Sunday, February 17, 2013

This Is a Non-Secure Line



555-1212. Field office red phone. Please leave your designation, agency and condition code after the tone and we will contact you as soon as possible. This is a non-secure line.

You have seven new messages.

*beep*

“I don't know which one of us is leaving this message. I hear your voice and it sounds familiar, but he has become adept at guessing my innermost thoughts. I found this number in my pocket. I didn't know who else to call. Help me before he finds me again.”

Monday, 11:24 p.m. You have six new messages.


*beep*

“I change hotels thinking he won’t find me but each night he does. He beats me until I can no longer tell good from bad, cause from effect. I know from the bruises I wake up with each morning. I don’t know where he takes me but I think I've never left that place. He must be tracking our communications. I won’t use this phone again.”

Tuesday, 11:45 p.m. You have five new messages.


*beep*

“My memory has become fragmented beyond my age. I suspect he slips something into my drink at night. Each morning I wake up groggy and disoriented. I constantly flash back to random events I’d forgotten or images of a life I never lived. I don’t have much time. I need you to re-establish the protocol.”

Wednesday, 4:58. a.m. You have four new messages.


*beep*

“Why are you ignoring my messages? I wouldn't risk calling if I weren't desperate. Or maybe I would. Like a moth with a flame, I am drawn by the echo of his words inside my head like an instinct turned deadly wrong. Only you can tell me why.”

Thursday, 4:16 a.m. You have three new messages.


*beep*

“I know what you’re doing now. Why did you have him tell me? Was it revenge? Or was he trying to warn me of the damage he’d seen your memories create inside my head? Today, I can’t cleanse my mind of either violence. I refuse to be your pawn.”
  
Friday, 8:23 a.m. You have two new messages.


*beep*

“He didn't come to me last night. My mind is clear. I finally remember. In the interrogation room, I saw the shadow of someone watching us. You allowed me to graduate into ignorance, remaining silent until he spoke in anger. Even then, you chose your words to set everything in motion. You won’t use me to betray him. Don’t contact me again.”

Saturday, 1:44 p.m. You have one new message.


*beep*

“This will be my final message. I refuse to play your game any longer. He found me again last night. This time I was waiting for him. He confirmed you were in the debriefing that day. I know you've heard the messages. He played me the recording. I still don’t know how my voice ended up on your machine. But if you betray me again, I’ll…”

*crash* *smash* *scuffle*

“Quick, get him in the restraints.”

*thump* *thump* *thump*

“Hold him still. I don’t want to break the needle.”

*rustle* *rustle* *mmrph*

“Ok, that should keep him quiet. Throw the equipment on the gurney. We’ll wheel him out through the lobby. Let’s move people before someone calls the cops. You, hang up that phone.”

*step* *step* *step*

“Young, Karl G., Rendition. All clear. Subject is in custody. En route to main facility for debriefing and psychiatric evaluation. Terminate this extension and erase all messages. We’ll pick up his partner next.”

Sunday, 4:05 a.m.

End of messages.


Text © 2013 Edward P. Morgan III
Photo © 2013 Tim Fritz
     see more at Tim Fritz Photography

2 comments:

  1. --------------------------------
    Notes and asides:
    --------------------------------

    Well, this was supposed to be my submission to NPR’s 3-Minute Fiction Contest (Round 10). The hook was “Leave a message after the beep.” The limit was 600 words which it is on the nose. I wrote it two days after I heard about the contest. I set it down to let it settle before the final edit. My wife’s boss, who she also considered a friend, died quite unexpectedly two days later. In the ensuing distraction of supporting her through a tough time, I completely forgot about the contest until I saw the final reminder for submissions. Ten hours too late. The deadline was the day of his memorial service. It probably only means that people get to read it sooner without waiting for the rights of first publication to expire.

    The people who know me know recognize the message from our answering machine. It generally scares off solicitors. Though every once in a while, they call back to make sure they heard it right.

    It’s been great working with guest photographer Tim Fritz on this one. And by working with, I mean seeing what a fantastic picture he came up with. He assures me no bail money was involved. This man is a trained professional; do not attempt this at home. Be sure to check out more of his outstanding work on his website http://timfritzphotography.com/ (linked above).

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  2. Picture notes (from Tim Fritz):

    Shot at an unlocked junction box in my area that I spotted a while back. One strobe with diffuser, processed with Photoshop CS6 and Nik Color Efex Pro.

    When Edward hit me with the title I thought of the unlocked phone equipment right away.

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