The Runner (Part Five)

‘No’ she said. ‘Spell Montainge’
‘Oh, right… right’ he sat straight. ‘Montainge…M-O-T-A-…wait…no…M-O-A?-N-T…’
‘Huh?’ she deleted what she typed. ‘M-O-A-N-T ?...no way’
‘Because it’s French you see’ he uncrossed his leg. ‘M-O-N-T-A-G-H-T-T-E-K…I don’t know…look up for Godard…maybe you’ll find her there’
‘Nah’ she sat back. ‘I’ll do that next time’
‘Her mother died at 54’ he reached over to the pack.
‘What?’ she said. ‘Godard’s mother?’
‘No, no, Godard’s a guy’ he pulled out another stick. ‘Montainge’s mother’
‘Can we just get over this Montainge thing really quick?’ she let her breath out.
‘Yah…yah…you see’ he lit the cigarette real quick. ‘Montainge’s mother died at the age of 54…and now that Montainge has just become 54 herself…she’
‘How’s your wife?’ she cut his story short.
‘Huh?’ he said. ‘Who?’
‘Your wife’ she crossed her legs and placed her hand in between them.
‘My wife?’ he exhaled. ‘She just turned 30’
Uh huh’ she waited for a while for details, but didn’t get any. ‘Does she …erm…know about your…erm…condition?’
‘My con…ugh…di…ugh…ugh…ugh…tion?’ he choked.
‘Yah, the prank calling thing’ she said.
‘Uh huh’ he cleared his throat. ‘Does she know about what?’
‘Does she know about your prank calling condition?’ she sandwiched her hand in between the legs tighter.
‘You mean does she know about Catholaphia?’ he took another drag.
‘Yah’ she let her hand stay where it was.
‘Yah’ he exhaled.
‘Does she mind?’ she breathed heavier.
‘Erm…no’ he let the cigarette sit on the ashtray. ‘She doesn’t know…I don’t think she would like to know either’
‘Huh?’ she breathed insignificantly heavier. ‘You don’t talk to your wife?’
‘I’ve already told her too much’ he looked at the cigarette reducing in size. ‘And there really isn’t any need for her to know about my condition…especially…you know…the condition might provoke a certain kind of…uncertainty’
‘Uh huh’ a lungful of air went in to the receiver.
‘You know…’ he looked at the cigarette insignificantly reduced in size. ‘Like being suspicious and all that…’
‘Is your wife…ermm’ she inhaled. ‘deeply asleep or something?’
‘What do you mean?’ he put his free hand on top of his head.
‘Where’s your wife?’ she let her hand quietly slipped inside the skirt.
‘She’s at this…err’ he picked up the burning cigarette. ‘trumpet class’
‘Trumpet class huh’ she looked at her colleague reading from the bible. She pulled herself closer to the desk. ‘Is she good?’
‘Huh?’ he exhaled. ‘You mean like blowing the thing?’
She giggled. ‘Uh huh’
‘She’s okay I guess’ he took another drag. ‘I’ve never seen her blow’
‘You’ve never seen her blow huh?’ a gust of air came out from her.
‘Yah’ he put out the cigarette. ‘Never’
‘Have you ever wanted to see her blow?’ she made a quick gasp.
‘No…no…not really…I would really have to talk her ear off to see her blow’ he turned to the clock. ‘Mmm…listen…I’ll just say goodbye now…you know…before I hang up on you’
‘You’re leaving?’ she paused.
‘No…I’ll still be around’ he said. ‘But…errmm… my wife will be back like any moment now…you know…and I’ll have to hang up on you… once I hear the knob turning…you see…so I thought I’ll just say it now…before I hang up on you…’
‘Oh boy’ she gave her moist fingers a little rub on her thigh
‘I can go on for a few more minutes...’ he turned to the clock again.
‘Uh’ she looked up to the ceiling and quietly let her breath out.

The weather changed. It was getting cold on his side. It was getting cold on her side too. They realized that they have not been feeling lonely until then. Something wasn’t clear, maybe they'd talk again during the next trumpet class. Or maybe they won't. They waited the knob to turn. And in this manner, nothing was said.