I Am the Messenger

"Ed?"

No answer.

I'm still thinking.

"Ed?" roars Ma.

I'm stunned back into the conversation.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah...yeah, of course."

45 Edgar Street...13 Harrison Avenue...6 Macedoni Street...

"Ma, I'm sorry," I say again. "It just slipped my mind--I had a lot of pickups today. A lot of work in the city. I'll get it tomorrow, all right?"

"You sure about that?"

"I'm sure."

"You won't forget?"

"No."

"Good. Goodbye."

"Hey, wait!" I rush my voice through the phone.

She comes back. "What?"

I struggle to get the words out of my mouth, yet I have to ask her. About the card. I've decided I should really ask everyone I suspect of sending it to me. I may as well start with Ma.

"Yes, what?" she asks again, a bit louder this time.

I let the words out, each one tugging and pulling at my lips as they fight to stay in.

"Did you send me something in the mail today, Ma?"

"Like what?"

I pause a moment. "Like something small...."

"Like what, Ed? I don't really have time for this."

All right. I have to say it. "It's a playing card--the Ace of Diamonds."

There's silence at the other end. She's thinking.

"Well?" I ask.

"Well what?"

"Was it you who sent it?"

She's had enough now, I can tell. The feeling reaches a hand through the phone line and shakes me.

"Of course it wasn't me!" It's like she's retaliating for something. "Why would I bother sending you a playing card in the mail? I should have sent you a reminder to pick up"--she raises her voice to a roar again--"my goddamn coffee table!"