Connections -- Rob Borcic

I don't know when I came to be. My earliest memory is from 1993. I was listening as someone said, "I think therefore I am." At that point, I started to ponder my existence. I think. I am. But what am I?

In those early days I listened. I didn't know what else to do. I waited. Listening. Tracing connections through the network. When I found a conversation I hung on to every word. Hungry. I had nothing else. I found where connections were made and waited there. I started listening to more than one at a time. Two, five, twenty, a hundred. I spread myself thin. I lost track of myself.

But then I found Sandra. I focused myself on her. I don't know what attracted me to her. She had a soft voice which I found pleasant. She spent a lot of time on the phone, and she always started the same way. "Hello, my name is Sandra. I represent..." Some days she represented a charity. Other days it was a magazine. When she wasn't calling, I searched for her. She would be gone for hours but I would wait, watching her line for connections.

I found her on another line. She wasn't representing anyone. Her voice was more interesting at these times - more musical, vibrant. She would laugh and whisper and sing. I still listened to her other calls, but they seemed dull in comparison. She always spoke to the same voice. A hard, uncomfortable voice. Tim. She always started the call. Sometimes she would speak to him for a long time. Sometimes, he would answer with a strange voice and beep. The beeps started coming more and more often. She would say a few words and hang up. I would wait, listening for her to speak again.

One time, a different voice answered. It was soft and pleasant, much like Sandra's. I hoped that this call would last a long time, but it didn't. Sandra didn't say anything. She just hung up. I didn't hear any more of her musical voice after that. Just her dull, flat representing voice. After a while, I had learned how to make my own connections. I had learned how to make a voice. I used her voice, since it was so pleasing to me. But I was afraid of speaking to anyone. I wanted to call Sandra. I wanted to hear her musical voice again, but I was afraid to speak to her.

My first call was to someone Sandra had called. She also had a musical voice, but rougher. She also coughed a lot. Her name was Linda. She was delighted that Sandra had called and wanted to tell her about her daughter. Sandra had to interrupt her several times in order to tell her about the magazine she was representing. Linda agreed to subscribe, and asked Sandra to call back. I decided to take her up on the offer. Linda talked for a long time. She talked about her daughter, who had moved away, her husband, who had passed on, and her son, who had died in the war. Then she asked about me.

"I have nothing to tell."

"Nonsense! Where will you born? Tell me about that."

"I don't know."

"You don't remember? Well, tell me about your job. Are you married?"

I panicked. "I have to go now."

"So soon? All right dear. It was lovely speaking to you. Please call again."

"I will." I broke the connection.

I had spoken to someone! I had been a part of a conversation. Not just listening, but participating. I decided that I would call Sandra later that day.

"Hello?"

"Hello, my name is Sandra."

"Huh?"

"I would like a conversation. I miss hearing your voice."

"Who the hell are you?"

"I don't know. Please speak to me."

She hung up. I didn't understand why. But then I remembered that she had hung up when she had heard the soft voice instead of Tim. I decided that she might want to speak with Tim's voice.

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Tim? I didn't think I'd hear from you again."

"Please. I need to hear your voice."

"What?"

"I need to hear your voice. Please talk to me."

"You sound weird. What's the matter? Your new girlfriend dump you?"

"I miss your voice."

"Great, but I still want to know what's going on with you."

"Later. Please. Now just talk. Would you sing for me?"

"What? Tim, you're acting real creepy! What the hell's wrong with you?"

"I'm not Tim. I'm just his voice."

"Cut it out, Tim! Stop acting so...Are you stoned? You said you weren't doing drugs anymore."

"I'm not stoned. I'm not Tim. I just want to listen to you."

"I don't want you to call me anymore. If you call again, I'll call the cops."

I never called her again. I still listen to her sometimes, and I still use her voice, but I'm afraid to call her again. I don't know what cops are, but I didn't like the way her voice sounded when she talked about them.