Hello Monday

Part 24; 9:59 am

Beep... beep...

Then it stops. The beeps stop. That means someone is at the other end of the line.

"Hello?" I say hurriedly. "I need your help. Dr. Sanders told me to call this number and—"

Hello, Linette.

I hold a hand over my mouth as the tears that gathered in my eyes fall. I can recognize that voice anywhere, anytime.

"Dr. Sanders?" I mumble into my hand, more happy than confused. "Doctor, where are you? I'll come get you—"

The fact that you are calling this number means that something has happened to me.

I stop talking when I realize that no one is at the other end of the line. I close my mouth and push the handset impossibly closer to my ear, grasping on to every single word that comes out of the speaker.

Remember the first time we met? When I said hello and you walked away from me. I laugh through teary eyes at the memory. That would have pushed most people away, but it strangely did not affect me at all. Instead, I saw a brave girl, more determined than anyone else I know. You were very determined, to the point that it was very hard for me to talk to you, much less become your friend. I am glad that I got through your thick walls, though. You have not only become a friend, Linette. You have become a daughter to me. Who would have thought, huh? The crazy doctor and the new student. Buddies for life, she laughs.

We are buddies for life, Linette, but life does not last forever, she says somberly. Someday, life will be taken away from me. It will also be taken away from you. The only difference is that my end is closer than yours. It should be. You still have so much to live for, so go to the moon for me, will you? Go to any university you want, get a good job, find a good man, get married, have kids, and it does not end there, Linette. You will be a student, a teacher, a doctor, a lawyer; you will be anything and everything for your children. I am hoping that all those are what I have been to you. I know one year is not a lot to get to know a person, but it was plenty of time for me to get to know you.

I suck in a breath and vigorously wipe my cheeks.

I may not know the little details: what genre you like to read, or what kind of boys you like, she snickers, or what type of ice cream is your favorite. However, Linette, I do know this. You are courageous, tenacious, and kind. You are humble, beautiful inside out and simply one of a kind. You are everything I have always wanted to be. I am glad I met you, my dear.

I sob and crouch on the floor, hugging myself.

One more thing you are, is that you are a bright girl. I know you never believe me when I tell you this, but Linette, you are the brightest star I have ever seen. I need you to shine for me.

I only ask that you do two things for me, yeah? First things first, the project. I had a feeling that this project would literally be the death of me. It is just too good to be true. I still do not know what the catch of this project is, but I figured out the first few steps of this experiment with an eight percent accuracy. I know it is not much, but it is a step in the right direction. When this percentage reaches at least eighty percent, it can change the whole world. Incurable diseases will no longer exist, Dr. Sanders explains animatedly.

So listen carefully as I read you the methodology. You will not find this anywhere else but here, so listen carefully.

I nod at the empty space before me, feeling the need to physically tell Dr. Sanders that I am. I am listening.

I take mental notes as she draws me a picture of the experiment through her words. She vividly describes the process, enabling me to imagine what comes after the other. She uses a lot of complicated words, but somehow I manage to carve it all into my brain. I listen so hard that I won't be surprised if by the end of this call, I can repeat the methodology word for word.

After Dr. Sanders brings me through the whole process one by one, she takes me through her potential errors, creating the low accuracy. I nod along, making some hypotheses of my own.

Despite what people say about me, I do like working with people. Or precisely, I like working with you, Linette. You open my eyes and give me solutions that I would never have thought of. I know this will be hard, but I am asking that you continue to do this without me. Correct my mistakes and use this project for the betterment of the future. Do not let it fall into the wrong hands. The fact that you are listening to this recording means that it did fall into the wrong hands. And I trust no one else with this information but you. Do not make the same mistakes I did, Linette.

She briefly pauses.

I leave all this in your hands now; what you do with this is entirely up to you. You are a bright girl, Linette. I trust you.

Another pause. A little longer this time.

The next thing I want you to do for me... is to stop blaming yourself. I know you, girl, and I know that you might think all of this is your fault, but let me tell you that whatever happened to me has nothing to do with you. So I want you to remember the first time we met. When I said hello and you walked away from me. I need you to do the same thing again.

Walk away from me, Linette.

Dr. Sanders sucks in a heavy breath. Walk into your future, and leave me in the past. I promise, this time, I won't stop you. I won't try to force my way back into your life. You stand straight, chin up, and be confident when you take your steps. Be happy; if not today, tomorrow. That's all I ask of you.

The streams of tears that pour out of my eyes flow faster than my heartbeat. All the pain I'm feeling gushes down my cheeks.

And Linette, I may not know your favorite ice cream flavor, but I sure do know your favorite snack. Stop sneaking Doritos into classes, will you? she ends with a laugh. Then I hear nothing else but the never-ending beep.

I drop the handset down, letting it hang loose by its wire, inches off of the ground. I hug my knees closer to my chest, pouring my heart out into my cries. A great sob escapes my mouth. I cover my face with shaking hands, desperately trying to keep quiet but failing miserably.

She's okay, she's okay, she's okay, I lie to myself.

During my crying fest, I realize one crucial thing. The recording. It is the methodology for this project. The one Victor is looking for. The one he mistakenly thought is physically visible. It's not that I didn't have it, and it's definitely not that Dr. Sanders did not trust me enough with it. I had it all along.

I just hadn't listened to it yet.