lives. I’m scared that the next time I see you, you will have grey hair and a big saggy belly. Your cheeks will look like two stretched coin purses worn out from years of use. And your hands will have a cobweb of veins. Will you look like DAD when I see you next? Well I’ve got to get back to my homework, I tell my brother. I wish I could tell him how much I miss him, and how scared I am. But instead, I end our conversation with: alright, talk to you later, bye! Then I hang up the phone. I sit still for a moment, take a deep breath and get back to my homework …27 bones make up the human hand… 8 carpals, 5 metacarpals, and 14 phalanges.
“Hey Denisse, how’s it going?” my brother asks. Hearing my brother’s voice takes me back to winter break my senior year of high school, it was the last time we went out together, about 6 years ago. My brother had heard about the movie The Pursuit of Happiness and wanted to go take my sister and I to watch it. I remember feeling so special that I was going out with my big brother and big sister, it’s the same feeling I got when I was 6 years old and I’d straddle on the pegs of my brother’s lime-green bike and we’d speed a few blocks away from our apartment to buy hot Cheetos at 7-11.
“Hey Edi, I’m doing well,” I respond. “Have you started school yet school yet?” “Yup. First week.” “Are you still waitressing at TGI Friday’s?” “No. Didn’t mom tell you? I got a job in school. It’s pretty cool. I work in a research lab” “…Ahhhh. Can they hire you when you’re done with school?” I sigh, and respond in a low voice, “I don’t know.” We gossip about family in Mexico. Then there’s a long pause. “So, when are you getting married?” I ask nervously. “Do you have a date set yet?” He tells me they’re planning on a wintertime wedding in Playa de Carmen, a beach he and his girlfriend visited over the summer. As he talks, I see my brother standing in a black satin tuxedo at the end of a long aisle adorned with extravagant flower arrangements and sprinkled with white rose pedals. The air smells of baby breath, gardenias, and new beginnings. I can hear the ocean waves splashing against the shore leaving its wet footprint on the soft warm sand as if it were welcoming the bride. My brother turns around to look at his bride. His smile is a big as the milky moon that lights up the sky. I see myself standing in a glass house overlooking the beach. I am staring at my brother. He cannot see me. No one can.
“What do you think?” asks my brother earnestly. I tell him it’s a great idea, but the guilt comes rushing through my heart like the ocean waves that greet my brother’s wedding. I’m sorry brother. I’m so sorry that I will not be there at your wedding. I’m sorry that I may not see you have kids. I’m scared that years will go by and we will not be a part of each others' lives. I’m scared that the next time I see you, you will have grey hair and a big saggy belly. Your cheeks will look like two stretched coin purses worn out from years of use. And your hands will have a cobweb of veins. Will you look like DAD when I see you next? Well I’ve got to get back to my homework, I tell my brother. I wish I could tell him how much I miss him, and how scared I am. But instead, I end our conversation with: alright, talk to you later, bye! Then I hang up the phone. I sit still for a moment, take a deep breath and get back to my homework …27 bones make up the human hand… 8 carpals, 5 metacarpals, and 14 phalanges.
