The Phone Call by Val Tobin

The Phone Call

by Val Tobin

Hunched into a crouch, Dylan shoved the kayak off the dock and into the water and then tilted back on his heels to catch his breath. The simple act of lugging the craft down the rocks and to the water had sapped what little energy he had. His muscles were still weak, his limbs scrawny. He lifted the suede cowboy hat off his head and ran his fingers through the gray-flecked mahogany curls. Odd how his hair had grown back soft and curly after it had fallen out. Maddie, his wife, insisted it was sexy. Dylan agreed and checked himself out in mirrors and shiny surfaces whenever he passed by them. Secretly, he loved how young it made him look—not that fifty -five was that old. Still, if people mistook him for forty-five, he wouldn’t complain.

He unfolded to his full six feet and scanned the lake. The mist had started to burn off already as the sun speared through the clouds over the eastern horizon. His target destination, the small island in the middle of the lake, looked farther than it had before. Only perception, he told himself. Fatigue always distorted perception. The challenge, to most people, would be easy enough: paddle out to the island, explore it, and return to the dock. For Dylan, it was the day’s major goal. Ever since his doctors had told him his cancer was in remission, he’d set increasingly challenging tasks for himself. Today, he planned to paddle to the island if it took him until sunrise tomorrow. One day, hopefully soon, he’d return to his job at the factory, back to the assembly line, the piecework. It wasn’t what he’d dreamed of doing with his life, but it paid the bills and the people there were decent. After spending most of his days in the hospital, he’d welcome the return to manual labour and ordinary problems.

He glanced up toward the cabin. Nothing moved. Good. If Maddie caught him here alone, she’d fuss and coo over him as if he were a baby learning to walk. He scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin and grinned at how he’d had to skip his morning shave in fear of waking her. She needn’t worry—he wasn’t a fool. He’d worn his life jacket. Dylan gripped the kayak and slid into it. Lifting the paddle off the dock, he shoved off. With a deep breath in, he reveled in the early morning air and headed for the island. He rested often as he crossed, but he used these respites as an opportunity to check out the local wildlife—such as it was out on the water. He spotted fish in the lake and a loon drifting along the surface. It dove under the water, likely chasing those fish. A hoarse, barking croak sounded across the lake, and Dylan at first thought a dog might be in trouble. Then a great blue heron launched itself into the sky. Dylan followed its flight until it vanished into the trees on the distant shore.

It wasn’t until after the giant bird had disappeared that Dylan remembered he should have taken a picture with his phone. Perhaps he’d get the opportunity on his voyage home.

He reached the island after an hour of paddling. Once again, he rested before climbing from the kayak and dragging it up onto the tiny beach. The sun was well up now, and sweat trickled from under his hat all around his hairline. He removed his life jacket and set it on the kayak’s seat. Next he removed his hat and shirt, but put them on again when the bugs swarmed him. Large flies that bit. Maybe horse flies, maybe deer flies, Dylan wasn’t sure, but whatever they were, they annoyed him. Part of his mission was to have his morning coffee on the rocks overlooking the lake, so he retrieved the thermos he’d brought and poured. His first sip went down like honeyed milk from heaven. Dylan sipped until the first cupful was gone. He recapped the thermos, saving the rest for later.

Time to explore the island. His cell phone rang then, and of course the call display showed Maddie. He answered on the second ring with a cheerful “Hey, honey.” “Don’t you ‘hey honey’ me. Where are you?” More worry than anger filled her voice, which made him sound apologetic and guilty when he replied. “I went for a paddle.” “What do you mean?” “I took the kayak out.” What else could that mean? “You”—she heaved in a sigh—“Why? Where? You can’t. You shouldn’t.” “I’m fine. Just across the lake on the island. Nothing will happen. I’m having a thermos of coffee, a little stroll, and coming right back.” “But you didn’t even leave me a note.” “Well, you could call me if you needed me.” Now anger crept into her voice. “What if something happened and you couldn’t answer the phone?” “You worry too much. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.” In the end, she accepted he needed to do this— for himself, but not out of selfishness. He’d been sick for so long, in bed for so long, he needed to return to life again. This challenge was one way to show the cancer it hadn’t licked him. He’d beaten it, but he wasn’t satisfied with simply beating it. He had to get his life back. His vigor. Before he disconnected the call, he said, “You understand, don’t you, Maddie?” “Yes.” Her tone held reluctance, and he figured if their roles were reversed he’d react the same way. It was all for love. “But if you don’t come home at a decent time, I’m coming to get you.” “I love you,” he said. “I love you, too, you damn fool,” she replied, and he smiled. It was their routine whenever they argued and made up. Sometimes she was the damn fool.

Time to explore the island and head home, triumphant. Dylan inhaled, drawing in as much energizing fresh air as his lungs could stand, blowing it out again slowly. With deliberate steps, he picked his way along the shore, following the circumference of the island. The beach was brown sand interspersed with large boulders and small stones, and he took care to place each step carefully. He allowed himself an hour of exploring the island and its smattering of evergreen trees, bushes, scrub, and rocks. Birds made nests in the trees here, and he watched them flit from tree to tree, though he couldn’t identify them. They were small, wrens, maybe. Or finches? When he went home, he’d look it up in a book. He should pay more attention to what surrounded him, learn more about nature. The rain hit all at once. One moment, it was bright and sunny, and the next, it grew dark as twilight and rain teemed down. The wind lashed the trees, and thunder rumbled in the distance, pounding Dylan’s heart. So much for the stupid weather app, which had told him it would be

sunny today with a chance of showers. Did this look like showers to them? It was more like a hurricane. He could hear the waves roiling and pounding the shoreline. Maddie would be terrified, so he pulled out his phone to call her and assure her he’d be fine. The call dropped, and he couldn’t get through. The kayak!He ran, trying not to lose his footing on the slick rocks, but by the time he reached the shore, it already bobbed out of reach in the waves, carrying his lifejacket with it. He waded in, frantic to grab it before it capsized. ***

“Mom?” Libby stuck her head into her mother’s bedroom. “Are you awake?” She spoke in a low voice in case her mother was asleep, but hoped Maddie was awake. Just don’t let her be dead. Not now. Not yet.

Maddie was dying, and she didn’t need to see her daughter falling apart. But Libby had already lost Dylan, her dad, twenty years ago. She didn’t want to face the loss of her mother, too. Yet some things you couldn’t control, and Libby had to accept that, like it or not. It had all been so sudden. Maddie’s diabetes and heart problems slowly ran her down. Then the cancer had struck, and after battling it for weeks, this was the end. Libby took a leave of absence from work to care for her mother, but from the look of it, she wouldn’t be away from work for long. After only three days, Libby could tell Mom was slipping away quickly. To Libby’s relief, Maddie answered, her voice a soft croak. “I’m up.” Libby padded into the room and sat on the edge of her mother’s bed. She put a cool hand on Maddie’s warm, frail arm. “How’re you doing? Get any sleep?” Libby frowned, letting the worry show through for a moment before getting control of it and replacing it with a fake smile. “He’ll call today. This time, he’ll talk to me.” “Yes, Mom.” Libby didn’t ask who her mother meant. Today was the anniversary of Dylan’s death. He’d perished in a violent storm on an island near the family cottage. Every year since then, Maddie insisted her phone would ring at the time he’d died, but when she answered it, no one was on the other end.

Libby had been present once or twice when this happened. Nothing showed on the call display, and she wrote it off as a glitch combined with her mother’s wishful thinking. “I’m making tea. Would you like me to bring you a cup?” “Yes, please.” Her mother smiled, but it twisted into a grimace of pain. “Can I adjust your pillows for you?” Libby stood and leaned over her mother. “No. Just put my phone beside my hand where I can reach it.” “Mom, you know I don’t like to leave it in your bed. What if you fall asleep?” “So what? What’ll happen? It’ll give me cancer?” She laughed, and that turned into a hacking cough. Every request from her mother was like a dying wish, so Libby complied. “I’ll go make that tea. You call if you need me. I’ll listen for you on the monitor.”

“Like a baby you treat me.” Libby sighed. “The monitor’s convenient. That way you don’t have to text me or phone me.” And Mom was too weak to shout for help, a fact Libby didn’t point out. She left the room, heading for the kitchen.

The moment Libby disappeared, Maddie’s phone vibrated. She picked it up and pressed it to her ear. “Dylan?” she whispered. She knew it was him. It was time he spoke to her. She’d hear him this time for sure, and she did, just as she knew she would.

“Maddie.” She answered, keeping her tone hushed. “You left me.”

The years without him had been so long, so interminable. Sure, she’d had the kids, the grandkids, but she’d lost her soul mate. At first she’d thought she couldn’t live without him. When she discovered life went on regardless, and she’d survive the loss, she carried on, but with a void in her heart. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. But I’ve waited for you. It’s sunny here. Will you come?” “You know I will. The kids will understand. They know I’ve got to go.” She sighed, and it was heavy with pain and exhaustion. His voice gave her peace and filled the void in her heart with a longing that was as fresh as the day he’d died. “Let go, Maddie. Let go and come to me.” Maddie closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she found herself on the rocky shores of the island where the search and rescue team had discovered Dylan’s body. He’d slipped and fallen, his ankle twisting and catching in the rocks. Unable to pull himself from the water, he’d drowned as the storm raged around him. “Why here?” she asked him. “Well, it was my challenge, and I failed. When I spoke to you before the storm hit, you promised you’d come get me if I didn’t come home.” He took her hand, and it felt solid and warm. She looked him up and down. “I’m old, Dylan, and you haven’t changed a bit. Why, you look even younger than when I last saw you. Strong.

As if you’d never even gotten sick.” She couldn’t wait to touch more of him, so she put her arms around him. “Ah, you’re but a young slip of thing now.” He chuckled. She pulled away from him and looked down at her clothes. The skirt she wore was one she’d owned forty years before. It was short, and the top she had on barely covered her belly button. Her legs were young and shapely. On her feet were sandals, and her toes were painted a bright pink. “Are we staying here?” She drew his face down to hers, kissed him on the nose, and laughed because she could laugh now without coughing and choking. “We’re going wherever we want. Let’s walk a bit before we take that final journey. I want to show you the woodpecker. He’s in the tree right now. I love you, Maddie.” “I love you, too. You damn fool.”

He looked down at her and tweaked her nose. “Me? What did I do?” “Nothing this time. I missed telling you, is all.” They linked arms and walked away from the shore as if they were fit and spry, because they were. “Tea’s ready, Mom.” Libby entered her mother’s room and set the cup and saucer on the night table. For a moment, she thought her mother had fallen asleep again. She never stayed awake for long. The phone was on the floor by the bed, where it had fallen when the hand holding it had dropped to the covers. She stooped to pick it up and noticed the radiant smile on her mother’s lips. Libby choked on a sob and snatched her own phone from the holster on her hip. She called her brother, the phone trembling in her hand. Now that it’d actually happened, she took charge. Libby needed to take charge. “Hey, Lib. How’s Mom?” Her heart squeezed. It took all her effort of will to keep her voice from breaking and the sobs from escaping.

“I’m sorry, Dave. She passed.” She looked down at her mother’s peaceful face and stroked her mother’s arm. “She’s with Dad now.” As Libby stepped away from the bed, her foot knocked the phone on the floor. “I think he finally got through,” she said.

Val Tobin writes speculative fiction and searches the world over for the perfect butter tart. Her home is in Newmarket, Ontario, where she enjoys writing, reading, and talking about writing and reading. Discover more about Val on

Mom’s Favorite Reads website: https://moms-favorite-reads.com/moms-authors/val-tobin