Alice Doesn’t Live There Anymore: a Wake Up Call

Thursday morning, 4:57. The phone jumps around on the night table, buzzing like a hornet.

JSC: Hello?

AD: Hi there.

JSC: What? What’s that?

AD: Jeffrey, is that you?

JSC: Yes, of course. Who’s calling? You know this is Oregon, right? Pacific time zone. You east coast reporters have been ringing all week before dawn.

AD: I’m so sorry to disrupt your slumbers again, but this is Alice…

JSC: Alice? Alice who?

AD: Oh, come now, you’ve been waiting for me to call, haven’t you? You wrote how anxious you were to hear my voice.

JSC: Stop being coy. I’m trying to sleep. Wait a minute…

AD: It’s coming to you now, isn’t it?

JSC: Alice, Alice Don…

AD: Yes. Donovan, Alice Donovan.

JSC: Hell! Where’s my damn notebook…

AD: I read those awful papers and decided I’d give you a ring. Thought you might need some consoling. You were so nice to send me your number, even though you sounded a trifle desperate in your last note.

JSC: It’s been a crazy week. Alice, is this really you?

AD: Would I lie to you, Jeffrey?

JSC: Well….

AD: Have a little faith. People have been saying you’re so trusting. Trusting to a fault that St. Clair is … a real dupe.

JSC: But…

AD: But now you sound suspicious. I was hoping for a warmer reception. I guess you really, really want to see that water bill with my name on it, don’t you? Hilarious. I thought you were joking. It’s such a dull request. So pedestrian. Where’d you come up with that one? The Columbia School of…

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