I entered the yard and started cleaning up a bit. I pick up the end of the hammock that had fallen, shook it out, and reattached it to the tree. I finished and reached for my keys to go inside.
"Hey."
I turned. No one was there. But I'd heard the "hey" distinctly, though my ears, really. I waited, no one said anything. I looked up at the windows, maybe one of my kids had called out. But, no, the windows were closed.
My first voice, I thought. This must be what it's like. There wasn't really anything to do, it was just a simple "hey" loud and clear. It was a bit disconcerting, but I went inside and promptly forgot about it.
My cell phone was on the counter. I picked it up and saw a message. Roy had texted. "Got here early and I'm sitting on the patio." Ah! My voice! It was Roy, of course, lurking in the bushes.
"Why didn't you say anything else?" I asked.
"I didn't want to scare you," he said.
Oh. And of course there's no one else whose voice I'd rather hear!
Now that is just mean :)
ReplyDeleteGreat description, Dinah. I remember being freaked out in my training when I heard a voice call my name in the middle of a lecture and I had just imagined it. Perhaps the lecture was pretty boring or maybe it was my first voice!
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