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Hayley Ng || Fall 2024

Hey Mikey. It’s Callum. As always. 

How've you been, man? 

I hope you haven’t died yet, heh, y’know? Dunno what you’ve been up to since last I called, but I guess you’d want to keep it that way. Just so long as I don't see your name in the headlines again, alright? Once was enough. 

I do hope you’re doing alright and you ain't like, stealing, or some shit, Mikey—Pops taught us better than that. Though, I get it, man, especially if it’s food. Just…just be careful, alright? Like, if you get caught and fuckin’, die, then someone might just come and steal that burner phone of yours and then hear my voice message and then they’d think how tragic it is that you never got to hear your brother’s voice again or his message and then they die from the sadness. Or grief. Or something like that. Either way, make sure you got someplace warm to sleep. I mean, living under a bridge probably isn’t gonna be that comfy but, hey, if it keeps you out of the rain and snow, I guess. Or maybe you can put those Boy Scouts skills to good use, y’know, make a nice, little lean-to out in the woods. Pad it out with moss or leaves and stuff, that'll keep it warm. Or maybe someone’s actually been putting up with your homeless ass and letting you stay inside overnight in exchange for some work. 

I dunno. 

But, uh, yeah. 

Hey, I know it's been a while since last time I called, but Ma told me—which means she probably would have wanted to tell you as well—that the old playground near our, uh, our old house—the one that had that little hidey-hole under the slide that you fell asleep in that one time when we played hide-and-seek with your friends? Yeah, that one. They’re taking it down. Crazy, I know. They're putting more housing there or something, I dunno, probably another apartment. 

It’s a shame, y’know. The playground wasn’t that bad. I remember you hit your head on one of the poles—from the swing, I think—when we were playing tag with some of my friends, heh, but like the tire swing was pretty cool. I used to spin you on that for hours. And then Ma would come and put us both on the swing and push us. 

Good times. 

Have, have you tried calling Ma yet? She, uh…she's finally stopped setting plates of food at your seat during dinner, but I mean, she was only doing it, like, once a week last time I called. And it's not like she's in any condition to continue doing that, especially now. Remember how I told you she would do that every night the first few months after you got out? Yeah, that was kinda crazy. We were all hoping that you, uh, that you'd show up.

Instead, Ajax got pretty fat because he'd keep sneaking food off your plate when we weren't looking. Hard to get between him and a good sausage link, y'know? He's cut down a lot now; vet had us put him on a diet. 

He keeps doing that though, sitting at your seat at the table. Even more so now, probably because of what happened during Than—Oh! Shit, man, let me tell you, this Thanksgiving—right after Ma got her, her diagnosis, but was still doing her plate thing for you—Aunt Betty kept bitchin’ about how Ma was wasting food, right? Saying some shit like how she wouldn't have even let you step one foot onto our property and that you were now “irredeemable under the eyes of the Lord”—unbelievable, right? Can't believe Ma just let her talk as long as she did. Anyway, Aunt Betty was in the middle of her Bible rant when Ma picked up Ajax and plopped him onto your seat. He nearly knocked the plate over with how fast he was eating, and oh man, you should've seen the look on that bitch’s face. Funniest shit I've ever seen. Thought she was gonna drop with how white she went, y’know? Like, clutching her pearls and everything, man, you, you should’ve—

You should've been there, Mikey.

Hey.

You know that what you did…it was an accident, right? Middle of the damn night, Mikey. There's no way you could've seen her. I kept telling you to change your headlights before—could barely see shit with those—but even if you got the brightest set out there, there was probably nothing you could do, alright? So…just come home already. It's been rough without you here, man. Ma stopped putting out plates, but I, I catch her sometimes, y'know, with this look on her face when she's watching the morning and evening news in bed. Like she's waiting for something. Pa, too; I remember during Thanksgiving, after what Aunt Betty said, he said he'd deal with her, but he hasn't even done anything yet. He's been working late these past couple months and just comes home and crashes out, straight to sleep. Sometimes even in his own bed. I don't know. Everything's been pretty shitty in this house, man. If you'd just come home already, everything would be better. Maybe…maybe even Ma.

I know, I know—that's not how shit works. But…her doctor keeps giving her pills and stuff but she barely eats anymore and she's been sleeping a lot because of the pain. I can understand you not coming home because you're afraid or some shit, but come on, Mikey. I know you can do the math. I told you about her diagnosis 3 months ago! She's, she's fuckin’—she might fuckin’ die, and the only thing you care about is your own damn pride, Mikey. So what if Aunt Betty and the rest of her family don't like you anymore? Neither of us liked them anyway. Are you really not gonna show your face to Ma before she's gone? She's our mom, man. She was here, leaving out plates of food for your stupid ass, and you're not even gonna say goodbye to her.

Y'know what? Fuck you, Mikey. If, if you hadn't fucked up, none of us would be in this situation. You wouldn't be out there, freezing your balls off, maybe starving yourself to death, and I…

I…

….fuck, God, Mikey, I’m sorry. I just—

I don't—

…I, I shouldn't have said all that.  It's just…it's been a lot, trying to care for Ma for these last few…these last few…

Yeah.

Hah.

Y'know, listen, sometimes—

Sometimes I forget that I'm older than you. That I'm supposed to be the one who should deal with all, all of this. Not you. 

You're still a fuckin’ piece of shit for not coming home, y'know? 

But fuck me as well, right, Mikey? 

Happy Thanksgiving, Mikey. Happy Birthday. Merry Christmas. And Happy New Year. Pa misses you too, even though he doesn't say it. It's gonna get real cold out there; weatherman said it might snow tonight, but maybe you’re not even in our area. Or maybe you are. Stop by the old playground when you have time. Maybe, if it's still there, you can sleep in that hidey-hole again like before—might make for some good cover. 

And, uh, if…if you ever decide to come home, I'll…I'll make sure there's a plate of hot food for ya. I ain't the best of cooks, but the food'll be hot. 

And it'll be there.

Stay alive out there, Mikey. I'll, I'll talk to you later. 

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