That Darn Call

That Darn Call

I woke up in the Nibelheim Mansion’s coffin and switched on my handphone, just like every other day…night…whichever. My sleeping time has been irregular as of late…

Why am I here, back in the place where I was sealed for 30 years? Technically, this is my base. Reeve repaired several areas, cleaned out the experimental equipment, and converted the entire place into a library-and-house kind of research facility.

It was obvious that he is up to something.

Reeve then asked me to work for the W.R.O, complete with benefits (I’m sure he offered such because I have little needs; he can afford it even with his rather low cash reserve), but I declined to keep my identity unknown to the world. What else can I, some freak vampire-look-alike, can do but to observe and study the world’s various phenomenons? I study mostly on the effects of post Meteor-crisis and post-geostigma, as well as Shinra’s past experiments, the JENOVA project and other things. I AM uncomfortable living in that house… trust me…but Tifa and Cloud ‘recommended’ that I should stay there to face the remnants of my nightmares…

I do not mind the study; after all it was something I am used to as a Turk. Everyone else got on with their daily lives, their responsibilities and obligations. They needed someone to keep an eye on current events…and things they can’t see from their daily lives. I know that, even when they don’t (blatant optimism in some, just busy in others, remaining have troubles of their own)…so I secretly conducted my own study.

Tonight, however…was different. Instead of merely clipping it on my belt for the rest of my waking hours, I took time to read (and listen, in the case of Marlene…she can’t write yet) the messages. More than usual as well. Rarely anyone other than Cloud and Marlene contacted me…

From Marlene it was, “Uncle Vincent! Sister Yuffie is calling everyone again! I know it because papa was swearing on the phone and the next thing I know he broke it again! It is in bit and pieces! I think this time papa used his gun instead of throwing it on the wall.”
From Reeve it was, “Vincent, are you still unemployed? Get a job ASAP. Can’t reply, no more credit.”
From Cloud it was “Hey Vincent, something is wrong with Yuffie. She’s calling everyone again... I know you don’t like chatterboxes, so try not to answer her call.”
From Tifa…” I think Yuffie tripped into her lonely-teen mood again. Usually I’ll be the one who will listen to her, but I was busy lately…maybe she’ll try to call you since you’re the only one she hasn’t called yet.”
And lastly, from Cid. Filled with filtered profanities, “That *!@%@ brat made my ears BLEED $&*^!!!! I swear that even a goddamn spaceship lifting off is so much #%&# quieter than her ##^#$ mouth!”

The strange thing is, I did not give her my number. She was tolerable as best, but a pain most of the time. Shortly after I’ve read the messages, there was an incoming call. That, was one of the worst mistake I could make things relating to phones.

“Hello?”
“HELLO!!!! HIEEEE!! OMIGOSH!!! YOU ACTUALLY ANSWERED!!!! WHEEEEEEEE!!!”

Now I understand what Cid meant about bleeding ears.

“Yuffie?” I replied as calm and nonchalantly as possible, “How did you get my number?”

“Someway,” she chirped, “Now don’t put down the phone, because I have LOTS of fun stuff to talk about!”

“Fun…stuff?”

“YEAH! FUN stuff!” she screamed into the phone as if she found a mountain of materia. She blabbered on, not waiting for my reply, “Did you check out that cool, COOL upgrades of that super-duper blablablabla…”

So, I sat in my coffin-come-bed listening to all that blabber, chatter and once in a while something that goes along the lines of an ambulance siren. Whatever she says goes in one ear and comes out the other ear, answering with ‘Yes’, “No” and “Hmmm”. It is not that I’m totally uninterested, but I can not comprehend the load of modernity ramming through that one ear in a pitchy, high, bullet-train-speed, high-school-girl voice. To me, it was all some grabbled squeaks, like when you rewind or quick-forward a tape.

“Oi! Are you still alive??”

Finally, something comprehensible as last.

“Yes,” I answered, throwing in a bit of humour, “But Yuffie, I’m 59. I am one generation behind you so I can’t really understand your present ‘culture’”

“Oh, RIGHT! I forgot! Sorry Vinnie!”
“Don’t call me Vinnie,” goodness, I thought I killed that nickname for good.
“Then you understand about materia, right? Y’know, I found these blablablabla…”

Materia. Those little orbs are eternally occupying that little head. This tie, I paid some attention in hopes of receiving something that I don’t know. Unfortunately, so far…nothing that I don’t know. Picking up the clock beside my pillow, I checked the time and noticed that I had spent a whole two hours just listening to her.

Everyone knows that Yuffie is a bit egoistic…maybe very egoistic, at the rate she is talking; loving her own voice.

“Yuffie, I need to have my breakfast.”
“BREAKFAST?!?!?!!”

Immediately I pulled the phone away from my already-throbbing ear. That actually hurt, and I can hear high, ringing sounds from that one ear. I think I’m already half-deaf…

“BUT IT IS NINE AT NIGHT!!! What the HECK are you doing?!”
“It has to be done at night, and I spent the whole day awake yesterday, “I gave no further detail though…

“Jeez, you’re weird,” she muttered.

I thought I finally put her off but…

She continued, in an annoyed tone “Hey Vincent, I just fought with my old man again. This time it wasn’t about Wutai, but it was about ME! He kept complaining that I’m too immature.”
“You are,” I replied with a straight face.

“Who’s asking you?” she snapped back, then continued, “He thinks that matchmaking me with a noble guy will do me good!”
“Mhmmm… I see,” in my heart, I pity the fool who wants to marry her.

“But, argh! I don’t wanna marry! But dad kept on insisting because he said that it’s the best for me and stuff! Aw man, sometimes I wish he’d give in like any other time but noooo this time he really wants me to marry! blablabla…”

She kept yakking about her family problems on and on and on and on…not like we’ve seen enough in Wutai. She is a spoilt, arrogant, brash brat. Her father catered to her every whim, except for the time when she tried to raise Wutai into a major power once again. However, the thought of her father attempting to match-make her with a man almost had me burst out laughing like a hyena. But I kept it under control…and I am hungry. Very hungry. It was almost eleven and I haven’t had anything but water since yesterday. I doubt many would have the mood to laugh when they’re starving.

Rolling my eyes, I told her, “Yuffie, I need to eat…and you need to sleep. Please, call me back later.”

“Oh really? I’m sorry,”
I thought she was going to put down the phone but…
“Eh, you know that one of the suitors hangs a purple moogle on his back! It was so freaking hilarious until I fell down laughing! blablablabla…”

What the… Didn’t she just hear what I said seconds ago??

Losing my patience, I took a deep breath and said all these in one go, “Why did you call me? How did you get my number? What about the rest? I want you to answer it truthfully and clearly.”

“Because you’re the ONLY one who is free!” she whined, “The rest kept on giving excuses like ‘I got work to do’ and ‘There’s a customer’ or ‘I’m expecting a call,’ or…or…all SORTS of excuses! Some even cut off while I was getting to the fun part! I know you won’t do that, first because you’re you and second you don’t have some kind of job or something! You got all the time in the world because, well, like, have no deadline for stuff! You’re FREE!”
“So basically you’re saying that I’m an unemployed hermit with no life.”
“YEAH!”

That, even though it was pretty much the truth, gave me a rather hard blow. For minutes there was just silence.

“Uh…Vincent?” she squeaked, “You’re ok? Hellooooo? Yohooo?”

I couldn’t care less about being my usual professional self anymore. The sole reason I put up with all the chatter was merely because it was rude to just cut someone off in the middle of a conversation. But this time I ignored her totally, and switched off the handphone.

I went back to sleep again, not even hungry anymore.

Curling up in the coffin, I sighed in depression. Although I had always been a quiet, unsocial man…but I liked to… at least…fit in someway… Excuse me for a moment, if you will…

After a couple of hours, I pulled myself together again I began to ponder about Reeve’s message. “A job…” I muttered. Should I join the coup? No…it’ll be too hard for me to keep a low profile if I do. But…maybe…maybe all I need to do is just to register as a scholar or a secret investigator.

Hmmm…I think now it is a good time to talk with the head of W.R.O again.

About 8 in the morning I called Reeve…it went something like this…

“Hello?”
“Vincent here…”
“You sound very tired.”
“Yuffie called me…and I missed yesterday’s meal because of that.”
“Oh…she found your number hm?”
“Yes…and I’ve been thinking about last night’s message…about getting a job. Is there something suitable for me, Reeve?”
“Of course! Actually it is merely registration; all other details can be omitted if you want to. Just for your sake.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’ll just register you as a ‘Private Scholar’ then.”
“A private scholar…?”
“You do a lot of studying, am I right?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t want to be affiliated with any organization as well, right?”
“Mhmm…”
“So you are a private scholar! The only thing you need to do now is just to register yourself as one and you’re officially self-employed.”

I liked it. So I enquired, “How do I register?”

“Come to the Edge and fill out some forms. That’s it,” then he continued, “Why don’t we have a drink in Seventh Heaven after that? Maybe lunch as well. I’m sure the rest will be happy to see you, especially Marlene. Furthermore, many of the orphans think you’re really cool.”

“Hmmm…alright.”

----------------------------------------

“WHAAAAT?!?!” Yuffie screamed through the phone, again, “YOU’RE EMPLOYED?!?!”
“Yes…”

My right eardrum was on the verge of bursting

“I don’t believe it!!” she shrieked.
“Call Reeve then,” I replied calmly, “Now, if you would excuse me…I have work to do.”
“B-but…! Aw MAN…”she ended the call, at last.

I heaved a sigh of relief as I closed my handphone and placed it on the library table. No more Yuffie-ramble. No more phone atrocities. No more nonsense. I got back to my research and readings peacefully; more light-hearted than usual as well. It was euphoric peace; free of the worries that some shrieking kid will come and pester you for hours. One with motion sickness to add.

Aaah…peace and quiet…at last

Beep beep! Beep beep! Beep beep!

What in the world?!

I flipped open my handphone and in blasphemous horror I was continuously bombarded with SMSes from Yuffie! It just kept coming in, one message after another, all with some tongue smiley!

“You’ve received 125 messages…?!” I gasped, and the number kept ticking at an ‘astonishing’ rate. Having enough of such antics, and knowing that this number is now contaminated with “Yuffieism”, I ripped the Prepaid-card out of my handphone, tossed it up into the air and whipped out my gun; shooting it down in midair.

It was…frustrating. The pent-up load has to go somewhere.

I rested my head on my good hand, sighing heavily. Now I had to travel all the way back to the Edge for a new number and to get back ALL the numbers I’ve lost (except Yuffie’s. Never had hers in the first place)… I should have at least copied them down…but at the rate I received those things called “spam” I couldn’t so anything with my phone…

This time, I’ll get a private number. Even if it costs more to maintain, at least Yuffie will never find my exact number.

I hope.