A Tavern Next to an Old Red Telephone Box

A bit of mystery wrapped in suspense by Marcelo Medone

It looked like a scene from a classic movie. A lonely pier in a small beachfront town and an old red telephone box out of service on a cloudy fall afternoon. The instructions had been clear: “Wait in the tavern next to the red phone booth. At 6 pm. someone will contact you.”

My day had started off without a hitch. I had gotten up early and went to the bakery to buy some croissants. Then I stopped by the market and bought a bag of oranges. I couldn't resist the temptation to buy marshmallows as well, something I had made since my childhood. Coffee, croissants and juice: my favorite old bachelor breakfast.

I put on a Miles Davis record and started listening to his marvelous Blue in Green. At that moment a message came to my cell phone. It was my old partner in the engineering company that we had founded six years ago and that we had closed by mutual agreement months later, when our big project failed due to lack of investors. Instead of a marble plaque in the corporate hall of fame, we had obtained a headstone.

I tried calling back Duncan, but he didn't answer. His message was more than enigmatic: “The past is not dead.”

My relationship with Duncan had also ended for more personal reasons, when my girlfriend Chloe slammed the door shut and moved in with him. I must admit that I gave her enough reasons to leave, but she could have chosen another candidate.

After the closing of Warp Thrust, I no longer heard from Duncan, nor was I interested. Until today.

Then I got another message: “I need you to take the afternoon off. Urgent meeting. Bring the Reactor Warp folder.”

I feverishly rummaged through my desk, looking for the damn folder.

In the end, I found it. Fifty sheets printed with engineering diagrams.

After lunch, I got in the car and headed for the coast. It was a two-hour drive to the meeting place, with Miles Davis still ringing in my ears.

I arrived early. It was cold. I located the red telephone box and the tavern near the pier. I settled in by the front window and ordered coffee. Nobody circulated on the abandoned cobblestone street that bordered the sea. If a ship ever docked there, it wasn't that afternoon. The old red phone box stood lonely, like a beacon.

I was wondering what the hell I was doing there, at the end of nowhere, with an envelope from a dead and buried dream, when I heard a familiar voice.

“Hello stranger.”

I turned around and it was Chloe. I was dumbfounded. She was more beautiful than ever.

Before I could say a word, she covered my lips with her delicate fingers.

“I didn't know how to see you,” she told me. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

Chloe stood there, looking at me expectantly, waiting for my reaction. I still couldn't get over my astonishment at the unexpectedness of our reunion.

I looked over her shoulder and saw no one.

“And Duncan? His phone?”

“Already under the sea.”

“Duncan?” I asked alarmed.

She looked at me amused.

“No! His phone.”

Then she sat down next to me.

“Would you buy me a coffee?” she asked me, with her most wondrous smile.