The Thing About Earthquakes

Chico called me last night about 5:30 but I didn't catch the message until later. Actually, there was no message. I just saw that he called. That's odd, I thought. I thought he was at work. At ten I texted him buena noche and climbed into bed. A few minutes later his number was ringing my phone. I ignored it. I was too tired to try and converse in espanglish. The phone vibrated a bit and then flashed at me that I was to page his number. I don't think so, I thought and rolled over.

Minutes later it started to vibrate again and I grabbed the phone.

Hola? I said, kind of perturbed.

You've been calling this number? a woman's voice said, in perfect english.

I'm sorry I said, perplexed, I must have dialed a wrong number. My sleepy head was trying to make sense of things, like when you're standing with the sidewalk rolling under your feet and buildings swaying all about you and your brain just keeps asking is this an earthquake?

Who were you trying to reach? she asked.

Chico, I said.

Who are you? she demanded.

I'm his friend from the Y. Who are you?

I'm his wife! she shot back.

Silence. On both ends. And then she hung up.

The phone rang one more time about 30 minutes later but I didn't answer it. I was on the phone with Papi trying to make sense of everything. I guess that's the thing about earthquakes - they don't really shake you up until after they have passed and you're left standing there trying to figure out what the heck just happened.