Doom Phone Call #11

[K. R. Jakes]
Maybe Emily has a ringtone for Kage by now. Maybe her cellphone is on vibrate. Either way, this: ring, ring. Vibrate, vibrate. Not unlisted, this number: K. R. Jakes.
[Emily]
Emily does not have a ringtone for Kage. She does not have ringtones. Well, she has a ringtone, which, remarkably -- no really! Wait for it -- sounds like a ringing tone. See also: the proper and acceptable sound for telephones to make. Ringing. Ring. Ring, ring.

Except that the phone is on vibrate, just now, and crammed down into the back pocket of her jeans. It buzzes, and it makes her posterior feel just a bit odd. Her nose wrinkles as she shifts the warm weight in her arms to one side, and retrieves her mobile.

K. R. Jakes.

At this moment, it's one of the few name she would answer her phone for. And so? She does.

"Hey Kage," she says, her voice soft and breathy: whispered. Kept quiet. Not worried, not frayed. Warm enough, under the whispering. "It's late." An observation; bright, this one. "You okay?"
[K. R. Jakes]
Kage knows what Emily sounds like after. After some strangeness. Emily does not sound like that; not just now. Still. Still - "Hi," she says, and her voice is clear; ash and smoke, but clear, for all of that: a moon-silvered thing, tarnished, not burnished. A coin. "And it is. Why are you whispering; with someone?" A beat. And: "I am, but just. Are you? There was some madness. I thought you might've felt it." Or been involved.
[Emily]
"Babysitting," she says; just like that, babysitting. As if they were young enough, both, to understand the whole situation in a word. Just so, so simple. "For Ashton."

Oh, well then. Yes. Maybe that was enough to sum the whole of it up, then.

"I'm fine. I didn't feel anything, but she asked me to watch Marcelle. I figured something had to be up, because Father Ward just called and told me to find Owen and meet up at the House."

Oh, the House. How they loved the House. So. So very much.

Her voice stays low, stays just on the edge before speaking and whispering, until -- a sound, plaintive and sleepy; mournful of sleep disturbed; young. And then Shhhh, poppet. It's okay.. There are sounds, on the other end of the line. These sounds are Emily getting Marcelle resettled. The young girl, Ashton's girl, all sleepy and grumbly about being moved. There's a kindness in Emily, a gentleness Kage has not seen; few have; maternal? Not our Emily. No.

"I'm glad you're alright. Or mostly alright. Are you sure you're okay?" A pause, hesitant. It leads into What happened?" except that she isn't sure she wants to ask. So it stops, here. Is left unvoiced. Clear, expectant, but unspoken.
[K. R. Jakes]
"You're bringing Marcelle to the White Fence House?" A beat, and: "Did Ashes ask you after 10:30? Because if you need to drop her off somewhere;" a brief moment of hesitation, because this isn't quite done: "I can offer a sister. Ashes and I go back."

Another beat. And, stone-heavy: "I'll be fine. Knowing what the hell happened will help. The bridge collapsed. The one -- " and it has a name. Has a road. The road'll be mentioned. Summer, and it was busy: summer, and people were on it, when it groaned, sighed, and fell apart. "But I don't know yet." There: an answer to the unasked question.
[Emily]
"Yeah, I am," she says. "And yes, she did." It had been a night, all compressed like this. And it wasn't stopping any time soon. Marcelle was strapped into her carseat now; sleeping again. The car door closes, and Emily can slip into the driver's seat soon.

"I may take you up on that. It depends on what Father Ward needs us all for. And if I hear anything that help makes this all make sense, I'll call and let you know. I don't imagine we're holding a prayer vigil, but I never know."

She's hopeful, for that. That the Choristors are only gathering to pray for those who inevitably lost their life on the collapse bridge. It would be worth wrestling a two year old into the car, that. It would be worth seeking out Owen, driving across town in the small hours of the morning. That was God's work, good work, and she could get behind it. It could bring her back towards Faith; but she doubted that prayer alone would be the Good Work on the agenda for the evening.
[K. R. Jakes]
"I'm heading over to Ashley's now." There: information. A pause: inhale, then exhale, a quiet thing, a threnody. "But I'll have my phone on me. Ta, Emily."