Operation Sal | Sally Face x Travis Phelps

15

The faux fur of Travis's old teddy bear was rough and tangled against the side of his cheek. He was curled on his side in bed, sinking into the aged mattress beneath him.

His bed creaked when he sat on it and the material itself was lumpy and worn down, but Travis found that it was still quite comfortable just as it was. After all, it was all he knew.

His hair was freshly washed and his teeth were brushed. Even when almost everything else in his life was freaking him out, he had this, his bedtime.

And his bedtime was so, so relaxing.

His mom's little stuffed bear was held securely to his chest like a lifeline, both of them tucked under the comforter.

Travis laid in the fetal position so his head was tucked down towards his sternum and the skin on his face brushed against the teddy bear slightly.

He was finally calm. He wondered, in the back of his mind, whether or not his mother was safe, tucked securely into bed somewhere. He wondered if she was on her own, or maybe she had a whole new family, somewhere far away.

Travis hoped that she was happy, and while he prayed that she missed him just as much as he missed her, he could accept the possibility of her having a whole new life and family elsewhere, if that was what brought her joy after all these years.

For now, he found comfort in the little bear nestled against his chin, the last thing he had of her. So much comfort, in fact, that his eyes were beginning to feel heavy, his limbs going limp, his breathing slowing down.

And then, because, of course, he couldn't have anything nice, his phone rang from underneath his pillow. The sound of the vibration made him jolt awake, scrambling to sit up and reach his hand beneath the fabric to flip open his cellphone and stare down at the name displayed across the screen.

Call incoming... Sal Fisher

   If Travis had any less self-control, he would have thrown his cell phone across the room and into the wall. Instead, in his half-asleep state of delirium and panic, he just stared at the screen blankly, thumbs hovering over the buttons with a deep feeling of unease pushing against his insides.

"Ignore it," one of the voices in his head mumbled, "It's almost 11. You should be sleeping."

"It might be important," Another voice urged, "When has Sal ever called before now?"

And even though he struggled to think of one important thing Sal would call him specifically for, he pressed the answer call button and pressed the phone to his ear, all the while feeling sick to his stomach.

"Hello?" Sal's quiet voice made his chest tighten.

Travis sat up rigidly, stuffed bear lying by his side. The comforter was still tucked loosely over his lap. "Uh, hey," He mumbled, swallowing.

"Hi, Travis," Sal's weak voice excitedly raised in pitch and then quieted, "Sorry for calling so late, I was busy all afternoon."

He sounded exhausted too, like he was slumped over, eyes half-open.

Travis folded his legs, shivering at the feeling of Sal's voice so close to his ear, "Uh, no, it's okay," He said, biting at the skin around his thumbnail.

The other end of the line was silent for a moment, two moments, three moments, until Sal spoke up again, this time timider, "Were you sleeping?" He asked gently, sounding a bit guilty.

Travis blinked down at his blanket, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes, "No," he mumbled, "not yet." He was damn close though.

   Sal hummed and Travis could hear fabric shifting suddenly, along with a slight creak, and he wondered if the blue-haired boy had laid down too.