The Last Call.

The last call.

By: Billy Winningham.

      It was almost 10 and they were still out. Frank had stayed home to finish working on a presentation for work tomorrow. He was getting that promotion no matter what. No more asking his dad for money or his wife, Mary, having to work two shifts at the hospital. And then, he might be able to buy Jack a car so that he wouldn’t have to drive him around town anymore. Chester, the family cat, came and jumped on his desk again. “Get off, you stupid cat,” Frank mumbled, pushing the cat away. About three years ago, Frank went to the dump to drop some stuff off and on his way back home, he heard some purring in the backseat. He couldn’t just stop and drop it off, besides, Mary always wanted a cat. It was small and it didn’t look like it shed a lot, so he decided to keep it.
It was getting late. They had just gone out to get some food to bring back. What could take this long? Mary said something about fried chicken, Frank’s favorite. He decided to give her a call, even though she hated when he checked up on her. After a few seconds, she answered but all he could hear was crackling. She must be going through the tunnel, he thought. The pain in his leg was killing him. He went and took some painkillers and passed out soon after.
Frank woke up Thursday morning late as usual. Chester was the only one to greet him. Where were Mary, Jack and Rob? Frank searched the house for them, only to find that it was empty. When he couldn’t find anyone, he called her cell again. It was dead. Frank panicked. He had to get to work by 9 and it was already 8:15 and it takes 30 minutes to get there. Maybe she’s gone, he thought to himself as he put on a fresh shirt. He had to get to work. He finished getting ready and grabbed his poster board. He left her a note on the refrigerator when he walked out. “Dear God, I hope she calls…” he said to the empty rooms.
Frank got to work just on time. When he walked in, he heard some people talking about a...