Call, text, FaceTime, hell… even SHOUT! I need to know I’m not alone.
It was from Brianna, all right. She was the only one who called him Mad-hatterson instead of Chad Patterson.He didn’t recognize the email address, though.
Okay. Whatever. He hit reply and wrote: “Hey, Brianna. Who died? What funeral home? Were we supposed to meet somewhere?” He hit send, then thought,Forget it. I need toactually talk to her.So, he called the number in his contact list, but when it went to voicemail, he had to leave a message.
“Hey, Bri. Who died? What funeral home? Were we supposed to meet? I can’t figure out this freaky email you sent me. Call me back. Oh, and what the hell is a zippy?”
He set his new phone on his desk and stared at it. “Call, will you? I have papers to grade, and I can’t concentrate when I’m trying to figure out some friggin’ mystery.”
And now I’m talking to myself…
As if it were answering him, the phone rang.Could this day get any weirder?
“Chad, what the hell are you talking about? Who died?”
“I was hoping you could tell me!”
“Huh? How should I know?”
“You should know because you sent me the email telling—no,orderingme to meet you at the funeral home. You neglected to say who died, but you were planning a funeral, I think. You called it a shindig.”
“Sounds like me. Can you forward that email?”
“Sure. It’s a different email address than the one you usually use.”
“Well, that’s probably it. Someone else sent it. Must have been meant for some other Chad Patterson.”
“Whose nickname is also Mad-hatterson?”
“I admit that’s pretty freaky. What email addy is it coming from?”
“B.Spaghetti at starstruck.com”
“I’ve never heard of Starstruck as an email provider. Have you?”
“Nope.”
“Weird. Okay, forward it to my B.Spaghetti at gmail.com addy.”
“You got it.”
“Well, I’ll get it in a second or two.” She chuckled.
He found the message and forwarded it, as requested. “Listen, I have to get back to grading some papers. Since I guess nobody died, maybe you can call me when I get home.”
“Sure. Don’t work too hard.”
Chad scoffed and hung up. She knew he always worked too hard. Between trying to come up with interesting lesson plans, reading the shit essays his students wrote, and then trying to critique them without being an asshole… Well, the life of an English professor could get formidable. He didn’t need this strange email on top of that.
Apingnoise let him know another email had just arrived.Do I dare look?
“Are you drunk? Are you telling me you don’t remember your own mentor dying? For Heaven’s sake. Get in that stupid Zipcar you rent instead of owning one and get down here.Now!”
Yikes. The word ‘now’ was in italics.
Since email seemed to be this mystery person’s preferred way to communicate, he wrote back. “I think you have the wrong guy. I’m sorry for your loss, but I…” He stalled on the next words.How can I be sensitive and at the same time get this jerk to go away?“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Is this Brianna Suretti?”
“Well, duh…” she wrote back.
