Making Calls

I phoned a few people today, most of them related to our victim. Yes, I said victim. The case is no longer a suicide investigation, a few details we found just made it homicide. The call was to confirm whatever loose ends I found inside our reports.

Was he being hated by anyone?

Did he seem nervous for the past few days?

Did he have any medical problems?

Was there anything peculiar about him lately?

Are you sure you were there during these times?

I don't bother imagining what it's like to hear these questions if I'm on the other side, not anymore. It's useless to try and put your doubts or emotions before duty.

Sympathy however, is something that doesn't just go away if you wish it will. At the end of every one of these calls, there's often questions from the other end as well. And sometimes, your answers can change a lot of things. Maybe that's why I just say, "I'm very sorry for your loss, please call if there's anything at all." before waiting to hear their goodbye and hang up. But sometimes they don't say goodbyes, they sometimes cry and ask to talk. That's when I come to the painful decisions of either telling them there's nothing I can do or listen to their stories for the rest of the night. There are consequences for both and I can't bare to choose the latter anymore, bad memories prevent that.

I called my parents. The calls made me feel worried. I didn't feel like I would be able to sleep soon. After a while, the ringing stopped abruptly with a crack and I could hear my mother sleepily trying to greet me.

"Yes?" she sounded tired on the other end.
 "Uh, hey mom," I said the words awkwardly.
"Will?" she must have been surprised by me calling after so long.
 I felt slightly hurt from what she said next, "Why did you call?"

I realized how long it had been since I visited. A whole year in fact, since last February. We talked for a while, asking each other about how we were doing. Mom said my dad caught some salmon the other day on his boat and it almost got stolen by some bird. I laughed a little at her story and felt better at hearing her voice. It had been so long.

"Be sure to visit okay? Take care of yourself, and get a girlfriend already. Grandchildren don't make themselves." The last part felt unnecessary but I only laughed and said goodbye. Luckily, I didn't tell her about Samantha. She would have took what I said the wrong way.