The Voice of Caroline

Chapter 6 - Caroline

Gordie hadn't expected to hear from Caroline again.

Difficult as it was, he had tried to get her voice out of his head. But he couldn't shake the feeling she was in trouble. Gordie knew it wasn't his job to help her but was it just a coincidence she had called him? And not say the Polish deli down the street.

Then one day after school Gordie was sitting at the kitchen table working on an English paper when the ringing of the phone again startled him.

Since that day two weeks ago when Caroline had called, the phone on the wall hadn't rung once. He knew it had to be her.

Still, he got up slowly and let it ring a few more times before answering.

"Hello."

Silence.

"Is this Caroline?" he asked.

"How did you know?" she asked, surprised.

"No one else calls this number. I guess you're still looking for your friend."

She sighed, "Yes, I was hoping I had just dialed wrong the last time."

"The number was right; sorry you keep getting me instead of who you're looking for."

"That's okay. I'm beginning to think it's a lost cause."

"I'm Gordie by the way. Gordie Burnside."

"Caroline Dexter. But I guess you already knew that."

Gordie nodded then remembered she couldn't see him, "Yeah, so why is it so important for you to find this friend?"

"He's not really a friend," Caroline sheepishly admitted.

"I figured."

She laughed, "He's, my uncle."

"Then shouldn't you know where he is?"

"We've never met."

"Why not?"

"My mom ran away when she was sixteen. She never told her family about me. But I came across some mail from her brother so that's how I knew he existed and why I'm trying to find him."

"What will finding him change?"

"My circumstances."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm in foster care. My mom is an addict. She's in prison right now."

Gordie absorbed that information for a moment.

"That's rough," he finally said.

"I just want to belong somewhere you know. My mom never cared about me. It was always about the drugs and when she could get high again. This is my fifth foster home in two years! I'm tired of moving. I just want to stay put and not have to worry when I'll be uprooted again."

"Do you make friends easily?"

"That's an odd question," she said.

"Do you?"

"I guess I've gotten better at it from moving so much. But there is nobody that I would call my best friend. No one's stuck after all these years."

"Everyone keeps telling me you need friends to belong."

"You don't think that's true?"

"I guess it depends on where you want to belong and if it's more important to be accepted or be who you are."

"Sometimes that's a fine line."

"Yeah," he agreed, "So are you going to keep looking for your uncle?"

"I want to, but I've hit a bit of a dead end. I've called every Doug Dexter in the phone book and gotten nowhere."

"But don't you know where he lives? You said you came across some mail from him."

"Yes, first I tried writing, but the letter was returned back to me unopened."

"Where are you calling from?"

"Maryland, about an hour from D.C."

"I'm an hour the opposite way."

"Virginia?"

"Yes. Have you tried looking up if he owns or works for a business? Maybe they can help you get in touch with your uncle."

"No, I haven't tried that! That's a good idea!"

"Maybe you could call back if you find something out." Gordie tentatively asked. He was invested enough now he would like to know how things turned out for her.

"Okay that or I'll need more suggestions."

"I can help with that too!"

"Well, I'd better go. My foster mom will be home soon, and she'll throw a fit if she sees me using her phone."

"Okay, bye, Caroline."

"Bye, Gordie, thanks again!"

She hung up.

Gordie replaced the receiver on the wall just as Grandpa Arnie hobbled into the kitchen with his cane and a bag of half-eaten Doritos under his arm.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"Just a friend," Gordie replied, resuming his seat at the table.

"Which friend?"

"You don't know her."

Grandpa Arnie eyed him carefully then set the Doritos down next to Gordie.

"I don't think you do either."

Gordie looked up at his grandfather.

"That phone never rings. And I would know!"

"What's your point?"

"Just be careful."

"You don't have to worry about that with me."

Grandpa Arnie sat down.

"It's not you I'm worried about."