It was quite a normal day, really. At least, it was for the first half. I was up at 6am, out the door at 7am, got to work, and a few hours later went on my lunch break. A little cafe opened up round the corner from my office, and I always like to judge a new cafe by their Americano so I sat in the sun and sipped on the particularly dark Italian blend.
Then my phone rang.
That wasn’t the surprising part, obviously. My phone rings all the time. Between colleagues looking for reassurance on the mistakes they’ve made or friends going through whatever drama they’d jumped into, I very rarely am off my phone. I did what I always did and answered without looking at the name.
“Hello?” I offered as an opening.
“Ah”, responded a soft, velvety voice. “It’s good to hear your voice again. How’s your morning going?”
Okay, don’t judge me on this part. Like I said, I get calls a lot. Sometimes when I answer the phone, I have no idea who I’m talking to. I don’t even question if anymore, I just carry on and try to figure it out as I’m going. So call me crazy, but I told this luscious voice all about my morning. Then I asked how their morning was going.
“My morning!” they chuckled over their words “my morning is full of love and light. What more could I ask for?”
Now begins the investigation to figure out how I know them. I asked when we last spoke; “Oh not long, I don’t think! Was it last week? The week before…” they trailed off while I was still trying to pin down where I knew them from at least.
It took me an embarrassingly long time to think of looking at my phone to see if I’d saved the number.
As it goes, I had absolutely not saved the number. In fact, I don’t know if it’s a number that could be saved. I don’t have an accurate description of the tentacled, spiked and glitchy appearance of each cipher masquerading as a phone number. The only accurate part was it started with ‘+44’, and I couldn’t work out if that made it stranger or not.
I did, however, see the call was through WhatsApp, and the photo icon was of a person with a light beard, chestnut hair, bright yellow dungarees with no top underneath, a flowery sun hat and a serene smile. The photo showed this eccentric looking person pouring water in the sea from a children’s plastic watering can.
I’ll be honest, I had more questions after seeing all that.
I must have fallen silent, as the voice ofer the phone started laughing. I noticed they laugh a lot…not that it’s giving away much.
“You have no idea who it is, do you?” Their words cascaded silkily and excitedly through my phone and into my ear. Knowing I would admit I didn’t, I didn’t feel I needed to lie. I joined their laughter and said I didn’t have a clue.
“It’s me, Krystle. A Loving God. You’ve been asking for me to answer and hey, I felt it was time to give you a call!”
They still sounded as relaxed and effortless as they had done two seconds earlier, which was interesting since they’d just come across as a schizophrenic who’d missed their medication.
“Sure!” I replied, “that’s great, it’s good to hear from you, god. Appreciated. I’m gonna hang up now-“ they cut me off before I could end the conversation.
“No no no! I’m here for you. Last week, or the week before. You sat in your kitchen and said ‘if there IS a loving God, they’d answer my prayers’, is that right?”
I paused, but not because I was stunned silent. I genuinely couldn’t remember this scenario- it sounded like me, for sure, that’s definitely something I would say. I just couldn’t place it contextually. Not that I needed to, because apparently “God” hadn’t finished.
“Remember Krystle, you’d bought dinner because you were invited out, even though it was too expensive, and you were home, you were full, and you went to eat a slice of cake from the day before. You said you’d be sick if you ate anymore, but you got a fork out and started eating. You didn’t know why, you asked for my help and now…hello! Good morning!”
…this time I was actually stunned silent. It’s interesting, even though their tone was more hurried and excited, recalling and repeating the events of the evening last week (or the week before), their voice never lost this intense calming nature. It sounded like the feeling you get when it’s cold outside but you’re in bed wrapped up warm. But the content was so unnerving, it was more like fantasising about it raining outside while you’re in bed warm, when in reality you’re standing in the rain and your shoes are soaked through.
“I’ve got great news, Krystle. I’m here for YOU. I heard you pray and…” it sounded like they clicked their fingers “…your prayers are answered.”
They were right. Something about me just seemed to lift. I wasn’t uncomfortable, not any more than anyone in their mid-30s is. Mild back pain and a bit sleepy, maybe a little hungry…all of that was gone in a click. I felt like I’d slept for a year, had my spine re-aligned and had nutrition pumped into my blood stream. Hell, I’m pretty sure my hair got thicker and silkier too. I was still in stunned silence, I couldn’t think of enough words to even string them into a sentence at this point.
“All I ask is one thing from you, Krystle…” said the dulcet tone, seemingly flowing straight into my consciousness at this point, “…is that you use the knife to the right of your coffee cup to severe the jugular of the man behind the counter.”
Part two coming soon.