(Story) Payload : I of II

“Pa?” the pilot questioned. The man had just paid a half months wage for use of the phone. And the shopkeeper who owned it, stood hovering over his shoulder, glaring at him. Static audibly crackled along the line and was so fierce that the man worried he wouldn’t be heard. Not to mention the traffic and people which swirled in movement outside the little store. Kicking up dust clouds and an almost intolerable noise. 

“Ja-ames? Ji-jimmy?” the weight of his father’s voice sounded both shrill and joyous while somehow wrapped in disbelieving hope.

“Yeah Dad, it’s me!” James yelled into the receiver. Plugging his open ear with a finger in order to block out the hustle and speed of the people and cars around him.

“Well how are you boy?!? Hold on, your Ma is in the barn-” he could hear his father’s breath start to hold as his dad began to pull the phone away.

“Nah, we don’t have that kind of time.” James took a deep breath. He listened as the phone was brought back up to his Dad’s mouth. Then James’ father spoke directly.

“Ok son, ok. So how are you? No, where are you? State side?” 

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