“Happy New Year, Pookie!” June looked at the phone in her hand and at the text message from a familiar number; yet it was no longer stored in her contact list. Althought she’d deleted the number from her phone, it was forever stored in the memory bank of her hippocampus.
June felt her heart rate escalated, even though she hadn’t exerted any physical energy. She was not sure if the thumping of her heart against its cage was from excitement or fear. She was puzzled because no one else called her, Pookie. How could this be? The 10 digits she’d called so many times, eyed her like an omen. “Is someone playing a prank on me?” she asked aloud.
The text message came from Gregory’s phone number. However, he had been gone from June’s life months ago. Her head felt strange as a tingled sensation shook her body to a quiver. Why was this message sent to her, today of all the other days? Probably someone else had obtained his phone number. Perhaps this message was not intended for her?
June was at the point in her life, where she had mourned and accepted his absence from her. It was a difficult process, but she managed to heal, somewhat. This message ironed the crumpled scared tissues around her heart.
June and Gregory had been married for five years, together for seven for effect. Throughout those years, they created a New Year tradition to send each other well wishes for the year. Those four words materialized as a surprise to her. She leaned her head to the side and stared at the legs of the dresser, puzzled as if rewinding her biography for a clue.
With shaking hands, she called the number. Without ringing, a recorded robotic voice echoed in her ear. “The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. Please check the number and dial again.”
Jane’s mouth quivered at the corners. Her legs simultaneously buckled which caused her to slump on the side of her bed. Tears rolled down her cheeks and pooled in the crevices of her collarbones. This was a sign. How else could she explain to anyone such phenomena. She quickly screen shot the message and emailed it to herself for proof, in case it disappeared from her phone.
June opened the drawer and Gregory’s cell phone was there. The screen black from lack of power. She picked it up and it was cool to the touch, but this soothed her heart to a slower rhythm. Upon pressing the power on button, the screen light flicked on and a picture of her and Gregory appeared on screen. She gasped with wide eyes. It was a picture of them in Jamaica on their last vacation together. The sunset so romantic behind their silhouette bodies. And just like the sunset, the light from the phone slowly dimmed as the life fade away from its battery.
June gracefully reclined her head on the fluffy pillows of the freshly made bed and wept. You see, Gregory died months ago from CHF – congestive heart failure. She looked aroud the room for more proof of his presence. He collapsed in that very room and was rushed to the hospital where he subsequently died with her by his side holding his hand. Was he communicating with her now?
This brought June more confidence to declare that it was truly a sign that life do exist beyond the grave. Feeling at peace and filled with happiness, she typed back, “You too, Big Daddy,” and pressed send.