For some reason though, I never unplugged the phone from the outlet or the modem. Every few weeks, the phone would ring -- just a spontaneous few rings. If one of us picked it up and pushed the button, it was obviously dead.It inspired me to write a first line for some future novel.
"The phone had been disconnected for three weeks when it rang that morning..." Well, who knows how that will turn out.
Today, as I moved my laptop back to my desk and bent over to plug it into the electrical strip, I saw the phone's cord and decided to unplug it. As I wrestled to pull it from the outlet, it started ringing and ringing, over and over. I got it out but still the phone struggled, its cord wrapped round the other cords of the modem and the router. It rang more quickly as if gasping for air.
Tucker picked up the handset and pulled the batteries out. Still the jangle continued.
I pulled the cord lose and then followed the other cord to the modem. I pinched the plug and pulled it free from the modem. The phone fell silent.
Now, we don't have a landline and don't plan to again, but I hated to just get rid of the phone.
Tucker was headed to the basement. Take it to the basement and put it in the back room, I told him.
"No, Mom," he said. "It will just creep on me."
"It's not plugged in anymore," I pointed out.
He reluctantly carried the phone downstairs. A few minutes later, I had barely sat down in the office chair when I heard a call from downstairs.
"Mom."
As I complained to myself that a sensor must go off whenever my butt touches a chair, alerting my children that they should call for me, I walked to the top of the stairs.
"Yeah?" I called.
"The phone's ringing."
Sigh.
"Okay," I said. "Bring it up and I'll throw it away."
With stiff arms to keep the phone as far away as possible, he carried the phone up to me. I'll probably slip it into a give away bag and let the phone go haunt another family.
You've got to admire this phone's tenacity.
Sorry. Gotta go. The phone's ringing again.
