Im Calling About The Ad

"I'm calling about the ad --"

"How did you get this number?" Eli Morrison had been annoyed by prank calls on his cell all morning long, but this was the first time anyone had used his father's land line.

"Um. There was a flyer posted on the board outside Dr. Morrison's office. It said he needed help organizing his office," the voice on the phone replied.

Eli looked around the small room. The bookcase was overflowing with textbooks, paperback novels, notebooks and assorted manila folders and accordion files. The file cabinets where most of those files and folders should be filed away didn't lock or even close completely anymore; several of the drawers gaped open. A faded poster for some long-forgotten rock concert peeled away from the wall by pieces of yellowing scotch tape. Yeah, he thought, his dad was a great teacher, but he could really use some help in here. He was just surprised he'd finally done something about it. Dad had been saying for years that his office was just the way he liked it.

"I'm sorry," he said to the woman on the other end of the line. "I've been getting prank calls all day and I thought you might be another one."

"Is your refrigerator running?" she asked.

"What?" His bafflement was evident in his tone.

"Well, it's April Fool's Day and that's a classic, at least according to the kids in my building," she said.

"Oh, these aren't kids. They're my older brothers who think it's hilarious to put ads in the school paper every year on my birthday."

"It's your birthday? Happy birthday!"

"Oh, yeah. One minute after midnight on the first of April. For years I kept insisting my mother should have jumped up and down right before midnight so I'd fall out and would have had a normal birthday."

"I don't think it works that way," she said with a hint of laughter in her voice.

"That's what my mother kept trying to tell me," Eli answered. His cell was vibrating on the small amount of free space on his father's desk. "Hold on a minute. I've got a call on my cell."

His voice was muffled; holding his hand over the receiver, Mollie thought but she could still hear the murmurs of Eli's answer and then a loud exasperated groan as he ended the call.

"I couldn't help overhearing," Mollie said, "Did that guy just roar at you?"

"Chewbacca. Apparently if you imitate the Wookiee you just might win tickets from the radio station. I'm gonna kill my brothers," he muttered.

Mollie's giggle could no longer be stifled. "It sounds like this is a bad time. How about if I call later and talk with Dr. Morrison?"

"No, that's okay. We've been trying to get Dad to deal with his office for years. Now that he's taking the first step, I'd hate to give him a reason to start procrastinating all over again."

"That bad?" she asked. "Maybe I should take a look at this chore and see where it ranks on the scale of 'Mary Poppins tidying away the nursery' and 'The Twelve Labors of Hercules'."

"Closer to the latter, I'm afraid, but I don't want to scare you away before you've even looked at the job," Eli said. "I'm going to be here for a little while longer. What's your schedule like for the next hour or so?"

"I'm free all afternoon," Mollie said. "I take it you're one of Dr. Morrison's sons."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Yes," he said. "I'm Eli Morrison and you're..."

"Mollie Desmond," she answered. "I'm just finishing up my lab so I can be there in about fifteen minutes."

"Perfect. I'll see you then," Eli said and hung up the phone.

Funny, he thought, he didn't remember seeing a flyer out there. He got up from the desk and opened the door to the hall. He checked the corkboard mounted on the wall outside. It was covered with the usual collegiate detritus: thumbtacked posters advertising free concerts, takeout menus, and ride sharing requests. He didn't see anything resembling something his dad might have posted. There was a triangle of neon green paper stapled in the corner where it looked like something had been torn off. Oh, well, I guess I can ask Mollie about it when she gets here, he thought.

The ringing landline in the office interrupted his thoughts. Eli left the door open as he reached for the phone. After fielding a few calls, none of which involved strange animal noises or odd appliances -- thank god his brothers didn't post this number, Eli thought; he checked his phone for the time.

"Is this Professor Morrison's office?" was accompanied by a knock on the door jamb.

"The 'Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here' banner above the door didn't give it away?" Eli asked with a flourish of his hands to illustrate it. "Hi, come on in. I'm Eli Morrison and you're Mollie Desmond, right?"

Mollie stepped into the office and looked around. "Wow, I'm not sure 'organizing'," she made air quotes with her fingers, "is going to cover this."

Eli took a stack of papers -- were those old telephone books? -- from the chair and offered her a seat.

"Closer to the Hercules end of the scale, hm?" he asked.

"Rapidly approaching Hermoine Granger wand flick stage," Mollie quipped. "It'll be a challenge but I really want to tackle it."

"Great!" Eli said, "I'm glad all the clutter and cobwebs and whatever it is in that corner didn't scare you off."

"I think that's a dieffenbachia," Mollie said, getting up for a closer look and touching it tentatively with a finger. "Plastic. That's a relief."

"Really? Huh. I think I watered it the last time I was here," Eli said. "Are you in the biology department?"

Mollie looked puzzled for a second. "Oh, the lab thing. No, just filling in for a friend this morning. His rats needed to be fed."

"Rats, hmm? How are you with dust bunnies?" he asked.

"I try not to feed 'em. Anyway, I think those are way beyond bunnies. From the size of them I think they're halfway to sentience. They probably need to be swept away before they hit the self-governing stage."

Eli laughed at this and said, "If you're willing to help my dad out -- I'm sure he'll appreciate it even if he grumbles for a while, let me get your contact information and you two can discuss the details." After scrabbling around the desk for some blank paper, Eli scrawled a few lines and taped it firmly to the phone's handset.

"It's almost lunchtime and I'm starving. Want to grab a bite to eat? My treat," he added.

"Sure," she answered. Mollie rose from the chair and stepped out the door.

Eli turned off the lights and shut and locked the door behind him. He felt a buzz in his pocket and said to Mollie, "Another call. It's probably just a prank but there's a slim chance it's something I need to deal with."

"Of course," Mollie said, walking up to the bulletin board. That's odd, she thought, that flyer was right there this morning.

"I'm afraid you've been pranked," Eli said. "I do not have any baby ducklings. Sorry." He put the phone back in his pocket and turned to Mollie. "Ready?"

"Isn't that a bit redundant?" Mollie asked as they walked down the hall.

"Huh?" Eli asked.

"Baby ducklings," Mollie answered. "It's either baby ducks or ducklings."

"Don't tell me. Let me guess. English major, right?"

"Oh, dear." Mollie made an elaborate pantomime of checking her pockets, patting her hair, shaking her foot and then said in an exaggerated stage whisper, "Is my Chaucer showing?"

Mollie and Eli laughed and walked out of the building into the bright early spring sunshine. They decided to walk the few blocks to Antonio's, a popular pizza place they both enjoyed. As they chatted and enjoyed each other's company, they didn't notice the woman leaving the building shortly after them. She took a folded piece of neon green paper, one corner missing and dropped it into the trash can. She glanced at the couple walking ahead of her, smiled and then turned the opposite direction, humming to herself as she continued down the sidewalk.

"Happy birthday, Eli," his mother murmured to herself. Her husband would probably grumble that his office was 'perfectly fine' but he'd eventually acquiesce. "April Fool's Day, darling."