Anybody there&;#063;

Anybody There?

Marcus snatched the ten pound note from the cash-point and
retreated back to his car. He looked up the litter laden street before
he
got in, to where, two days previously, a man had run over someone
using this cash-point before smashing into the pillar of the
'Bodies'
night club entrance. Both participants were killed.

Marcus got in his car and slammed the door shut. He was
regretting
buying the mobile phone the day before yesterday, he couldn't seem
to
get a signal anywhere. What was the point of a mobile if it didn't
work?
Its only practical use was as a mobile telephone directory. It had
taken
him two days to put in 58 numbers of friends and family. Well, ten
for
friends and family, the rest were a random assortment of numbers
gleaned from the yellow pages: Plumber, local video shop, various
taxi
firms etc. A phone number really, to cover any scenario. He
hadn't
actually got through to anyone yet. He was now on his third try to
his
sister.

Beep Beep Beep Beep.....Marcus looked at the phone display. It
read 'Redial?'

He pressed cancel and placed the phone on the passenger seat.

Perhaps it was something to do with the satellite, he'd heard
that
cloud cover could be a factor in the strength of a signal, though
he
couldn't recall whether this was detrimental or not. Do the clouds
help
to bounce the signal or do they obscure it? He didn't care, he
couldn't
even phone the people he bought the phone from. It was a
communication catch 22.

His stomach grumbled and he decided to drive to Safeways
supermarket for the ?1.99 breakfast.

He parked up and opened the door to get out.

There was only one customer in the self-service queue, a
bean-pole
girl in a badly tie-dyed dress, probably here to stuff as many
free
condiment packets as she could into her shopping bags.

'Big breakfast please,' said Marcus to the lady behind the
counter,
'and a coffee.'

'Cup, mug, Capacino?' She questioned

Marcus wanted to say, I'll have an Al Pacino you stoopid fock,
but
thought better of it.

'Er...Mug please.'

He paid, collected his cutlery and sat at a table. Marcus removed
the
phone from his pocket and placed it next to the mug. The phone
chirruped. Panic set in to him. Shit, someone was calling him.

Chirrup...Nobody had his number though.

Chirrup...He picked it up and fumbled to the o.k. button.

'Hello?' There was a low sort of interference sound.

'Hello?' A voice replied.

'Who is this?' Marcus enquired.

'Who is this?' The voice answered.

'This is Marcus...Who am I speaking to?'

'..am I speaking to?' The voice echoed.

Marcus realised he was talking to himself and cancelled the
call.
How the hell did that happen? He cut into his sausage and kebabbed
it
on to the fork with a mushroom and a piece of fried bread.

Perhaps there was someone there, it's just they didn't speak
immediately. He could retrieve the number from the 'last calls
received'
memory on the phone.

He checked the phone and saw: Last call received:

1.MY MOBIL

07971929775

Marcus had input his own mobile number into the phone directory
in
the event that he may forget it. So he must have accidently pressed,
to
ring himself? Could you ring yourself? He didn't think so.

Marcus looked up his sisters number:

4.LUCY

07971929775.

Then did a double-take on realising the significance of the
numbers,
he forwarded to the next in the directory:

27.MIKEHOME

07971929775.

Then the next:

1.MY MOBIL

07971929775.

The phone chirruped in his hand, Marcus flinched, nearly
dropping
it. He gingerly placed it to his ear.

'Hello.' A voice breathed.

'Hello?' answered Marcus.

'Who is this.'

'No, who is this?' snapped Marcus.

'This is Marcus,' the voice continued, '...Who am I speaking
to.'

'No, I am Marcus, you have just phoned me.'

Pause.

'Then we both must be Marcus,' stated the voice.

Marcus glanced to the phone's display of incoming caller.

It read:

1.MY MOBIL

07971929775

The phone went dead and left him staring at the numbers. Jesus,
thought Marcus, this was getting weird. He hit the power off button
to
stop anymore calls. He tried to fathom out what was happening
while
he finished his breakfast and concluded it may have something to
do
with his answering service. But the voice had clearly stated, 'then
we
both must be Marcus.' And he hadn't uttered those words. Marcus
placed his knife and fork on the plate and pushed it away.

The phone beeped. A text message icon appeared in the display.

Marcus menued to the sentence.

'--U R NOT MARCUS--'.

Yes I bloody well am, he thought, who has sent that? He looked
to
see the senders number:

Date: 08/05

Time: 11:03

No. 07971929775

Someone must be trying to screw him around. Today was the eighth
of the fifth but it was just gone ten o'clock , his watched backed that
up.
The phone beeped again. Another text message.

'--STAY THERE --'.

Why should I stay here? How does he know where I am? As he
stood up to leave he noticed the girl at the other table stuff a fist
full of
ketchup sachets into her bag and laugh to her friend.

Marcus left the store and got in his car.

The phone rang.

'Who is it?,' answered Marcus as he slammed the door shut and
hit
the lock.

'Marcus...I'm...a friend, listen to me.'

'Just tell me what's goin' on!'

'You have to stay where you are. I'll try and explain and don't
interrupt there isn't much time. Your destiny has become entangled
with
somebody elses.'

Marcus spurted, 'What the bloody hell are you on about
entangl...'

'Don't interrupt,' the voice said, 'the destiny you are entangled in
is
going to end at ten thirty three and unless I can disentangle it, so
is
yours. It happened when you bought the phone, you walked in with
somebody else, a certain John Marcus. You are Marcus John. You
both
bought phones. You were both allocated the same number by
mistake.
He was born on the same day as you, the same hour and second.
Your
parents have the same names, he lives in a house that he named
'Valhalla'. What's your house called?'

'Valhalla, so it's just coincidence,' replied Marcus.

'It would seem that, but now for the bits that won't tie together
for
you. Who did you try to phone earlier?'

'Lucy, my sister,' answered Marcus as a realisation poured over
him.

'And it doesn't seem strange that you don't have a sister, let
alone
one called Lucy?'

Marcus started to tremble as a wave of icy tingles spread over
his
body, 'why did I do that? Did it start then?'

'There are some things that you don't have in common, he has a
sister you don't, he lives in Carmarthen you live in Haverfordwest,
but
from the time you bought the phone, you have both been doing
exactly
the same things.'

Marcus queried, 'What do you mean exactly the same things?'

'You've both watched the same channels on tele, gone to the toilet
at
the same time, Jesus, you even fart at the same time!'

There were too many indigestible facts for Marcus, too many
questions to ask and too little time, 'So who the hell are you?'

'Marcus.....I am.....you. When John Marcus dies in one hour, he
takes his destiny and body with him, he also takes your body but
not
your destiny, you will live on in this, um, vacuum.'

'What d'ya mean vacuum. I want more than a friggin' vacuum.'

'That's all I can call it, it's like time, colour, noise, distance,
they're
all the the same, it's difficult to explain.'

'No shit, Sherlock.'

'Well even though I've done this a thousand times before, this is
the
first time I'm trying it.'

'What?' Said Marcus, confused.

'Don't worry it's a vacuum thing. I'm going to try and, er, wake
up
your, I mean our conscious..less..., er, ..ness. I'm going to ring you
just
before the accident and try to snap you, us, out of it. Marcus look
out
side the car.'

Marcus looked through the side window. The parked cars moved
past him. No, the cars stayed parked it was him that was moving,
he
shot a glance front. He was driving the car! His arm shifted the
gear
stick to second gear.

Marcus shouted into the phone then realised there was no phone,
his
phone hand was on the steering wheel.

Had he just imagined talking?

Where was he going now?

He couldn't remember, why was he on the phone? Was he on the
phone? He remembered he had to get some money from the cashpoint,
but why? Petrol? Some thing to eat?

He pulled out of the super-market exit and headed round the
roundabout.

The phone rang.

It rang again. Marcus picked it up off the passenger seat.

Damn, it stopped ringing. He put it down.

Why did he need money? He grabbed the phone again to see the
last
caller, aware that he also had to drive the car. He pressed in the
keys
and headed on to High street.

Marcus stared at the phone display: Last call received:

1. LUCY

He glanced back to the road, 'Lucy? who the hell is she?' He
indicated to pull in to the right. He may as well stop at the
cashpoint
now, he could also sort out this caller.

As he pulled in someone stepped of the kerb, Marcus accelerated
and jerked the wheel to the left, the pedestrian, panic stricken,
jumped
into his path. There was a dull thud, thud and a slow motion roll of
the
body across the bonnet and up to the wind-screen. Time slowed.
Marcus stared at the face peering back at him. It was a mirror-image
of
him-self. He hit the accelerator again and weaved the car to try
and
shake off the body.

As he wrenched the wheel a sudden clap sounded, he shut his eyes
and his senses mingled. He could feel sound and hear odours, he
could
see through time and distance and taste it as well. He was
everything.

Another clap sounded.

Marcus opened his eyes. He was sitting in his car with a ten
pound
note in one hand, the other hand held the phone to his ear.

Beep beep beep beep...

This was the third time he'd tried to phone Lucy.

Marcus looked at the phone display. It read 'Redial?'

He pressed o.k.

Beep Beep Beeee.....He cancelled it and placed the phone on the
passenger seat.

'What the hell is wrong with the signal? Bloody clouds probably.'
He
felt hungry. His stomach grumbled.

He decided to drive to Safeways supermarket for the ?1.99
breakfast.

By Jeremy J.B. Hughes.
Haverfordwest.
Wales.