5/22/14

Naja Spreco:  She took a deep breath, then pressed send as she wandered along the beach, hoping against hope that the number was right and that he did in fact, pick up.

Carlisle Finch:  Ringing phone. No one calls anymore, not the personal line. One, two, three rings pull him out of a deep slumber and Carlisle rolls out of bed, casting aside a crinkled up sheet to paw blindly for the phone. It's pitch dark except for the lit up screen and the little red standby light on his tv. Doesn't recognize the number, it's not mama. If it's important, they'll call back, or leave a message. So he hits end, pushing the call to his voicemail. After a mechanical tone: "You reached Finch. Be brief, I'll get back when I can." A little tinny robot voice, everyone knows the one, leaves the instructions and another tone sounds.

Naja Spreco:  When it went to voice, her heart dropped, but the call had gone through and it was his number.  That was a good sign. .   "It's me."  she drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.   "I can be reached at 213-365-1139. "  She let out another breath, then drew another in, "I hope..."  and beeeeeep..  She looked at the phone.  "Fuck."  Okay.  She eyed the phone, and hit send again.   Either it would roll straight to voice which meant he shut it off because he can't take calls or it would take a ring or two which meant he was ignoring her.   

Carlisle Finch:  Ring! There it is again. Carlisle shut his eyes tighter, willing the sound to stop. Ring! Rolling over, he crunched a pillow up to his ear. Ring! Third time did it. With an exasperated sigh he sat himself up, grabbing the phone off the exposed mattress where he'd left it. Missed call, voice mail, and it was ringing again. "Christ." Hitting send the lit the whole screen up and the sudden brightness stabbed his eyes. "Finch. What's the situation?" Better be good, he didn't add. 

Naja Spreco: "You're alive."   That was a relief and she let that wash over her.   "I want to thank you for your last text."   yeah, the red head was starting to slip through.   "And I quote, because I can.  Because I hae only read it a thousand times since yo uleft it for me on September 12th, 2012.  Work has been getting in the way of my life--that's you.  I'm sorry, Naja.  I'll make it up to you soon.  I love you."   She drew in a breath.   "Did you mean it?"

Carlisle Finch:   Only happens a few times in your life, when you hear something that truly shocks you. A little string of words that hit you like a lightning bolt, jolting you deep in the core. Carlisle was intantly awake. Had to be, and to make sure he turned and dropped his feet onto the cold concrete of the floor. Felt it, definitely felt it. Reality. Which meant the voice on the other end was real. He hadn't heard it in almost three years, but wait another fifty, he'd still know it. "Naja." The shape, the taste of her name a stranger on his lips after all this time, but it burned him. A hot coal pressed there, too intense to suffer a second time. Carlisle sat in the cold dark for a minute while it sunk in. He had to respond, had to say something. Anything. But what? Where could he start? His thumb hung dangerously over the end key. One press, a quick block. No. Not that. He swallowed, a hard swallow that forced a moon-sized lump down his throat. Mouth dry as ash. "Yes, I'm alive. I'm okay." The text. He hadn't deleted it  from his phone, didn't use the same phone anymore but it was in a box somewhere safe. "I meant it. Naja, I'm in Prague, but I can be on a flight tomorrow. Where are you?" 

Naja Spreco:  Relief washed through her and she dropped to her knees in the sand.   "Miami.   Oh, God, please come."   She was going to be red eyed, swollen nosed in 2.0 but she didn't care.   "Um, South Beach at the moment."  She dragged her hand through her hair, sending the pins holding it in place flying.

Carlisle Finch: "Miami." Miami? Off the top of his head, he couldn't recall if a flight went straight from Prague to Miami. He might have to catch a connecting. He could scrape together his stuff in the morning, be on a plane before breakfast. "South Beach." Lacking anything better, he pulled up the memo program on his phone and punched the info in. "I'm coming, Naja. I'll call you when I hit the ground." Time to get out of Prague anyway. 

Naja Spreco:  "Be careful."  She smiled, drawing in a ragged breath.   "I love you."  Funny how he could make her heart fill and cut off all ability to breathe at the same time.

Carlisle Finch:  No pause. No hesitation. "I love you, Naja." He hung up. Had to. Carlisle looked around, his eyes adjusting slowly to the dark. In a bare room. Bed, television, a suitcase in the corner. Nothing important. Nothing at all seemed very importnat at that moment except getting on a plane. Sleep would be out of the question. One ragged breath, a sigh, and he pulled up the browser on his phone. Booking flights. Life sure loved throwing him curveballs. 

Naja Spreco:  She stared at the phone, the sound of his voice still in her ear, and then she was springing up like a jack in the box and running back up the beach to the bar.  Looking kind of like a wild woman with the pins all out of her hair.