phone

the newer supernatural nephew's sidekick was crying the other day and word on the street is this had to do with me. me and the sweetie. now, i'm not saying folks are saying it's our fault. i'm just saying we were involved. if i had to think about where to lay some blame for the tears of this small child, i'd be looking square in the direction of that supernatural child himself. i'm not saying he did something mean. i'm just saying this whole mess started with him.

it all started with a phone call. actually, somehow it probably started quite a few years ago with a phone call to the original supernatural nephew. you see, small children, especially those with unusualnesses to them, love talking on the phone. especially long distance. the problem is they tend to find it difficult to have long conversations with adults on the phone because of the way adults communicate. always asking ridiculous questions. how's the weather out there? did you have fun on your birthday? and each supernatural child develops his or her own coping mechanism which allows for long distance communication while avoiding all but a few of the time-wasting pleasantries of adult conversation. let me show you how the orignal supernatural nephew managed it.

him: hello.
me: hi! how are you? what have you been up to? is it still cold there?
him: it's not too cold. ummmm.... mayipleasetalktomaxandguthrieplease?
me: sure.
him:...
max and guthrie: bark bark bark bark bark bark
him: giggles
what followed every time was a completely relaxed and normal conversation between a small boy and two dogs over the phone. at the end he would tell them both he loved them, then would say bye. to them. not necessarily to me.

i do not know whether the original nephew mentioned this to the newer one. i do not know for sure that he explained to the smaller child about the necessity of some small conversation with adults as a way to gain access to better conversation elsewhere. but the small child knows. and he has begun to manage this his own way.

when he talks to me on the phone his answers are short and quick. i'm eating ice cream. i played the drums. the sweetie sometimes gets slightly more information. things about going outside, seeing birds. they end with iloveyoubye. and this is because, although he really does love us, we do not have appropriate communication skills. we are exhausting to deal with in real time. in the real world. the idea of us, however, is wonderful. the idea of us is worth spending some time on.

let me explain. this child and his sidekick spend at least some part of most weekdays at the home of a woman i have known as "aunt rita" for nearly three quarters of my own life. if you walk one house down from where the nephew's mother and aunt and i grew up, turn right and walk down a few houses you would be able to see them there on the left, playing their strange small-child games.

this is where the idea of us trumps us entirely. the two boys occupy long stretches of time by making long distance phone calls on objects others might not be able to identify as working phones. this is one of the benefits of being supernatural. you can do that. now, i don't know how they account for every second of their phone calling time. i don't know the names of everyone they visit. but i do know they visit me and i know they visit the sweetie.

i have it from extremely reliable sources (you would be hard-pressed to find two better truth tellers than this child's mother and rita) that these two boys planned an entire road trip (or maybe an ll-conceived flight) from the very interior of the country all the way out to the crispy edge in brooklyn. this trip was organized completely via imaginary phone conversations with us. sure. occasionally he has mentioned visiting in real conversations and so have we. but the planning? the inclusion of his sidekick in all travel plans? there are phone conversations he had with a me whose words he got to chose. reports have surfaced of an angry conversation he had with me one day where it seems he had something terribly important to tell the sweetie and i didn't have the good sense to get off the phone and hand it over to the rightful owner. and this is the part that gets me. his phone conversations with the imaginary friend versions of us are accurate. he knows us. he knows us well enough to talk to us whether we are there or not.

and now we are back to the sidekick and his tears. the supernatural child reported to his mother that the sidekick had been crying during the day. when asked what happened his response was simple. he didn't get to speak to me or the sweetie on the phone that day. and here's where i start to suspect the supernatural child had a hand in the crying. i am pretty sure this magical phone that connects these two little missouri boys to brooklyn regularly is under the care and control of the supernatural nephew. and i am sure that his sidekick, having read the rules and regulations in the sidekick manual he got his first day on the job, knows he can't just haul off and use that special phone without checking first. and i am imagining a conversation where the sidekick mentions he needs to talk to the sweetie about something. or to me. maybe to check about what sort of jacket to bring for a visit in late spring or early summer. maybe a question about shoes for hiking. and there's the nephew shaking his head saying, "not right now. we have too many things to do. besides, i've got all that taken care of." he is not trying to make the child sad. he is simply focused on their misson. and the sidekick, knowing someday he will move on and be something other than a sidekick, someone with his own phone line to brooklyn, slumps in one of those tiny chairs or maybe just flattens himself out on the floor and waits for the tears.