CHAPTER ONE: Frederick

October 22nd, 2013

Fred Hawthorne stood in his kitchen with the landline receiver to his ear. He considered whether he would cave and upgrade to a smartphone. Everyone caved eventually, he thought. He had to be strong. They’re all followers. With their statuses, their check-ins, their little posts everywhere they went, Fred couldn’t be like them. He’d rather buy another flip phone. Besides, who wants to pay extra for data. Scam!

After six rings, Fred heard a click followed by a sigh. “Hello?”

“Uh, hi.” Did Fred have the wrong number?

“Hi?” the female voice sounded aggravated. “Who is this?”

Did he call the wrong number? He looked at the landline's screen to confirm that he had dialed his own number. He had. “No," he said. "Who’s this? You have my phone.”

“Oh!” Her voice brightened as if she had been hoping for his call. “Hi! I’m Leila. Who are you?”

“Uh… I’m Fred.”

“Fred?”

“Yeah?” Fred replied. “Something wrong?”

“No, it’s just kind of a strange name. Like some old person’s name… like Ralph or Walter or… Morris or something.”

Fred laughed. He’d never heard that one. “It’s my grandfather’s name.”

“Exactly! That’s what I mean. Like an old person’s name. Grandpa Frederick!”

“What makes you think I’m not old?”

“Oh, I saw your picture on my — your phone,” Leila said.

“My phone. Right.” Fred realized he had forgotten the context of the call. “Where did you find it? The gym?”

“What if I stole it?”

“You stole my phone?”

“I didn’t say that Frederick!” Instead of saying Fred-drick, like most people, she over pronounced his name by saying Fred-er-rick. “I found it at the gym,” Leila said. “Or… maybe I stole it from you at the gym. Who knows?”

Fred sighed. “Okay… Well, can I have it back? Stole it, found it, I need my phone back.”

“Eh, I might keep it.”

“Come on,” Fred said. “Seriously?”

“Oh, I’m serious, Frederick.” Leila lowered her tone to match Fred’s. She was mocking him. 

“Okay, so you’re stealing my phone?”

“A flip phone?” She overemphasized a sigh. “Not sure it’s worth the jail time. I might give it back, but… wait… if you’re not an old guy, why don’t you have a smartphone?”

“I don’t need a smartphone,” he said.

“But how will you update your status?” Leila asked with fake concern.

Fred bit his bottom lip. “People can call me if they want my status.”

“Wait, wait… Frederick… did you call me on a landline?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh. My. God! You are an old dude!” Leila gasped into Fred’s ear. “How old’s this pic on your phone? Like from 1970?”

“It was a month ago, I’m twenty-five!” Fred wasn’t sure whether to laugh or yell. “And, hey… stop going through my phone. Can you just — can you give it back?”

“No.”

Fred swung his head back and groaned.

“Don’t worry, Frederick,” Leila said. “Now you can go get a smartphone and I can check your status. Right now your status would say, ‘My name is Frederick. I’m a cranky old man with a landline, listening to my records and watching my program on the television set.’” She snickered at her own joke.

“What’s with people and their statuses, anyway?” Fred motioned to his empty kitchen as if addressing a crowd. “I mean who gives a shit? Smartphones are so annoying. It’s everywhere I go, everyone’s on their smartphone. In line at the bank, at the supermarket, walking down the sidewalk, at the gym! The gym? We get it, you work out! Why must you share it with everyone? Live your life!”

There was a silence.

“Whoa, Frederick… are you all right?” Leila said. “Did a smartphone touch you inappropriately when you were a child?”

He laughed.

They laughed. 

“You know,” Fred said. “I went online the other day and this girl’s status said ‘at the hospital, dot-dot-dot, sad face.’ It’s like… can’t you just be?”

“Ha!” Leila clapped. “Oh my God, so true. They never tell you why they’re there either. The status is always so ominous and vague and people are forced to be like ‘Oh my gosh Jen, what happened?’ Uh, okay! We all see through your little cry for attention, Jen!”

“Oh it’s the worst! And they never respond either. Like thanks Jen, leave us all hanging like a couple of assholes. Thanks a lot. See… why would I want a smartphone? Who needs more of that?” Fred smiled, excited by the sudden bond they had formed over their hatred of fictional Jen. Perhaps he had won her over and he would get his phone back. Something more could come from this too… Maybe he and Leila would meet…

He sat down at his kitchen table.

“Who’s Beth?”

Shit.

“What — who? Excuse me?” Fred said. 

“Frederick,” Leila said. “Don’t lie to me. Who’s Beth?”

“She—she’s no one, just a friend.”

“She doesn’t seem like just a friend.”

“Wait,” Fred said. “Are you going through my texts?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Can you stop? That’s it! I want my phone back. Do I have to call the police?” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Leila said. “I won’t tell anyone how you really feel about Beth.”

“Excuse me? You don’t know anything about me and Beth, okay?”

“She’s just a little sidepiece to you, isn’t she?”

“Whoa, come on now.”

“I mean, do you really want to be ‘together’ with her as she so lamely put it? I don’t think you do, Frederick. No…  no, you’re a bad boy, aren’t you?” The way she emphasized ‘bad boy,’ made Fred’s stomach burn. It was fake and theatrical, almost ridiculous, but it made him stir. He wondered what Leila looked like. “You want to be a free agent, don’t you?" she said. "I can respect that.”

Her diagnosis was accurate, he could admit it. “Well," he said. "What about you? Are you a free agent?”

“I don’t think I’m your type, Frederick.”

Fred’s heart sank. The physical reaction was surprising, but this was his territory. How many times had Fred painted a fantasy in his head while talking to a girl at the bar? How many times did they, with casual precision, erase that fantasy with the random mention of their boyfriend? This was how it worked. The other shoe always dropped. If it wasn’t a boyfriend, it was the friend zone. If it wasn’t the friend zone, it was that classic line, “you’re like a brother to me!” His budding fantasies of what-Leila-could-be were no different. Still, he would play to win his phone back. “Why aren’t you my type?” he asked. “What is it? I’m too honest? Too law abiding?”

“Seems like you’re into boring girls.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’ve seen your pics of Beth.” Leila’s voice sank in concern. “With the cardigans… Its sad, actually. I feel bad for her. I mean, she’s okay—”

“That’s not nice, that’s—she’s a nice person. And she’s very pretty. We just… we got in a fight last night, so things are on the rocks or whatever.”

“I can see that! It’s sad, Frederick. She wants a cute little relationship and you want to be free,” Leila said with whimsy.

“Well kinda, but we’re just—”

Leila gasped, startling Fred. “Oh my! You won’t believe this!” Leila was ecstatic. “Bethy’s calling right now!”

Fred shot up from his kitchen table, his chair screeched behind him. “Don’t pick it up!” 

“I think I should,” Leila said.

“Stop it! Stop!”

“Frederick, it’s the right move. Bethy needs to know she’s just another notch on the ole belt.”

“Wait—”

“No, she needs to know. I gotta do it for all women. I have to do it for, what’s that word? Solidarity!”

“Stop it, Leila! Please!”

“It’s the moral thing to do, Freddy.”

“Oh, so now you have morals? How about you give me my phone back!”

“I gotta tell her—”

“Leila, please! I’m begging you!” He was. “Don’t do this! I––I’m a dick! I––I get it, but–but she doesn’t deserve that!”

There was a pause. A sigh. “Oh Frederick, relax. I’m not gonna pick up her call.”

Fred dropped back into his chair and exhaled. “Oh my God, thank you.” 

Leila laughed.

“What?” Fred said. “What’s so funny?”

“I was right!” She piled on another round of chuckles. “I was right about you two, I can’t believe it. I’m like psychic or something.”

Fred slapped his kitchen table. “Give me my phone back!”

“Oh Frederick, come on,” she said in a babying voice. The voice reignited a fire in Fred’s belly. “Aren’t you having fun talking to me?” 

Despite the unknown, he was having fun. The conversation felt somehow illegal, the fun kind of illegal. His entire torso cooked with desire. The sly rasp in her voice tingled in his ear. He imagined her lips against his cell phone, lush and red.

Fred knew better, though.

She was likely in a room full of other people, mocking him. She’d hang up any minute now, and he would never get his phone back. He had to be smart. He had to appeal to her empathetic side. 

If she had one.

“Look, I—,” he had to speak with precision. Start light. Be sincere. “I am having fun, okay? If you can believe it, I really am. I just… I think I’d feel better with my phone back. I’ve got lots of numbers in there and pictures and… honestly, I don’t want to get a new phone,” he said. “Those salesmen, they’re so annoying. They’ll make me get a smartphone and then those memories… those memories of what the smartphone did to me as a child… they’ll all come flooding back… it’ll be traumatizing.” Fred snickered, hoping she’d appeal to the fact that he was asking nicely and making jokes. There was only silence. He felt it coming. The win. 

“Nope.”

“Wait, what? Come on! Screw it, I’ll give you money!”

“Hmm, how much?” she asked.

“I-I don’t know,” Fred said. “Twenty bucks?”

“Twenty bucks? For a flip phone? You’re wildly over-attached to this phone, Frederick. Bethy would be jealous.”

“Look, look, look.” Fred raised out his hand as if to quell some invisible beast. “I just need my phone back, okay? I don’t know you and I don’t know what you’ll do. That’s the truth. I––I like Beth and, yes, I’m unsure of things and I’m probably leading her on, you’re right, but I don’t want you to tell her that. I need to tell her. You don’t seem like a complete lunatic. You’ve got to have some reason, some rationale, right?”

“Aww,” Leila said, “You’re so sweet.”

“You know I’m joking. Point is, I need it back. I’m a nice guy. I swear! I won’t call the cops or anything, even if you did steal it. I just want it back. I’ll give you money if I have to.”

“I didn’t steal your phone,” Leila said. “I found it at the gym. I’m just having some fun with you. Can't a girl have a little fun?” She appeared genuine for the first time. It was disarming. “I’ll give it back, Frederick. How about we meet in the gym parking lot?”

“Really?” Fred said.

“Well, on second thought, I’m a little tired—”

“Oh, come on!”

“I’m kidding! Relax! Wouldn’t want you to have a stroke. I’ll meet you in a half hour,” Leila said. She sounded almost excited. Or perhaps Fred just hoped she was excited.

“Thank you!” Fred realized the irony that he was now thanking her for giving him his own phone back, but he didn’t care. There was a twirl in his body; a tingling sensation, like sparks falling away from a firework. He was electrified.

“See you soon.” The phone clicked.

When she hung up, it hurt. There was an emptiness. He looked at the receiver and smiled. The anticipation was sensational, although he wouldn’t get his hopes up. 

His eyes shot up to the microwave clock. He couldn’t screw this up. He had a half hour to shower, dress, and get to the gym. Before leaving the house, he’d put on the good cologne that Beth had given him for his birthday.

Whatever it took, Fred would arrive on time.