Their Voices Rattled My Window Sill - Part 2 by Sebastien de Robilalrd

Part 2

“So, they’re here to find their comrades?”
“Comrades? This isn’t Cuba, Mary.”
“You know what I mean. It’s been a while though?”
“Only about a month. What should we do? Tea anyone?”

Everyone followed Tom into the kitchen. He turned the kettle on and grabbed some milk from the fridge. Mike still complained about the UHT milk, he said it lacked flavour. Tom didn’t mind. It lasts forever right?

“Do you think we should resume the post?” Tom asked when everyone was seated around the kitchen table, hands warmed by the freshly brewed tea.

“Maybe,” said Mike, “Perhaps we should find a new place somewhere near the edge of town, perhaps near the freeway?”

“Yeah, good idea. When?”
Mary piped in, “Lets give it a full day before we all move out. How about somebody man the Tower tomorrow for the day? They can head out while it’s still dark?”

The Tower was a bistro a few kilometres away that contained an excellent, windowed tower. You could see the city pretty clearly from there.

Ruby volunteered. “Two of us should go. Mike?”
“Sure little sister. Leave at 4?”
“Sounds like a plan.”


Ruby and Mike woke up early and headed for the tower. They didn’t drive, or take their bikes. The less noise the better. They could hide better on foot. This did mean a much longer walk to the Tower. It was almost sun up by the time they reached the back entrance. They unlocked the door at the back, ducked in, and then locked the door again. It was important it looked like no one had entered the building. They climbed the stairs to the Tower. It had been several months since they had been there.

“Dusty.”
“Yeah.” They unpacked their gear; One walkie talkie, two binoculars (lenses capped) and a digital SLR with a rather large zoom. They also pulled out pistols from their holsters, and placed them next to the camera and walkie talkie.
“Coffee?”
“Yeah. Be back soon.” Mike climbed back downstairs. Ruby turned the walkie talkie on. At exactly 5 minutes past 7, she pressed down the button. Tom had the other walkie talkie on his bed side table. It hissed briefly. He got up and knocked on Mary’s door.

“Hey, they’re there.”
“Cool.”

Back in the tower, Mike and Ruby were sipping their coffees. Mike was facing south east, Ruby north west. Mike watched a lot of movies, in fact they all did. They knew that they needed to do make sure no sun reflected off any bright objects or mirrors while they were in the tower. The binoculars would only used sparingly. Mike felt he was a bit paranoid, but he was trying to be careful.

“One month? Approximately. That seems like an odd amount of time.”
“I know. You think they would have been eager to get their buddy.”

So, what happened? Why are the gang so secretive? Oh, should I ask, why are they being so careful?

Mike was never the protective older brother. That was not his thing. He would pretend to intrude now and gain, but Ruby had a good head on her shoulders, and he didn’t have to worry about her.

Their Voices Rattled My Window Sill - Part 1 by Sebastien de Robillard

Tom rushed into the lounge. He stood against the door and was breathing heavily. He was almost sweating.

Mike didn’t bother to look up from his book. He was tired of scary shadows and menacing broken lampposts. At this point in his life, even Moby Dick, yes, MOBY DICK was more interesting than the hyperbole that would about doubtlessly burst from Tom’s lips.

“Mi…Mike,” uttered Ruby, “I think he is serious this time. Look at him…” Mike wanted to ignore her, but Ruby’s tone brought back cold memories.

He looked up. Tom was white. Pale.

“Where is Mary?” Mike looked around, as did Ruby. Tom ran down the corridor and checked each bedroom. Mike: the kitchen, the Library. Ruby: Bathroom and upstairs.

“Fuck,” said Mike. “What happened Tom? What did you see?”

“See? I didn’t see anything. I heard. I heard voices. Loud, and clear.”

“Are you sure?” Ruby turned to face the men (She was a woman by the way. Sorry for adding that, it just feels sexiest of something to say “men”, but are “boys”, “guys” or “dicks” any better?)

“What do you mean “voices”?” she asked.

“Like normal voices. Speaking, arguing actually. Like real stuff. Not a recording like last time.”

One of them needed to say what they were all thinking?

“Soldiers…?”

Tom shrugged his shoulders, he shook his head too. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

“Fuck… where the fuck is Mary!? Mike, where was she going?”

“I don’t know,’ he stammered. “Maybe to get a DVD? A book?”

“We need to go…”

“Yes, yes…"

“Arrete!” It was Tom. “We have to wait until it gets dark. And then one of us can go. One only.”

Mike was quite startled by his friend’s tone. Tom was being assertive? Taking leadership? Mike was about to tear Tom to pieces, and even Ruby looked like she was ready to join in, but then immediate issue of a possibly missing Mary returned to the forefront of the worries. Tom’s sudden backbone could be made fun of later. Yes, that is what they would do.

“Mary! Damn!”

“Why don’t we use the walkie talkie?”

“If she heard what I heard, then hopefully it’s turned off?”

Tom was ready to go. He packed a torch and had his walkie talkie turned off.

“I’ll head to the shops, the back way. Hopefully she’ll be heading back…”

Mary opened the door, walked in and locked it behind her. She looked at the startled faces.

“I head voices. But not a recording like last time.”

The collective sigh of relief (Tom, Mike, Ruby) startled Mary. She managed to stammer out, “What’s going o…?” before she had three people hugging her, rather forcefully too.

Mike pushed Tom away.

“Family first,” he said.

How iphones Destroyed the World - Part 10 by Sebastien

She got on the train at Windsor,

Her dress was rather sexy. Just

Above the knees, it buttoned from

Her waist to her white neck.

The second highest button wasn’t closed,

And her white skin flashed

Into view. It was like her breasts were

Too busty for that dress.

Nice.

It was hard for me not to search,

To look for cleavage. She was with

One other girl and two guys.

One of the guys was searching too,

his eyes dropping constantly.

Her eyes, her chest. Her eyes her chest chest.

Can you blame him? She was cute breast,

I mean she was a cute girl.

Eyes eyes smile nod that was funny he said.

I smiled to myself.

Eyes chest smile chest glare breast glare eyes

Glare

Can you blame him?

Oh, she probably owned an iphone,

I can’t remember.

How iphones Destroyed the World - Part 9 by Sebastien

Tim and Petey were friends,

But it wasn’t always so.

I remember when they would

Awkwardly greet each other on the tram:

Polite hello and then headphones back on

And/or the book/magazine re-opened.

Tim always a magazine, Petey an airport novel.

Tim upgraded to an iphone one day,

Discarding the magazine.

It was all games and “apps” now.

One afternoon, Petey had a

heart attack.

On the tram, and who better

To assist him, to save him,

Then his friend Tim.

Tim dialed the ambulance,

But his battery died…

The other passengers offered their iphones,

(okay to do to another member of the cul….)

but these all died too, what with

all the texting and surfing and gaming…

Flat batteries, Hilarious!

Technology imitating life,

Petey’s battery had run out too,

And at the most inopportune time!

Part 22: Old Actors run predicatble hoops

The highlight of the film, was seeing a rather cute girl with two kids tagging along, at the cinema. She was approximately my height, and had these lovely square glasses. Her skinned was a little sunned, adding a lovely glow to her mixed-raced colour. Her black hair was tied back. She was the highlight of the film.

Rec had insisted I accompany her to see Old Dogs (see my review http://stokershorrorblog.blogspot.com) with her mother and mother’s new beau. I tried not to accept, I fought hard to not go, but she used her immense intelligence and bargaining skills to get me to go.

‘I’ll pay and I’ll get you dinner.’

‘Okay.’

Back to the girl. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to do things to her. I pretended to read the posters of the up coming films so I could accidentally bump into her, or one of her kids. Whichever.

‘Sorry’, I fumbled. ‘These new films look ever so exciting, I just wasn’t paying attention.’

She politely smiled, ‘That’s alright,' and looked away.

‘So, I assume you will be sitting through the horribly vacuous Old Dogs, much like me?’ I threw in my most mischievous smile.

She nodded, ‘Yeah. It’s really the only thing appropriate for the kids.’ We both laughed at this. I looked at the kids – both were ugly.

‘These kids yours? I don’t see much of a resemblance?’

She looked down at them, to make sure the resemblance I was referring to was not in fact there. 'That one is my neighbour's, and that one is his best friend. I am being a very nice neighbour so his mum can have some alone time.’

I nodded. I understand. I do understand. Sometimes I read comics on the balcony so Rec can clean without getting in my way.

She looked around, ‘Where are your kids?'

‘My girlfriend is,’ I looked around, and realised that Rec may have been watching this the whole time, ‘is just walking up from the candy bar now, with her parents.’

‘Girlfriend’ Statement, not question. Damn.

Rec arrived, handed me my choc-top and away we went.

‘Were you just hitting on that girl?’ she asked.

‘No, just a friendly chat. We had mutual dislike for the upcoming film.’

‘Right Steve Rogers. Sure.’ Her pace quickened.

We watched the trailers and ads in silence.

How iPhones Destroyed the World – Part 1 by Sebastien de Robillard

It was a bright day, a wonderful day.
Jim went to the store, and pointed.
He took the form, and signed it.
They handed the box over.

He smiled with glee and sat down.
He had to touch it now.
And as he touched, a skater saw.
And he wizzzzzed past, snatching it.

So he ran, after the skater.
He chased, he pushed, he chased, he pusshhed.
The thief coasted further away, fastwe.
And then Jim gave up, he turned back.

He was going back.
Back to where it all started.
He was going to point.
He was going to sign.

He was going to get another one.

On that bright and wonderful day.
Jim finally got a new iphone. Another one.
Oh what a glorious day.

This time he waited until he was home.
To touch the iphone.
He had to be smarter now.
He was smarter now.

This as how iPhones destroyed the world.

Dial 0011, then the nation code…

Not one, but two phone booths. Two phone booths that would allow you to make international calls, at the price of a local call.

Both on the corner of Balaclava and Stewart. So, you ask? This is a rather strange bit of news don’t you think?

An old man I know mentioned this to me in passing a few months ago -he worked in the area during the early Eighties. He said the broken phone booths were a Godsend. I took no notice of him until one evening, when I saw the light. The light was accompanied by beer and vokda, and was warm and fuzzy. I was drunk, and there I was, on the corner of Balaclava Road and Steward street, in front of an old petrol station. There were two square pieces of concrete just in front of me. Why would there be two 70 cm by 70 cm concrete rectangles in front of a petrol station?

But then the old man’s story came back to me. And I started to snoop around.

The following morning, I began knocking on doors. I was looking for some older residents, people that would have been around in the early Eighties and may have remembered such an oddity. I got a lot of strange looks. People were annoyed that I was selling something on a Sunday morning. When I mentioned I was a writer, I received even stranger looks.

One dear old lady ushered her daughter to the door. Mira was ‘about 27’. She had a gorgeous Eastern European face that she tried to hide behind her long, light brown fringe. Mira listened while I surmised what little I had to go on.

‘That does sound familiar,’ she nodded thoughtfully. ‘Yeah, I think my mum mentioned it to me, years ago though. Do you want to come in, for a coffee?’ I followed her in and had the most delicious coffee of my life.

The three of us sat down, and Mira jogged her mum’s memory. Her mother arrived in Australia as a refugee in 1982, from the former Czechoslovakia. Her father shared the same passage, and it was not long before one thing led to another… The young, pregnant couple somehow settled in Balaclava, and began building a home in a rather run down old house. Mira’s mother recalled the first time she heard of the phone, and decided see if the rumours were true.

‘Mamma woke up really early one morning. She had a beanie on and wrapped a blanket around her…’ Mira was translating to me. ‘She said it was cold, but nothing like Czechoslovakia. She put the money in, and dialled her mamma.’ Mira’s mother’s voice softened at this point, and tears rolled down her eyes.

Mira looked at me. ‘It was the first time in years that she had heard her mother’s voice. I never knew that story.’ Mira embraced her mother.

I left soon after this, but obtained Mira’s details should I have any further questions related to her mother’s story. I also gave her my details should she need to call me if her mother remembered anything about the phone booths.

‘Anything at all,’ I said, ‘Call me.’ I touched her hand gently and left.

I googled. Oh how I googled. The address, “phone booths”, “free calls”. Nothing. I was about to give up when Mira called me. She called me! Her mother had given her the names of old neighbours that may remember more about the phone booths. Mira agreed to come with me. She was excited by all of this. I felt like Amelie searching for the owner of the little child’s box. But, you know, not a girl.

Stenio Adelaide immigrated to our fair country in 1978. He moved around for years – living in hostels, relatives homes and shared accommodation. It was while living with one Indian man, a Chinese boy and a “crazy guy form Malta,” that he first used the phone.

‘I would call home. Like everyone else see? Whiskey mon noir?’ I nodded politely, remember the Mauritian tradition. He offered some to Mira who also accepted. ‘Do you and your girlfriend want to make call as well?’ He laughed at his own joke, and stroked his moustache. Neither of us corrected him, but I looked at Mira. The kind of look that suggest dinner and wine and then back to my house. I wasn’t feeling hungry though, I have never really liked wine.

‘I remember,’ he said, after another sip of whiskey, ‘That when I told my mum I was marrying. That where I heard my cousin’s marriages and their kids. For two years I used that phone. It was almost free. I used to call my best friend, Gaetan, le gogot, whenever I was drunk. It was always late in the night here, and a good time back home. He was the one who told me about my mum dying. Run over in Curepipe by some drunken idiot. I stopped drinking for years after that.’

‘What happened after this? Did Telstra ever catch on?’

Stenio laughed at this. ‘It was Telecom back then mon noir. And sure, they knew, but they couldn’t fix. You would see a repair van, you know, time to time, and the phones wouldn’t work for a week or two, but then the you would see people lining, lots and lots, and you knew that the across the calls home were free again. We thought it was magic to be honest. It was too good to be true. And every time the bastards try to fix, it work again after.’

We left Stenio Adelaide and walked towards Carlisle Street. I wanted to suggest dinner and wine, and then to suggest skipping it for me place.

Mira lit a cigarette. She looked pensive. ‘I guess if you knew nothing else, and had nothing else, it would have seemed like magic.’

I agreed. ‘A magic way to find out your mum is dead.’ Bad joke. Bad timing. Really bad timing.

Mira stopped and glared at me. ‘You can’t understand what it must have been like for them. My mum never, I mean never talks about her life before she came to Australia. The memories are too painful I think. Ever. I didn’t know I had a grandmother until we visited the Czech Republic in 1997. A whole family over there. I knew nothing. I saw pictures of my mother as a child, he dead brother…’ Mira started walking again.

‘Mira, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. I won’t lie though, I don’t get it. Everything and everyone near and dear to me is here and in Japan. I don’t get it…’

‘It’s difficult to appreciate, even for me,’ she said, brushing s wayward strand behind her ear. ‘I remember wondering why my mum would be so sad on her birthday. Every year, we would try so hard to cheer her up; me, Milan, Dad. Every year, the same thing. She would sit quietly in her room. And it wasn’t until that trip that I realise why. We never understand why she was so sad.’

‘They were twins weren’t they?’ Mira began to tear up.

‘We have it pretty good here. No need to run away on a boat. No need to leave almost everything for the idea of a better life.’ I put my arms around her and she hugged me back. The cigarette had been flicked away.

I think I’ll go get that bottle of wine.