Phone to Heaven

 Alas, out of a field of nearly 1300 for Furious Fiction March 2021 I did not win, nor make the short nor the long list. There is always next month.

These were the complete criteria for March:

500 words or fewer.

Each story had to include the pictured setting (below) at some point.
Each story had to include the following “MAR-” words: MARKET, MARBLE, MARVELOUS, MARSHMALLOW.
Each story’s final sentence had to contain dialogue – i.e. someone speaking.

Phone to Heaven

Henry’s mother died three years ago. He’d had a hard time coming to grips with it. He’d wake up in the morning and then have the sudden realization that his mother was no long around and he’d feel this tremendous burden. He went through the motions of daily life like an automaton. He had but one goal now and that was to contact his mother and tell her he loved her. Something he’d never done in her lifetime.

Henry tried psychics and séances, but despite all of their marvelous trickery he was never convinced. After numerous attempts he gave up. Henry had nearly exhausted every possibility when he heard about a psychic fair happening the day before his birthday. It was about a two hour drive, but he was determined to try everything.

The day was brilliant and the tents had banners fluttering, the air was festive, but Henry felt troubled. There were palm readers, crystal worker, aura readers, tarot card readers, what ever you wanted in abundance. Henry couldn’t believe there was such a large market of people like this.

He made the circuit seeing what the offerings were. He’d come to the conclusion they were all fake. At the far edge of the fairgrounds there was a tent that had seen better days, it was a bit faded and you could see where it had been patched here and there. This tent intrigued Henry, it didn’t have the glitz of the rest of the fair. Could he have stumbled on the real deal?

As he approached the tent a bent figure emerged. She seemed to be well into her eighties, but still had a spring in her step. She beckoned Henry in. The inside was just a shabby as the outside with a small round table and chairs in the center with a threadbare green velvet tablecloth. It was missing some of it’s tassels.

Henry sat down. She asked to see his palm. Reluctantly he presented his hand. She examined it, then, looked at it again and said, “You are seeking a loved one who has passed on. I may be able to help you.”

Henry waited, expecting an upfront fee.

She spoke again, “About two hours south of here is a small fishing village. There is an old red Phone booth there. You can call your loved one from there. You owe me nothing, unless it works out.”

Weird, no charge. Was she legit? It was too late today for another two hour trip. He’d have to postpone it till tomorrow, his birthday.

There it was just like she said it would be, but there was a woman on the phone. She came out of the booth smiling but with tears running down her cheeks. He approached the booth with trepidation. Opening the door his olfactory senses were overwhelmed by the smell of a fresh baked chocolate marble cake with marshmallow icing, his favorite birthday cake. He lifted the receiver and dropped in a coin. “Hello, Mom?”