Where I'm Calling From

utilities. In the summer they were expected to maintain the lawn and the flowers, and in winter the boy shoveled snow from the walks and spread rock salt on the pavement. The two kids, I’m telling you, were very much in love. On top of this they had great ambitions and they were wild dreamers. They were always talking about the things they were going to do and the places they were going to go.
    He gets up from his chair and looks out the window for a minute over the slate rooftops at the snow that falls steadily through the late afternoon light.
    Tell the story, she says.
    The boy and girl slept in the bedroom, and the baby slept in a crib in the living room. You see, the baby was about three weeks old at this time and had only just begun to sleep through the night.
    One Saturday night, after finishing his work upstairs, the boy went into the dentist’s private office, put his feet up on the desk, and called Carl Sutherland, an old hunting and fishing friend of his father’s.
    Carl, he said when the man picked up the receiver. I’m a father. We had a baby girl.
    Congratulations, boy, Carl said. How is the wife?
    She’s fine, Carl. The baby’s fine, too, the boy said. Everybody’s fine.
    That’s good, Carl said. I’m glad to hear it. Well, you give my regards to the wife. If you called about going hunting, I’ll tell you something. The geese are flying down there to beat the band. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many of them and I’ve been going for years. I shot five today. Two this morning and three this afternoon. I’m going back in the morning and you come along if you want to.
    I want to, the boy said. That’s why I called.
    You be here at five-thirty sharp then and we’ll go, Carl said. Bring lots of shells. We’ll get some shooting in all right. I’ll see you in the morning.
    The boy liked Carl Sutherland. He’d been a friend of the boy’s father, who was dead now. After the father’s death, maybe trying to replace a loss they both felt, the boy and Sutherland had started hunting together. Sutherland was a lean, balding man who lived alone and was not given to casual talk. Once in a while, when they were together, the boy felt uncomfortable, wondered if he had said or done something wrong because he was not used to being around people who kept still for long periods of time. But when he did talk the older man was often opinionated, and frequently the boy didn’t agree with the opinions. Yet the man had a toughness and woods-savvy about him that the boy liked and admired.
    The boy hung up the telephone and went downstairs to tell the girl. She watched while he laid out his things. Hunting coat, shell bag, boots, socks, hunting cap, woolen underwear, pump gun.
    What time will you be back? the girl asked.
    Probably around noon, he said. But maybe not until after five or six o’clock. Is that too late?
    It’s fine, she said. We’ll get along just fine. You go and have some fun. You deserve it. Maybe tomorrow evening we’ll dress Catherine up and go visit Sally.
    Sure, that sounds like a good idea, he said. Let’s plan on that.
    Sally was the girl’s sister. She was ten years older. The boy was a little in love with her, just as he was a little in love with Betsy, who was another sister the girl had. He’d said to the girl, if we weren’t married I could go for Sally.
    What about Betsy? the girl had said. I hate to admit it but I truly feel she’s better looking than Sally or me. What about her?
    Betsy too, the boy said and laughed. But not in the same way I could go for Sally. There’s something about Sally you could fall for. No, I believe I’d prefer Sally over Betsy, if I had to make a choice.
    But who do you really love? the girl asked. Who do you love most in all the world? Who’s your wife?
    You’re my wife, the boy said.
    And will we always love each other? the girl asked, enormously enjoying this conversation he could tell.
    Always, the boy said. And we’ll always be together. We’re like the Canada geese, he said, taking the first comparison that came to mind, for they were often on his mind in those days. They only mate once.
    They choose a mate early in life, and they stay together always. If one of them dies or something, the other one will live by itself, or even continue to live with the flock, but it will stay single and alone amongst all the other geese.
    That’s sad, the girl said. It’s sadder for it to live that way, I think, alone but with all the