Hello, it's me
I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet
To go over everything
They say that time's supposed to heal ya
But I ain't done much healing.
Humphrey picked up the phone in his office, and on hearing the dial tone on the other end, swiftly put the receiver down again. He looked around the office, making sure no one else was around and seeing only the shadows that the streetlights were making. The silence was good. In the quiet, he could think. But he'd spent enough time thinking. Now he had to act.
Humphrey composed himself, inhaling deeply, then exhaling. He had to do this. He wanted to do this. Humphrey owed Jack Mooney one last phone call. He picked up the phone again and dialled the number without thinking ahead, without thinking about what he was going to say or whether Jack would even pick up. It rang three times before Jack answered.
He sounded happy. Humphrey didn't know if that made this better or worse.
"Hi," was all that Humphrey could say. He prayed that Jack would know it was him. He couldn't bear the idea of Jack having forgotten the sound of his voice.
After a second or two, Humphrey heard Jack finally start to breathe again. "Humphrey," Jack said. It wasn't punctuated with any particular emotion, but an acknowledgment nonetheless. That, he could work with.