A BOY AND A PHONE CALL
Yes, a boy. Not a character from a story I'm fantasizing about...but a flesh and blood human being. and oh, my he is damn cute. Can't be more than 22. With closely cropped brown hair, he could pass for a military boy.
I approach my desk and sit, his eyes following me while he stands completely still near the wet bar. George taught him well.
"What is your name?"
"George Jr., Master."
Intense brown eyes lock with mine and I can't help smile at how very handsome he is. George Jr? How can it be?
"Is George your father?" I ask. I don't understand.
"No, he is my grandfather." Now, that I didn't expect.
His eyes are intense yet soft, like a poet. How fun it will be if he is a writer like his grandfather. I begin to ask him a question, but the phone rings.
It stops both of us, for this phone never rings. Or more to the point, has never rung since I've lived at Holden Farms West. Not this phone. I didn't know anyone had the number. I let it ring a dozen times before I decide to answer.
I grab the old fashioned headset, "Hello?"
There isn't a response and for several seconds I hear silence on the other end. Then, faintly at first and increasing in volume, music plays.
A strange sensation passes over my body as the music pulses in my ear.
"You have a letter," a voice says before ending the call. I yell into the receiver several times, but there is nobody on the other end.
The boy stares at me, waiting for orders or a reaction, but I have no idea what to think. Can this be Ryan? Another letter from him? Why would he play a song I just posted to my blog? Stalk me much???