HamLIT [complete]

6. Super Special Secret Handshake - Edited

Original draft published November 15, 2019

Edited version published August 23, 2020

At first, nothing happens. The boys squint at the phone. Then, when they least expect it, the whole screen turns black. After a few moments of silent blackness, Ham's instinctive reaction is to tap the screen vigorously and press all of the buttons on the sides of the phone. Harry grabs Ham's wrist. "Stop," says Harry. "This is what happened last time, too. Just wait."

So Ham does wait, gnawing impatiently on his lip. But he doesn't have to wait much longer. His phone screen does not change, but, suddenly, it emits a sound. It's a man's voice. "Ham."

Ham freezes. Every part of his body is still except for his hands, which are starting to tremble.

"Ham," says the voice again.

Ham catches Harry's eye. "It's my dad's voice," he breathes.

Despite having known Ham for nearly two years, Harry never had the chance to meet Ham's dad, so he has no idea what his voice sounded like. However, he knew immediately when he saw the stricken look on Ham's face that this voice did indeed once belong to Hamilton Dane.

"Dad?" says Ham, holding the phone up to his face like it's any ordinary phone call. "Can you hear me?"

"I don't have much time left," says Hamilton Dane. "I'm making this recording from my office. It's past midnight..." The voice trails off. The speaker seems to be struggling to breathe; faint sounds of gasping escape through the phone's speakers.

Ham's shoulders droop. For a moment, he truly believed that, somewhere, his father was speaking to him in real time. Now, though, he realizes that it's only a recording. His father can't hear him. He's as dead as he ever was.

The voice continues to speak. It's no louder than a whisper - faint, raspy, and harsh. It almost sounds as if it's trying not to be heard. "Listen, I'm going to tell you to do something and you probably won't want to do it. But you have to."

Ham nods, apparently forgetting that his father isn't here to see him.

"I've been murdered. I want you to make things right."

If Ham wasn't sitting in a car, he would certainly fall out of his seat. "Murder?" he cries. Harry is silent, staring at his friend with concern and something akin to fear.

"By the time you hear this message, I'll already be dead. Luckily, I'm in my office with my desktop, and I'm going to make sure this message gets to you, but it might be delayed by a couple of weeks, if not months. I don't know how long I'll last, so I'll try to make this short. I don't know what the autopsy will say—probably heart failure, if it's what I think it is—but I've been poisoned. And I want you to know that the person who poisoned me is your uncle, Claude."

Everything is quiet. The only sound in the car is the sound of Hamilton Dane Sr.'s ragged gasps.

"Yeah, murdered by own brother. It sounds crazy, but it's true. I was working late on my computer in my office and he came in with a cup of coffee. I should've known then that something was going on—he hasn't done anything that nice for me in years—but I was so tired, so I took it. I knew immediately that he put something in it. I think Claude didn't want to see my last few minutes, because he just left the room. I don't know when he's coming back and I don't know how much time I have left before I'm dead, but I don't think I'll make it through the night. I know what he's trying to do. He'll take my company. And he'll take Gretchen. I always told myself that it wasn't true, but you'd have to be an idiot not to see that he's had a thing for her since 1985."