Chadventures For All

In the midsummer, Nathan took advantage of the glistening Saturday afternoon and strolled to the park just down the street. He saw the small pond, remembering his tenth party at the pavilion just next to the pond. His mother had graciously asked the other boys’ mothers to bring their children of the same age to the party. Luke Geiler and Tommy Haywater saw the swans in the pond and hurled wooden bricks at their necks, hitting one, missing the others. The swan cried out and sunk under the water. Nathan cried for the bird until his mother pulled him aside whispering, “Stop crying or you’re ruin both of our parties.” Nathan couldn’t stop crying—physically; they didn’t discover his overactive tear ducts until he was thirteen. The boys went home with their mothers before he cut the cake. A frisbee landed beside Nathan and awoke him from the reverie.

“Little help!” Nathan grabbed the frisbee and looked up. He saw the guy who threw it, although his blonde hair covered half of his face. Zach Paulus. Yes, Zach had been at that fateful party.

“Hey Zach! I haven’t seen you in a few years!” They had to shout over the distance between them. Zach had been too popular to talk to Nathan in high school, but had never stopped being nice to Nathan. Senior year, Zach swept the senior superlatives: best personality, best dressed and best hair. Nathan thought he deserved best personality, not Zach, but he still voted for him.

“Oh yeah! Sorry I didn’t see you sitting there! I’m just playing some disk golf before I go to work!” Zach hoped of going pro.

“Maybe we could catch up!” Nathan’s hands started sweating.

“Sure! We could do something after I get off work! What’s your number?” Nathan’s mind flashed to the empty spot on his apartment’s wall. Maybe it was time to buy a phone. Nathan blushed—thank God he was still 50 yards away. Nathan just took his number down with pen and paper. After a few tries, he finally understood the whole number and shouted back, “I’ll call you tonight, Zach!”

“Sure! Good running into you, Jason!”

“It’s Nathan!”

“That’s what I said!” No it wasn’t, but Nathan was too excited to care. He folded the paper and put it in his wallet pocket so he wouldn’t lose it. It was time to get a phone. Nathan ran to the convenience store. He didn’t stop to think that not only do they not sell phones, but he also ran a mile out of his way. Next door was an antique store, so he ended up buying an old, plastic rotary phone. Nathan walked home and felt silly carrying a sky blue, plastic rotary phone down the main street. When he reached the apartment, he admired the new addition to the room. It filled it up a little more with the chair, the desk and the TV. Nathan claimed he liked open spaces, but he really couldn’t afford to buy any furniture. Who would he call first? The phone at Maggie’s Old City Doughnuts rang so loud he heard it through his open window.

“Hello, thank you for calling Maggie’s Old City Doughnuts.” He had not been back to the shop since the strange night when he saw the party girl emerge from the back room with balloons. He had forgotten how uncomfortable Maggie had made him feel. She always knew what to say.

“Hey Maggie, I'd like a dozen glazed doughnuts.” It was time to celebrate.

“I’m sorry, we’re too busy to pick up the phone, but leave your business and God bless you dear.” A recording? Nathan hung up. Just his luck. What about his mother? He glanced out the window to look for their house in the distance. He recognized the iconic red van his mother refused to sell. Anytime Nathan brought it up, she’d reply, “What if we needed to transport our family out of town in the middle of the night for some reason? Would we all fit in the Saturn? Honestly, Nathan, sometimes you don’t think!”

“Hello?” Bill answered the phone. Nathan liked his stepfather despite the height issue. He was five feet and five inches tall. Bill often asked Nathan’s mother to help reach things on the top shelf. She was six feet tall. It was an awkward match, and walking behind them always made Nathan nervous. If you squinted your eyes, Bill’s slender build would pass for a woman’s, and his mother’s immense body and cropped hair for a man’s. Visitors who sat behind them at church were always surprised when the couple turned to greet them.

Nathan discussed the weather with Bill. He asked if Nathan liked his apartment. He did. Bill was always so genial. He asked for his mother. “Paula’s soakin’ her feet in that new gadget.” Bill bought his wife a footbath for her birthday. Bill didn’t quite understand what it did, or why people would only like to bathe their feet, but he had come a long way. He just finished reading the Internet for Dummies.

Nathan understood—he wanted to call Zach anyway. They said their goodbyes and he found Zach’s number safely placed in his back pocket. After some rings and anxiety, the voicemail played in Nathan’s ears, “If you’d like to leave a message press one…” Nathan soon discovered that rotary phones and voicemail technologies don’t mix. “Are you still there?” The voicemail asked. Nathan tried to dial one again, but assuming that the caller had mistaken, the automated system released his call. He couldn’t contact Zach.

The phone only let out half a ring before Nathan snatched it—no, not Zach, a wrong number. Nathan stared out the window into the evening sun feeling more like the poor swan: struck and sinking.