Feb 23, 2009

Just as I finished dialing, I realized I had made a mistake.The phone rang. Someone picked it up.

“You got the wrong number!” a husky male voice snapped andthe line went dead.

Curious, I dialed again.“I said you got the wrong number!” came the voice.

Againthe line went dead.

How could he possibly know I had the wrong number? Being apolicewoman, I was naturally curios and I was also concerned about this person.So I dialed a third time.

“Hey, is that you again?” asked the man.
“Yes it’s me,” I answered. “I want to know how could youknew I had dialed the wrong number before I said anything?”
“You make a guess!” The phone slammed down.

I sat there for a while. Thinking of him. Then, I called the man again. My heart full of so many feeling. Sad, funny and shocked mixed after I had figure it out.

Did you find out?” he asked.
“The only thing I can think of is that
nobody ever calls you,” I said with feeling so pity.
“That’s right!” the phone went dead for the fourth time
Smiling, I dialed the same number again.



“What do you want now?” he yelled at me.
I thought I would call and said hello,” I told him
“Hello? For what and why?”
“Well, if nobody ever calls you, I thought maybe I should.”
There was pause for a while.

“Okay, hello. Who is this?” then the friendly voice camefrom the other side.
So I introduce myself and asked about him.


His name was Carl Duke Adam and he was 88-year –old.He had neither family nor friends. Everyone he had been close to had died. We talked for ten minute and I discovered we had something in common. Adam had worked in the New York City Police Department, where I am attached to, for forty years. He was an inspector. I found him to be an interesting and friendly person. I asked him if I could call him again. He was surprised.

“Why would you want to do that?” he asked
“We can be phone-friends, erm…just like pen-pals,”
“Ha..ha..ha..,” he just laughed when I suggested that. But he agreed with me.


I calledAdam the following afternoon and several days after that. He was really interesting to talk to. He related his memories of the world wars and other historical event. He had a good memory. I gave him my phone number and he called me almosteveryday. Taking with him became important to me. It filled a big gap in mylife as I had ever experienced such a relationship. I grew up in orphanages and foster homes and had never experienced a relationship with a father figure.

Adam and I shared that relationship now. I talked to him about various things like my job and night classes and other problems I had. He was my counselor when I discussedmy problems with him. Once I told him of a disagreement I had with mys upervisor, I want to talk it out, but Adam advised me not to.
“What the rush? Let things cool down. Time will take care of things. Only if things got worse, you should talk to him’” he advised concernas a true father.
One evening, Adam mentioned that his 89th birthday was coming.
“This Saturday is my 89th birthday. I would liketo say thanks for your kindness to be my friend,”

So I decided to meet him on his birthday. I designed a two by-five-foot greeting card and asked all the cops in my office to sing it. There were nearly a hundred signatures,including that of the police commissioner. It had been four month since Adam and I began our ‘phone’ relationship and I wanted to meet him face-to-face.

I decided that it would be appropriate time to visit him on his birthday and deliver thecard personally. I did not tell Adam that I was coming. I just drove to his place one morning in his birthday’s day and parked my car opposite his apartment. I checked the mailboxes for Adam’s name. He was in apartment 1H. Therewas a postman sorting the mail in the hall way when I went to apartment 1H. I knocked the door but there was no answer. So I knocked it harder. The postman looked up and said,
“There’s no one there.”
I stopped knocking looked at him questioningly.
“Are you a relative?” the postman asked.
“Uh..kind of..”
“I am sorry,” he said quietly. “ but
Mr. Carl Duke Adam die the day before yesterday.
I stoodthere in shock and disbelief. I thanked the postman and walked towards the car,misty-eyed. For the first time I sensed how closed Adam and I become. I missed hearing his voice so much. I picked the unopened birthday cards on the back seat of my car and start the engine.
“Uncle,” I whispered, “I did not get the wrong number atall. I got you! You will always in my heart! I really miss you.”

hasil karya nor sofia diana mohd azmi

1 comment:

  1. sedihnyer cerita ni, tiba2 teringat mak ayah kat malaysia =(
    (homesick mode)
    kene selalu doakan mereka & atok ,nenek, sedara etc yg dah tiada kat dunia n juga pada yg masih hidup
    smoga sma2 jumpa di syurga =)
    ameen...

    ReplyDelete