Part 24 (2/2)
Kate picks up the phone and inserts a handful of change. She listens as the phone rings and rings, until finally a tired-sounding male voice answers.
” 'Lo?”
”Jack, it's me!”
”Okay. I give up. Me who?”
”It's Kate. a.s.shole ... it's Kate!”
”Jesus, Kate. It's nine in the morning. Call me back later.”
”Jack, wait! I'm in trouble!”
”Are you in jail?”
”No. I'm in ... to tell you the truth, I don't know where I am. I think I'm still in California. I got s.h.i.+t-faced last night at the Burgundy, and this morning I wake up in the f.u.c.king desert somewhere, in a pickup truck with some freakin' cowboy, my cell phone doesn't work, and he wants to take me to Graceland.”
”Yeah. Okay. So what's the problem?”
”Well, you need to come get me!”
”s.h.i.+t, Kate. It's practically the middle of the night, you don't know where you are, but you're with some guy, and you want me to come get you?”
”Dammit, Jack. I need your help. I'm not kidding.”
”Oh, so now you need me? Little Miss 'I can take care of myself' wants me to drop everything to help her out?”
”Jack, please. I don't have time for this. Just write down this number, call me right back, and we'll figure out the best way to work this out. Please?”
”Why don't you have the Lone Ranger ride you back here on Silver?”
”I'm trying to tell you, I don't know this guy!”
”Well, you'll have plenty of time to get to know him on the wagon train to Memphis.”
Then Kate hears a woman's voice, heavy with drowsiness, talking to Jack. ”Who is it, honey?” Jack replies, ”n.o.body. Go back to sleep.”
”Jack ... ?”
”Later, Kate. This isn't a good time.”
The line is dead. Kate bangs the phone down, then reaches into the slot for change. A nickel comes back. She bangs the receiver again, but no more money comes out. While she's frantically searching her bag for more change there's a tap on the door. It's F.M.
”What do you want?”
”You need more change?” He hands her several quarters. She looks at him, and he smiles. He is good-looking, and he's probably playing it for all he's worth. She grabs the change, pulls the door closed, loads up the phone, and dials. After four rings an answering machine comes on. Seventies p.o.r.n music plays behind a woman's sultry voice. ”This is Martine. I'm surfing p.o.r.n sites so I can't come to the phone right now. I'm not in the mood to return calls, so don't bother leaving a message. Oh, yeah. Don't forget to have a nice day.” Beeep.
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