{"id":8769,"date":"2025-03-28T12:24:19","date_gmt":"2025-03-28T16:24:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/lecturia.org\/?p=8769"},"modified":"2025-03-28T12:24:22","modified_gmt":"2025-03-28T16:24:22","slug":"dorothy-parker-a-telephone-call","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lecturia.org\/en\/short-stories\/dorothy-parker-a-telephone-call\/8769\/","title":{"rendered":"Dorothy Parker: A Telephone Call"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Synopsis<\/strong>: \u201cA Phone Call<\/em>\u201d is a short story by Dorothy Parker, published in January 1928 in The Bookman<\/em>. Through an anxious inner monologue, a woman desperately waits for the man she loves to keep his promise to call her. As she watches the clock and struggles not to succumb to the temptation to dial him, her mind wanders between hope, pleading, and humiliation. With an intimate and direct style, Parker sharply portrays the emotional fragility, the self-deception, and the intensity of unrequited desire in an everyday but deeply moving situation.<\/p>\n\n\n

\n
\n
\"Dorothy<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n

A Telephone Call<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Dorothy Parker
(Full story)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Please, God, let him telephone me now. Dear God, let him call me now. I won\u2019t ask anything else of You, truly I won\u2019t. It isn\u2019t very much to ask. It would be so little to You, God, such a little, little thing. Only let him telephone now. Please, God. Please, please, please.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If I didn\u2019t think about it, maybe the telephone might ring. Sometimes it does that. If I could think of something else. If I could think of something else. Maybe if I counted five hundred by fives, it might ring by that time. I\u2019ll count slowly. I won\u2019t cheat. And if it rings when I get to three hundred, I won\u2019t stop; I won\u2019t answer it until I get to five hundred. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty\u2026 Oh, please ring. Please.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is the last time I\u2019ll look at the clock. I will not look at it again. It\u2019s ten minutes past seven. He said he would telephone at five o\u2019clock. \u201cI\u2019ll call you at five, darling.\u201d I think that\u2019s where he said \u201cdarling.\u201d I\u2019m almost sure he said it there. I know he called me \u201cdarling\u201d twice, and the other time was when he said good-by. \u201cGood-by, darling.\u201d He was busy, and he can\u2019t say much in the office, but he called me \u201cdarling\u201d twice. He couldn\u2019t have minded my calling him up. I know you shouldn\u2019t keep telephoning them\u2014I know they don\u2019t like that. When you do that, they know you are thinking about them and wanting them, and that makes them hate you. But I hadn\u2019t talked to him in three days\u2014not in three days. And all I did was ask him how he was; it was just the way anybody might have called him up. He couldn\u2019t have minded that. He couldn\u2019t have thought I was bothering him. \u201cNo, of course you\u2019re not,\u201d he said. And he said he\u2019d telephone me. He didn\u2019t have to say that. I didn\u2019t ask him to, truly I didn\u2019t. I\u2019m sure I didn\u2019t. I don\u2019t think he would say he\u2019d telephone me, and then just never do it. Please don\u2019t let him do that, God. Please don\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll call you at five, darling.\u201d \u201cGood-by, darling.\u201d He was busy, and he was in a hurry, and there were people around him, but he called me \u201cdarling\u201d twice. That\u2019s mine, that\u2019s mine. I have that, even if I never see him again. Oh, but that\u2019s so little. That isn\u2019t enough. Nothing\u2019s enough, if I never see him again. Please let me see him again, God. Please, I want him so much. I want him so much. I\u2019ll be good, God. I will try to be better, I will, if You will let me see him again. If You will let him telephone me. Oh, let him telephone me now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ah, don\u2019t let my prayer seem too little to You, God. You sit up there, so white and old, with all the angels about You and the stars slipping by. And I come to You with a prayer about a telephone call. Ah, don\u2019t laugh, God. You see, You don\u2019t know how it feels. You\u2019re so safe, there on Your throne, with the blue swirling under You. Nothing can touch You; no one can twist Your heart in his hands. This is suffering, God, this is bad, bad suffering. Won\u2019t You help me? For Your Son\u2019s sake, help me. You said You would do whatever was asked of You in His name. Oh, God, in the name of Thine only beloved Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord, let him telephone me now.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I must stop this. I mustn\u2019t be this way. Look. Suppose a young man says he\u2019ll call a girl up, and then something happens, and he doesn\u2019t. That isn\u2019t so terrible, is it? Why, it\u2019s going on all over the world, right this minute. Oh, what do I care what\u2019s going on all over the world? Why can\u2019t that telephone ring? Why can\u2019t it, why can\u2019t it? Couldn\u2019t you ring? Ah, please, couldn\u2019t you? You damned, ugly, shiny thing. It would hurt you to ring, wouldn\u2019t it? Oh, that would hurt you. Damn you, I\u2019ll pull your filthy roots out of the wall, I\u2019ll smash your smug black face in little bits. Damn you to hell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No, no, no. I must stop. I must think about something else. This is what I\u2019ll do. I\u2019ll put the clock in the other room. Then I can\u2019t look at it. If I do have to look at it, then I\u2019ll have to walk into the bedroom, and that will be something to do. Maybe, before I look at it again, he will call me. I\u2019ll be so sweet to him, if he calls me. If he says he can\u2019t see me tonight, I\u2019ll say, \u201cWhy, that\u2019s all right, dear. Why, of course it\u2019s all right.\u201d I\u2019ll be the way I was when I first met him. Then maybe he\u2019ll like me again. I was always sweet, at first. Oh, it\u2019s so easy to be sweet to people before you love them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I think he must still like me a little. He couldn\u2019t have called me \u201cdarling\u201d twice today, if he didn\u2019t still like me a little. It isn\u2019t all gone, if he still likes me a little; even if it\u2019s only a little, little bit. You see, God, if You would just let him telephone me, I wouldn\u2019t have to ask You anything more. I would be sweet to him, I would be gay, I would be just the way I used to be, and then he would love me again. And then I would never have to ask You for anything more. Don\u2019t You see, God? So won\u2019t You please let him telephone me? Won\u2019t You please, please, please?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Are You punishing me, God, because I\u2019ve been bad? Are You angry with me because I did that? Oh, but, God, there are so many bad people\u2014You could not be hard only to me. And it wasn\u2019t very bad; it couldn\u2019t have been bad. We didn\u2019t hurt anybody, God. Things are only bad when they hurt people. We didn\u2019t hurt one single soul; You know that. You know it wasn\u2019t bad, don\u2019t You, God? So won\u2019t You let him telephone me now?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If he doesn\u2019t telephone me, I\u2019ll know God is angry with me. I\u2019ll count five hundred by fives, and if he hasn\u2019t called me then, I will know God isn\u2019t going to help me, ever again. That will be the sign. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, forty, forty-five, fifty, fifty-five \u2026 It was bad. I knew it was bad. All right, God, send me to hell. You think You\u2019re frightening me with Your hell, don\u2019t You? You think Your hell is worse than mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I mustn\u2019t. I mustn\u2019t do this. Suppose he\u2019s a little late calling up\u2014that\u2019s nothing to get hysterical about. Maybe he isn\u2019t going to call\u2014maybe he\u2019s coming straight up here without telephoning. He\u2019ll be cross if he sees I have been crying. They don\u2019t like you to cry. He doesn\u2019t cry. I wish to God I could make him cry. I wish I could make him cry and tread the floor and feel his heart heavy and big and festering in him. I wish I could hurt him like hell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He doesn\u2019t wish that about me. I don\u2019t think he even knows how he makes me feel. I wish he could know, without my telling him. They don\u2019t like you to tell them they\u2019ve made you cry. They don\u2019t like you to tell them you\u2019re unhappy because of them. If you do, they think you\u2019re possessive and exacting. And then they hate you. They hate you whenever you say anything you really think. You always have to keep playing little games. Oh, I thought we didn\u2019t have to; I thought this was so big I could say whatever I meant. I guess you can\u2019t, ever. I guess there isn\u2019t ever anything big enough for that. Oh, if he would just telephone, I wouldn\u2019t tell him I had been sad about him. They hate sad people. I would be so sweet and so gay, he couldn\u2019t help but like me. If he would only telephone. If he would only telephone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe that\u2019s what he is doing. Maybe he is coming on here without calling me up. Maybe he\u2019s on his way now. Something might have happened to him. No, nothing could ever happen to him. I can\u2019t picture anything happening to him. I never picture him run over. I never see him lying still and long and dead. I wish he were dead. That\u2019s a terrible wish. That\u2019s a lovely wish. If he were dead, he would be mine. If he were dead, I would never think of now and the last few weeks. I would remember only the lovely times. It would be all beautiful. I wish he were dead. I wish he were dead, dead, dead.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is silly. It\u2019s silly to go wishing people were dead just because they don\u2019t call you up the very minute they said they would. Maybe the clock\u2019s fast; I don\u2019t know whether it\u2019s right. Maybe he\u2019s hardly late at all. Anything could have made him a little late. Maybe he had to stay at his office. Maybe he went home, to call me up from there, and somebody came in. He doesn\u2019t like to telephone me in front of people. Maybe he\u2019s worried, just a little, little bit, about keeping me waiting. He might even hope that I would call him up. I could do that. I could telephone him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I mustn\u2019t. I mustn\u2019t, I mustn\u2019t. Oh, God, please don\u2019t let me telephone him. Please keep me from doing that. I know, God, just as well as You do, that if he were worried about me, he\u2019d telephone no matter where he was or how many people there were around him. Please make me know that, God. I don\u2019t ask You to make it easy for me\u2014You can\u2019t do that, for all that You could make a world. Only let me know it, God. Don\u2019t let me go on hoping. Don\u2019t let me say comforting things to myself. Please don\u2019t let me hope, dear God. Please don\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I won\u2019t telephone him. I\u2019ll never telephone him again as long as I live. He\u2019ll rot in hell, before I\u2019ll call him up. You don\u2019t have to give me strength, God; I have it myself. If he wanted me, he could get me. He knows where I am. He knows I\u2019m waiting here. He\u2019s so sure of me, so sure. I wonder why they hate you, as soon as they are sure of you. I should think it would be so sweet to be sure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It would be so easy to telephone him. Then I\u2019d know. Maybe it wouldn\u2019t be a foolish thing to do. Maybe he wouldn\u2019t mind. Maybe he\u2019d like it. Maybe he has been trying to get me. Sometimes people try and try to get you on the telephone, and they say the number doesn\u2019t answer. I\u2019m not just saying that to help myself; that really happens. You know that really happens, God. Oh, God, keep me away from that telephone. Keep me away. Let me still have just a little bit of pride. I think I\u2019m going to need it, God. I think it will be all I\u2019ll have.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh, what does pride matter, when I can\u2019t stand it if I don\u2019t talk to him? Pride like that is such a silly, shabby little thing. The real pride, the big pride, is in having no pride. I\u2019m not saying that just because I want to call him. I am not. That\u2019s true, I know that\u2019s true. I will be big. I will be beyond little prides.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Please, God, keep me from telephoning him. Please, God.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t see what pride has to do with it. This is such a little thing, for me to be bringing in pride, for me to be making such a fuss about. I may have misunderstood him. Maybe he said for me to call him up, at five. \u201cCall me at five, darling.\u201d He could have said that, perfectly well. It\u2019s so possible that I didn\u2019t hear him right. \u201cCall me at five, darling.\u201d I\u2019m almost sure that\u2019s what he said. God, don\u2019t let me talk this way to myself. Make me know, please make me know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ll think about something else. I\u2019ll just sit quietly. If I could sit still. If I could sit still. Maybe I could read. Oh, all the books are about people who love each other, truly and sweetly. What do they want to write about that for? Don\u2019t they know it isn\u2019t true? Don\u2019t they know it\u2019s a lie, it\u2019s a God damned lie? What do they have to tell about that for, when they know how it hurts? Damn them, damn them, damn them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I won\u2019t. I\u2019ll be quiet. This is nothing to get excited about. Look. Suppose he were someone I didn\u2019t know very well. Suppose he were another girl. Then I\u2019d just telephone and say, \u201cWell, for goodness\u2019 sake, what happened to you?\u201d That\u2019s what I\u2019d do, and I\u2019d never even think about it. Why can\u2019t I be casual and natural, just because I love him? I can be. Honestly, I can be. I\u2019ll call him up, and be so easy and pleasant. You see if I won\u2019t, God. Oh, don\u2019t let me call him. Don\u2019t, don\u2019t, don\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

God, aren\u2019t You really going to let him call me? Are You sure, God? Couldn\u2019t You please relent? Couldn\u2019t You? I don\u2019t even ask You to let him telephone me this minute, God; only let him do it in a little while. I\u2019ll count five hundred by fives. I\u2019ll do it so slowly and so fairly. If he hasn\u2019t telephoned then, I\u2019ll call him. I will. Oh, please, dear God, dear kind God, my blessed Father in Heaven, let him call before then. Please, God. Please.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

THE END<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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