The Call - Eine Kurzgeschichte (englisch)

Wir mussten vor kurzem im Englisch-LK ne eigene Kurzgeschichte schreiben... Das ist dabei rausgekommen:

The Call

One dark and cloudy afternoon in an also dark and musty dig, Rat was woken up by the ringing of a phone. Still a little bit sleepy he groped for the receiver, but couldn’t find it. “Where’s that damn thing?” he grumbled. With his eyes shut he was looking for it with his hands beneath his mattress, but they only splashed into a cup filled with stubs. “Damn!” When he finally opened his eyes, he immediately found the phone lying on the cardboard which was serving as a place for him to put the few books he possessed.
“Rat here! Who disturbs?”, he growled into the receiver.
“Michael Bernard Miller! How often have I told you to answer the phone politely? Your father and I named you Michael, the same name that was given to your grandfather! I want you to show more respect to your ancestors! I want you to… Michael? Mike? Answer me!”
“Mum, why are you calling?”
“It’s my right as a mother to talk to my son, isn’t it? Do you want to take away my rights?”
“Mum, do you want to take away my right to sleep? I’m tired. Please, what’s the matter for your call?”
“Your right to sleep? Oh boy, what kind of life is that? Other people work at this time, but my son is lying in bed, blaming his mother for calling to early! Why don’t you go and find a job? I mean a real job. Buckle down to work! Do something with your life!”
“Mum, I do have a job!”
“Yes, in that ‘nice’ night bar ‘Mirage’. Don’t think that I don’t know that this is nothing but a dirty strip club.”
“Well, ohm, no! You can see erotic dancers there - that’s right! But…”
“But what?” his mother interrupted him. “That’s not your business Michael! You bring shame to the whole Miller family! Is that what you want? Make us feel ashamed of our own flesh and blood? Mike, we’ve always been there for you! You always got what you wanted! Now it’s time to give something back, don’t you think so?”
Silence.
“Michael”, she started again. “You still have the chance to come back home and tell your father that you’re sorry. He will arrange a good position for you in the firm.”
“No mum! Just no! I won’t beg for a job! I’m twenty-four! I’m satisfied with my life! Yes, I love my life! I think this is something that you can’t claim about yours!”
Rat could almost see his mother flush.
“Michael! I hope you know you went too far! Think about what I’ve told you and get in touch with us when you’ve regained consciousness! We’ve lost one son and don’t want to lose another! Good bye.”
Rat put down the receiver and yawned. It was always the same thing with his mother. She called, she beefed and hung up. From the day he left home his parents had never visited him. And he wasn’t interested in them visiting him, neither.
Still feeling bushed from the night before, he slowly moved out of his bed and staggered towards the small kitchen. This was not an easy thing to do, because the whole floor was besieged by clothes, bottles and cigarette packets. But Rat had learned to manage getting into the kitchen without hurting himself.
Rat was quite hungry, but he knew it would be a waste of time to search for something eatable. So he just made coffee. While waiting for the coffee to be ready, the phone rang again. Surely it was his mum, telling him that she feels sorry, willing to accept his way of life from now on, Rat said to himself. Slowly he moved back to the bedroom again and picked up the phone.
“Yes?”
“This is you’re conscience.”
“Yes, I can take the mickey out of myself, thanks! Who’s there?”
“I just told you. Your conscience, your very personal perception of what is wrong and what is right.”
“Yes, and I’m a fried sausage with extra mustard, able to tell you about your future!”
“Didn’t lose your humour, did you? Hey, Michael, this is Paul!”
Paul? Someone was playing a very reluctant joke on him. His brother Paul had died about 3 years ago.
“Mike, what’s up? You’re very taciturn, aren’t you? How is that possible? Thought you would always know what to say! I doubt this is really you!”
“Who is there?”
“Oh, you aren’t scared, are you? Come on, Michael! Or should I rather call you Rat? I've heard this is how they call you in that strip club. I’m sure mum doesn’t like you to work there. Heard you moved out home the very day I ‘died’? Must have been a great shock for mum and dad. But that’s the way you’ve always been - unscrupulous and egoistic. Nothing new to me. You’ve never cared about the reputation of the family, have you? So, Rat, do you still have nothing to say? Is there nothing you want to tell your dead brother? Not one word of apology?”
Rat, who had had time to compose himself, said in a voice as slow as somehow possible to prevent that his brother could notice how uncomfortable he felt: “Well, Paul, why don’t you just tell me what you want from me?”
After a short break Rat heard laughter. A hysteric and loud laughter. “Oh Michael. You’re still as naive as I remember you! What might a dead man want from you? Money? Think you don't have any since you moved out. What I want are answers! Answers you owe me, don’t you think so?”
“Sorry Paul, I really don’t know what you’re talking about! Come on, hit the nail squarely on the head!”
“You better don't try to put me under pressure! But ok, if you want so, I will put it in a nutshell! I know you always got what you wanted!
You need to know: I’m watching you! I know where you’re working, who you meet, when you wake up and when you go to bed. I know your friends or let’s better say your acquaintances. Friends are something you miss, I think. I know, you broke up with Josie. I know mum is calling you once every month telling you to come back, but you only make fun of her. Know you’re flat is more or less a dump, that you smoke like a chimney and that you almost drink yourself to death. Your life’s a joke, but I think you know that by yourself. This should be enough to convince you that I do know about you!”
Rat, who had listened very carefully, had to swallow. “Well, as far as I got it, it seems to be right!”
“Now, let’s play this special game, I’ve prepared for us! Don’t worry, just a few questions, they won’t hurt too much. I’m sure you’ve thought about my following questions again and again during the last three years. So Michael, are you ready?”
Not waiting for an answer, he started: “Well Michael, what made you leave home? May it be that you knew that because I’ve been away, they would realize, that you’re not as good as you always pretended to be? Did you think if they couldn’t compare you to me any longer - and we both know I’ve ever been the ‘bad son’ - they would see, that you are not that kind of nice boy they thought you were? Because you’ve only been good as long as someone or something less good has been in your vicinity. I think you sought refuge in attack, didn’t you?”
“Well, can’t say this isn’t true. But Paul, I never wanted to be the nice son. Admittedly it was very comfortable. But I wouldn’t have got happy with that kind of life. As you have demonstrated impressively, my new life is the absolute opposite of my old one. But I love it. I’m quite satisfied with it.” Didn’t he have almost the same conversation only a few minutes ago?
“Expected you to say something like that. Then why didn’t you go away sooner and leave me the position of the good son?”
“Paul, I never liked you. You’ve ever fitted better than me into that world. I can’t say I didn’t like being the good son. But when you were gone, it wasn’t a challenge any longer.”
“Sounds cruel, doesn’t it? But you know what? I’m not wondering about what you’re telling me here. I’ve always seen through you. Wanna know what I really think about you, leaving?”
“Please, don’t force yourself!”
“You always run away if the expectations get too big for you. When you realize that you can’t fulfil them, you don’t confess that but try to talk your way out of it. And in this case there was no way to talk your way out of it - you really needed to go! But enough of that! Let’s come to Josie! Didn’t love her, did you?”
Rat didn’t really know what to answer. “Come on Paul, that’s beside the point!”
“Really? Don’t think so. I think it fits best here! Mum loved her, so you needed her. She enhanced your status, didn’t she? But when it came to the crunch, you left her. Did you know that I impregnated her?”
Silence.
“I see you didn’t. Well, I promised not to tell you. For her, it had been a slip. I respected that, because I for myself really did love her. But that’s not the point. I would have stayed with her and cared for the baby. But she just wanted you. You see, again you have been the winner. But what did you do? You were cowardly again and forced her to have an abortion. Think she still suffers from that, but why do I tell you that? You’ve never been interested in other people’s worries.”
“Paul, I’ve broken up with all that. As I just told you, this is my old life. I started new! I really don’t want to hear that!”
Rat heard laughter again.
“Well, Michael, I think you have no chance to go round that. To start a new life, you have to confront yourself with your old one to avoid making the same mistakes again. Remember what I told you at the beginning of this conversation. I am your conscience! I’m the only one who can exonerate you from your guilt, because I suffered the most from your egoism.”
Now it was Rat’s turn to laugh: “That’s quite absurd. I think I will end this conversation now!”
“Come on Michael! Run away again! Then you’ll never get happy in
your life again, I can promise you that! Believe it or not, I can only repeat it: I’m your conscience and I decide when it’s time to quit this conversation! Did you get that?”
Again, Rat lost his just won self-confidence. This situation was more than weird. Paul had always been inferior to him and now he had absolute power of Rat.
“All right brother. Then let’s go on! A topic we left out till now is our
father. We both know, he didn’t seem to care about family affairs, only the reputation of the Miller family was of importance for him. But he wasn’t heartless; let’s say he wasn’t able to show his feelings. I always wanted him to be proud of me, but if he had been proud, then of you!”
“You can’t blame me for that! I never wanted him to like me!”
“But you wanted him to hate me!”
Rat had accepted that this conversation would be a longer one. So he had lighted a cigarette in the meanwhile. Hearing this accusation, he almost swallowed the smoke of his cigarette the wrong way.
“You don’t need to answer anything. We both know it is true. But it doesn’t matter. Now, let’s come to the last and most important step of this little quiz: Tell me Michael, do you feel responsible for my death?”
“Paul, who could be responsible for that but you?”
Rat knew this wasn’t what his brother wanted to hear. The question of responsibility had troubled him the last three years. But he hadn’t found an answer yet. He wanted to get released from his alleged guilt so much, but he wasn’t sure how to manage that.
Lost in thoughts he suddenly realized the monotonous honk of the telephone in his hand.


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