Page 19 of Echoes of a Silent Song
CALLUM SANKonto his sofa with a sigh that came from somewhere deep in his bones.Finally,finally, the first week of school had ended and he could clear his mind of all things Peterson High.No five thirty alarm tomorrow morning.No hordes of truculent teenagers.No prickly pianist and her perpetually arched eyebrow.Just blissful solitude.
Well, not quite blissful.Not yet.Right now he was exhausted to the point of numbness.The spring poking through the cheap fabric of his secondhand sofa and into his right thigh barely even registered as he reached for the remote and pointed it at the TV.Nothing sounded better right now than a deliciously awful movie.Bad CGI sharks would be ideal.Bonus if it involved a helicopter crash.In fact, maybe he—
His phone buzzed on the table beside him, and Callum’s stomach did a nosedive.Probably Ralph again.His agent had been calling and texting since Wednesday, and Callum hadn’t had the heart to answer.Ralph Winters symbolized his old life.His creative life, where both music and money flowed and everything was as it should be.Ralph’s repeated attempts at communication were yet another reminder of how the mighty had fallen.
The buzzing wouldn’t let up, though, and finally Callum glanced through the slew of texts.Yep.Ralph.
Callum, I need to talk to you.Call me.
Or don’t.Text.Email.Smoke signals.Whatever.
This is serious.I don’t just want you to call me back because I miss the melodious sound of your voice.
Okay, fine, I DO miss the melodious sound of your voice.BUT ALSO.
CALLUM GAMALIEL KNIGHT THIS IS A LITERAL EMERGENCY.WITH BLOOD AND EVERYTHING.
As Callum stared at the screen, another message popped up.
Yes, I know I middle-named you, but that is how DIRE this emergency is and you need to CALL ME RIGHT NOW because obviously you’ve got your phone in your hand and nothing else to do.
DID I MENTION THE BLOOD?
Callum sighed again.Might as well rip off the Band-Aid and get this over with so he could get back to his scintillating evening plans with the sharks.
Ralph answered partway through the first ring.“I knew the blood bit would get you.”
“It was actually the Gamaliel part,” Callum replied.“Not that it was wise to share that information with you.”
“On the contrary, my friend, it was brilliant.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”A cheer arose in the background.
Callum frowned.“Wait, are you at Fenway right now?Please tell me you’re not at Fenway.”
“I am indeed at Fenway.Where you’d be too, if you hadn’t abandoned ship and moved to the middle of nowhere.”
Callum rolled his eyes.“I’m already in agony, Ralph.Don’t make me hate you even more.”
“Job not treating you so well?”
Callum sank back, another spring poking him in the left side of his ribs.Lord, haste the day when my budget allows for real furniture again.“It’s fine.It’s just ...it’s a lot.”
“Trading Red Sox season tickets for a passel of small-town Illinois teenagers?”Ralph made a shuddering noise through the phone.“I can’t imagine.”
“You know I had no choice.”
“Listen.”The background noise dulled.Ralph must’ve escaped into the relative quiet of the concourse.
If Callum closed his eyes, he could almost smell the Tasty Burger.
“I’m not calling as your agent right now.I’m calling as your friend.”
Callum let out a chuckle.“Yeah, right.It’s a middle-name, claims-of-actual-blood emergency because you’re checking on me as a friend?”
“Okay, you got me.I’m mostly checking to see how your creative block is progressing—or not progressing.Because I have a possible commission for you.The University of Illinois Chamber Singers, of all things.”
