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I PICKED UP MY HEADSET as I fired up the computer, ready to start my shift. Working in a call centre may not be the highlight of my career so far, but it paid the bills. Opening the programs in auto-pilot mode, I wasn’t paying much attention. I’d done this same thing, every morning for the last six months. But the call I was about to make was very different from the thousands of other calls that I had made.
I clicked the dial button and the familiar ring-ring filled my ears.
The call was answered and expecting the usual hello; I was greeted with a series of goo sounds. I smiled. This had to be a little kid. “Hello sweetheart,” I cooed. “Is your mummy there?”
More goo’s and what sounded like a yes came through the receiver. “Can you put her on the phone for me, darling?”
I heard rustling and then an older woman shooing the child away, “I’ll take it, James. Your mum is waiting for you.”
I smiled again. Must be grandma.
A few moments later. “Hello? Who am I speaking to?”
“Hi, my name is Sarah and I’m calling from Teleco. How are you today?” I said with the well-rehearsed introduction speech.
“Oh, hello Sarah. I’m fine thank you,” she replied. “How can I help you?”
“May I ask who I’m speaking to?”
“Oh,” she laughed. “It’s Mary Gallagher.”
“Thank you, Mary.” Again, I spoke the lines that had been said a million times before. “I was calling to speak with Tina. Would she be your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Ok great. And was the lovely young man who answered the phone your grandson?”
“Yes, he is such a dear little thing.”
“James,” a woman called in the background. “Did the phone ring?”
Footsteps echoed of the distinctive sound of hardwood floor, followed by a sigh. “Hello? I’m sorry, my son answered the phone. Who is this?”
“Oh, that’s alright. I’ve been having a chat with your mum,” I replied.
Silence and then, “My mum? That’s impossible.”
“Um, she told her name was Mary? Maybe I misunderstood.” I answered back. A distinct unease was rising inside me.
“That was her name, but I’m telling you it’s not possible.”
Unsure of what to say, I’m about to end the call with an apology and leave it at that, but her next words left me chilled.
“My mum is dead. She died three weeks ago.”
Frozen in shock, I cannot say a single thing.
The receiver goes dead and the familiar beep-beep-beep rings in my ears, as my brain comes to unbelievable conclusion that I just had a conversation with someone’s dead mother.
A ghost answered my phone call.
