Hear the Wind Sing

12

At 7:15 the phone rang.

It happened while I was lying on a wicker chair in the living room, in the midst of gobbling down cheese crackers.

“Hey, good evening! This is Radio NEB’s Pop Music Requests. Are you listening to the radio?”

Inside my mouth, the confusion of the moment sent the beer and the remnants of a cheese cracker down my throat.

“The radio?”

“Yeah, the radio. The machine representing the cumulative efforts of…*ahem*… civilization as we know it. More advanced than the electric vacuum cleaner, smaller than a refrigerator, cheaper than a television. What were you doing?”

“Reading a book.”

“Tsk tsk, that’s no good. You’ve gotta listen to the radio. Reading books just makes you lonely, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.”

“Books, those’re things you read with one hand to kill time while you’re spaghetti’s boiling. You got that?”

“Yeah.”

“Great…*hiccup*…now that that’s straightened out, we can talk. You ever talked to a radio announcer who can’t stop hiccupping?”

“Nope.”

“Well, we’re breaking new ground. It’s a first for our listeners at home as well. Anyway, do you have any idea why I called you during a live broadcast?”

“Nope.”

“Well, to tell you the truth, there’s this girl…*hiccup*…who requested a song for you. Do you know who that could be?”

“Nope.”

“She requested the Beach Boys song California Girls, we remember that one, don’t we? Got a guess who she might be?”

I thought it over for a moment, then told him I had no idea.

“Yeah…well, that’s a problem, then. If you can guess who she is, you’ll get a special-edition T-shirt sent to you, so think hard!”

I thought it over once more. I had an idea, but I felt as if there were something stuck, blocking me from getting to the nook in my brain where the memory was stored.

“California Girls…Beach Boys…does that ring a bell?”

“When you put it that way, there was this girl in my class five years ago who let me borrow that record.”

“Tell us more.”

“Well, we were on a field trip and this girl’s contact lens fell out and I helped her look for it, so as a reward she let me borrow that record.”

“A contact lens, huh? Hmm. Anyway, you gave the record back to her, right?”

“Nope, I lost it.”

“That’s no good. Even if you had to buy a new one, you should’ve returned it. A girl lends you something…*hiccup*…you return it, understand?”

“Yes.”

“Great! So the girl from five years ago who lost her contact lens on a field trip, she’s definitely listening, yeah? So…uh…what’s her name?”

I told him the name I’d finally remembered.

“Well, it looks like he’s going to be buying a copy of that record and returning it to you. Great! …anyway, how old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

“That’s a good age. You a student?”

“Yes.”

“…*hiccup*…”

“Hm?”

“What’s your major?”

“Biology.”

“Mm…you like animals?”

“What do you like about them?”

“That they don’t laugh.”

“Hm? Animals don’t laugh?”

“Horses and dogs laugh a little.”

“Wow, when?”

“When they’re having a good time.”

For the first time in years, I felt myself getting angry.

“Well…*hiccup*…maybe we’ll start seeing more canine comedians.”

“You mean you’re not one of those?”

“Hahahaha!”