Jonathan and Ælfthryth

The telephone at the school beeped. No ringing. Ringing was outdated. Only land lines had them—cell phones played whatever you wanted.

The telephone at the school beeped. Mrs. Tibbs picked up. “High School campus.”

“Hey Mrs. Tibbs,” a female voice on the other end spoke softly. “Can I speak with Jonathan?” There was only one Jonathan in the school. Mrs. Tibbs reminded her,

“It’s second period, Ælfthryth.”

“I know,” she amended. “But this is very important.”

Mrs. Tibbs said, “Hold on.” She summoned Jonathan to her desk and handed him the phone. “Hello?” he said in his friendly warm voice.

“Hey,” came a faint reply.

“Ælfthryth?”

“Yes, it’s me. I wanted to talk to you for a minute.” A pause, a sigh. “I want you with me right now, but of course you can’t come.”

“Why? Where are you?”

“I’m in the hospital,” she responded tiredly. “They tell me I won’t see noon.”

“That’s not funny Ælfthryth.”

“It’s really not.”

“You’re serious?”

“Deadly.” A pause, a slight, “Heh.”

“But you were fine at the ceremony last night….”

“Don’t talk, just listen,” she said. “I love you. I have since I first met you. I will, even when I die, which ironically enough will be soon.”

Jonathan began scrambling for a pad and pen. “Tell me your room number,” he said. “I’ll come see you. You’ll get better, I promise!”

“I’ve always wanted to just hold you, to be held by you,” she went on. “To kiss you and pet you. I have so much emotion it frightens me. My jealous heart is closed and sealed. If I opened it, I couldn’t breathe.”

“Ælfthryth…”

“Jonathan.”

She relaxed on her pillows. “I love you,” she whispered, and fell fast asleep.