Love Trumps All

Love Trumps All

Ruth waited patiently for the phone to ring. She knew it wouldn’t ring for another hour and thirty minutes, but there was nothing in the world that would stop her from answering the phone. It would be a special phone call, her phone call.

            She was waiting to hear from her dead husband.

            “Mom, why don’t you do something to keep yourself busy?”

            “And what if I miss the phone? I would never forgive myself if that happened.”

            “You know when it’s going to ring. Do something until then. It can’t be good for you waiting by the phone for hours on end.”

            Ruth frowned at her daughter. She meant well, but she didn’t understand. “I’m fine just waiting here, Kathryn. If you want to do something you can, but I’m going to sit here until my dear Donald calls me.”

            “Okay. I’m going to get something to drink from the kitchen. Do you want anything?”

            “No, thank you.”

            The plastic covering on the couch squeaked as Kathryn stood up and made her way to the kitchen. Ruth stared at the basic red phone she and Donald had purchased years ago on one of their monthly garage sale ventures. It was a simple phone, with the receiver cradled on top and the buttons directly in the middle below. She didn’t need any of those fancy phones. Kathryn tried to get them once as a present a while back, but there were so many different features— the voicemail, caller ID, and speaker phone were confusing, and having a mute button made no sense—it made her head hurt. Donald couldn’t even make a single phone call. So they went back to the old, reliable red one, the one that was easy to use.

            “Have you thought about what you’re going to say to Dad?” Kathryn asked, returning with a glass of water and a book.

            She had thought about what she was going to say to Donald. It was all she’d been thinking about for the past few days. So many different conversations had played out in her head. She wanted to tell him so many things she never had the chance to do while he was alive, but she knew the call would end after thirty-seconds. What was she going to say? She wasn’t exactly sure, except for one thing. She would make sure to tell him one last time that she loved him and will forever love him.

            “Yes,” she told her daughter, “I’m going to say how much I love him and miss him. The only thing I really care about, though, is hearing his voice one last time.”

            “I wish you had that phone I bought you, that way you could put him on speaker phone.” Kathryn wiped away some tears that were forming in her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything. I just miss him.”

            “I know, sweetie. It’s okay.”

            The past week had been rough, for both of them. Ruth had been married for sixty-eight beautiful years to Donald Matsen until his passing. She had known him for most of her life, but not her whole life. Kathryn had known him her whole life. Ruth knew what it was like to lose a father, and she would not want to relive that.

            “Here,” she said, “have a tissue.”

            “Thanks, Mom.” Kathryn grabbed a tissue from the box that was offered to her. “If you don’t mind, I think I might read while you wait for Dad’s phone call.”

            “Not at all. Don’t mind me at all, you go and do whatever you want.”

            “You sure you don’t want anything to do? To keep your mind busy while waiting?”

            “I’m fine just waiting here, sweetheart. I have my thoughts and memories to keep me busy.”

            “Okay, well, you let me know if you need anything.”

            “Thank you, Kathryn.”

            Ruth turned her attention back to the phone, not that she ever took her whole attention off it in the first place. It wouldn’t be too much longer until she could talk to Donald again. The thought of it made her feel warm inside. She wasn’t a religious person, but she was happy the universe gave people the opportunity to talk to loved ones one last time. When the worldwide phenomenon was first reported five years ago, she and her husband could hardly believe the news.

#

            “Honey, get in here. You have to see this.”

            “What is it, Donny?” Ruth walked into the living room after preparing both of them some tea.

            “It’s all over the news. Here, let me rewind it for you.” Donald fumbled with the remote. “Ah, shoot. How does this thing work again?”

            Although the Matsens favored more simple technology, having a new television that could record at the push of a button, and rewind and fast forward just as easily, was Donald’s guilty pleasure. After receiving it as a Christmas present from their daughter—she was always trying to get them to try new and confusing products, like a computer and the internet—and after getting a lesson on how to use it by Jim, Kathryn’s husband, sitting in front of the TV became his favorite spot. He would record all of his favorite programs, which were usually found on the History Channel or the National Geographic Channel, and then watch them at his leisure. His favorite part was fast-forwarding through all of the commercials.

            “Aha! Got it. Here, watch this.”

            What popped on the screen next was a local news program, with an anchorwoman Ruth recognized as one of her friends’ daughters. The blonde woman with too much makeup on was reporting strange occurrences that were involving people who had recently passed away. Something about people getting phone calls from people they knew who had died a week before. It was too confusing, and impossible sounding, for her to understand.

            “I don’t get it, Donald,” she told him. “What’s going on? Is this some sort of joke?”

            “Apparently not. It’s being reporting from all over the world. People who died a week ago are calling people they knew who are still alive.”

            “How is that possible? It has to be some sort of cruel joke.”

            “It’s not,” he insisted. “No one is sure how, or why, it’s happening. But it’s happening. This is unbelievable.”

            “I don’t believe it.”

            “Well, sit down and watch.” He patted the empty seat on the couch next to him.

            She was reluctant at first, thinking her husband was trying to play a prank on her. He wasn’t the fooling type, though. “Okay, fine.”

            The two of them watched the television for several more hours that night, amazed at what they were seeing and hearing. Eyewitnesses were coming in by the dozens about getting phone calls from people who should be dead. The deceased would never—or couldn’t, no one was sure which—discuss the afterlife or events of the future. The person who had died would almost always contact someone they knew while living, but it wasn’t always the case. Some people were describing calls from people they didn’t know, some from people speaking a different language.

            It was all too surreal for Ruth, and she discussed it further in length with Donald while getting ready for bed that night.

            “So, what do you think about all of this hoopla?” she queried while they were both dressing into their nightwear.

            “I think it’s great. Why, don’t you?”

            “I’m not exactly sure how to feel about it yet. It’s weird. Why would dead people be calling the living?”

            “I don’t know. In most of the instances it sounds like they just wanted to tell a loved one how much they care about them.”

            “But how is this happening? What is allowing this to happen?”

            Donald looked at her and shrugged before getting into bed. “God? Aliens? Some other higher power? You know I’m not a religious person, but if this is truly real, then it could be anything. Maybe humans have evolved to live even after death. Like a soul, or leftover energy of a person’s conscience. Or it could be none of that and could reasonably be explained through the laws of science. Maybe a person’s brainwaves stay around for a while after death, and before finally disappearing, they want to contact someone one last time.”

            Ruth just looked at her husband. She wasn’t really into the whole science thing, so a lot about what he was talking about went over her head. But she knew her husband was smart, so she figured any of those answers could be right.

            “I really don’t know, though,” he finally said. “And I don’t think we ever will know until we die.”

            “Well, if it is true,” she said, climbing in to bed to join her husband, “then I’m glad people get the chance to say goodbye one last time. It’s a nice gesture from the universe.”

            He smiled at her. “I agree.” He kissed her goodnight and they went to sleep while the rest of the world continued to get calls from the dead.

#

            The phone ringing brought Ruth back to the present. Chills swept through her body thinking it was her late Donald, but then she realized the ringing wasn’t coming from her phone.

            “Oh, my God,” Kathryn said, pulling out the ringing cell phone from her pants pocket. “I am so sorry. I thought I had silenced this.” Her daughter looked at the phone, muted it, put it back in her pants, and then went back to reading her novel.

            “It’s okay. I was a little worried at first. There’s still a little bit of time before he calls.” Ruth had calculated the exact time of when the phone call should come. The dead always contacted the living exactly one week after their death, one hundred sixty-eight hours after their passing. According to her watch, the one Donald had given her for their twenty-fifth anniversary, she still had another forty-five minutes before the phone call would come.

            “You’re sure he’s going to call?” Kathryn asked, raising her head from the book she was reading. “I mean, I would hate it if he didn’t call. You know, sometimes people expect a loved one to call and then they never do. Or they end up calling someone else instead.”

            “He’ll call,” Ruth assured her daughter.

            “I don’t want you to get your hopes up and then—“

            “Your father is going to call,” she said, cutting Kathryn off. “He told me he would call. He promised me.”

#

            Ruth Matsen wanted to cry. She was looking at her husband, lying in the hospital bed, and she wanted to cry.

            “Can I have something to drink?” The voice sounded nothing like her sweet Donald. It was hoarse, soft, and cracking. Nothing like his normal, deep, baritone voice she fell in love with upon first hearing.

            “Of course, my darling.” She picked up the glass of water that was next to his bed and moved the straw to his lips. He sucked on the end eagerly, but still taking very small amounts at a time. His eyes closed in a satisfying gesture when he finished. “Is that good?”
            “Yes,” he slowly answered. “Thank you.”

            “Anything for you, Donald. I love you so much.”

            “I love you too, Ruthie. When I get over this, I am going to take you to so many great and wonderful places.”

            “Of course you will.” She knew that wasn’t going to happen. His cancer had spread too far and the doctors weren’t giving him much more time. Three months at the most, they said. Her husband knew this too, but he always had such a positive attitude towards everything. “We’ll go to Egypt. I know you’ve always wanted to visit the pyramids.”

            “And then I’ll take you to the Eiffel Tower, where we will have a delicious lunch while looking over the beautiful city of Paris.”

            Ruth had always dreamed of traveling to Paris with her sweetheart. They lived well and were fortunate enough to travel throughout North America and parts of South America, but traveling far overseas was a little too pricey. They had saved up for a trip to Europe, but after Donald was diagnosed with prostate cancer, any extra money they had went towards making him better. They had sacrificed Ruth’s dream vacation for his health, and it was worth it.

            “It will be so much fun,” Ruth said, going along with the fantasy that would never happen. “I look forward to that trip; it sounds wonderful, Donald.”

            “You deserve it, Ruthie,” Donald wheezed. “You deserve everything wonderful coming your way.”

            Tears formed in her eyes and began to collect on her cheeks. She dabbed her face with her sleeves, trying not to show any weakness, or sadness, in front of her husband. She placed the glass of water back down and looked at her husband. Really looked at him.

            His once normal, thick, black and grey hair was thinning and almost gone, replaced by a scalp resembling that of a rotting corpse. His eyes were sunken. The skin on his head pulled tight against his skull. His body was a thin, skeletal outline under the sheet that covered him from the neck down. His body looked like it would crumble into dust at the slightest touch. Wires and tubes snaked out from under the sheets, traveling up into machines and IV bags that monitored his vitals and kept him alive. The person before her looked nothing like Donald; he was replaced by a science experiment.

            “Oh, Donald,” she said, wiping more tears away from her eyes, “you’ve been so good to me. I love you so much.”

            “I love you, too, Ruthie.”

            A small coughing fit struck her sick husband. He violently hacked and wheezed until finally becoming still in his bed. She was a little worried at first, but then she saw the slight rise and fall of his chest. He forced a weak smile to assure her he was fine.

            “Ruthie, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

            “No, Donald, you just lay there and get your rest. You need to get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”

            “This is important. Please?” His eyes begged at her.

            “Okay,” she said, giving in to his adorable puppy face that he tried to muster through the reality of his sickly one. She could never say no to her husband. “What did you want to tell me?”

            “I’m going to call you.”

            She was a little shocked to hear this, but she tried to hide her surprise.

            “I’ve thought a lot about it. And, when I die, I’m going to call you.”

            “Donald,” she said, almost tearing up again as she looked into his eyes, “you know you don’t have to do that.”

            “I know, but I want to.”

            While all of the hoopla surrounding the deceased being able to call the living was at its height in popularity, Ruth and Donald had talked about what they were going to do after each of them passed away. The decision was that neither one of them would call anyone. It released any pressure that came with the call. They wouldn’t have to worry about what to say, there wouldn’t be any impatient waiting around after the other dies, and they wouldn’t be giving in to the trendy new thing that was taking the world by storm.

            “I thought we had decided we wouldn’t call each other.”

            “I know, and we did,” her husband wheezed. “But the more I think about it, the more I feel it’s important I call you.”

            “Oh, shush now, Donald. You’re not going anywhere. This cancer is just a little roadblock you’ll get over soon enough.”

            “Even if I do, which I doubt will happen, I still want you to know that you will be getting a call.”

            “Why? What made you change your mind?”

            A long silence passed between the two before Donald continued. “It’s because of love. Ruthie, you have been everything to me. I love you more than anything in the world, and I will continue to love you wherever I am after this life. I think that’s why this phone call thing started happening, because of love. You said it yourself, that it’s a nice gesture from the universe. I think the universe is giving us the one last chance to talk to the people we love. Love trumps all, Ruthie, and there is no one I love more than you.”

            There was no amount of cloth in the world that could stop Ruth’s eyes from flowing those tears of love.

            “I love you too, Donald,” she told him, grabbing his hand for support. “More than you could know.”

            He smiled weakly at her before closing his eyes and falling asleep for the night.

#

            Ruth would never forget that moment, etched into her memory for the rest of her life. Even now, six months later, the scene was as vivid as the rays of sunbeams shining through her living room window.

            Not too much longer, now. She tried to remain calm, but Ruth could feel her nerves begin to rise. Her hands were clammy and her heart was beating a little faster at the anticipation.

            “It’s getting close,” Kathryn said, looking up from her novel. “Are you nervous?”

            “A little. Wouldn’t you be?”

            “Yes.” Her daughter paused for a few seconds before continuing. “Do you want me here when he calls? I can you give you some privacy and go into the other room for a while.”

            “No, dear,” Ruth said, reassuring Kathryn, “it’s okay. I want you to be here. If that’s okay with you.”

            “Of course it is,” she replied, wiping away the water that was slowly forming in her eyes. “It’s close, so I’ll shut up now.”

            Ruth smiled in thanks to her daughter and then looked at her watch, only six more minutes. Six minutes until the last time she would talk to her husband in this lifetime. It made her sad to think about it, but it also filled her with joy at being given the chance.

            “Kathryn,” she said, turning to her daughter. “Do you think you could get me a glass of cold water, if it isn’t too much trouble?”

            “Of course, Mom. I’ll be right back.” Setting her book down, Kathryn got up from the squeaky couch and made her way to the kitchen.

            So many thoughts raced through Ruth’s mind as she sat there, staring at her telephone. What if he didn’t call? What if the phone malfunctioned, or the power went out? Anything could happen. Maybe she was getting her hopes up for something that wasn’t really special. Doubt began to prevail in her brain when the phone rang.

            Ruth sat up in her seat, her eyes glued to the phone. She could make out her daughter running back into the room out of the corners of her eyes; she stood there, waiting for the phone to be answered.

            The phone rang for the second time.

            “Mom? Kathryn urged. “Answer it already.”

            Ruth cleared her throat and picked up the phone, holding the cold plastic of the receiver up to her ear. There was a silence on the other end, a silence that also had a substance to it. She had a feeling the other end was very far away.

            “Ruthie.”

            “Oh, Donald.”