The Hazing Tower by Leland Roys

broken for a month.”
    He pushed an antique looking phone to her across the counter. “You sure you’re OK? Is that Alex’s Ferrari?”
    “You know him?”
    “Of course, such a nice man. So kind. Oh! Are you with him?”
    “I’m going to need your statement later. And no, I am NOT with him.”
    She picked up the phone. A dial tone! Finally, life was making sense again.
    Her finger started to dial 911 when it happened. She glanced down at the newspaper stack on the counter. She dropped the handset and grabbed onto the glass counter.
    “Miss? Is the phone broken again?”
    She slowly lifted the paper up and looked again at the front page. Sept. 29, 2014.
    “Miss! Are you OK?”
    “You! What’s your name?”
    “Mike, everyone calls me Mikey.”
    “Mike, Mikey, is this a sick joke? It’s 2013. What is this?” she screamed, pointing to the newspaper masthead.
    “Miss, I don’t understand. It is 2014. It’s September 2014.”
    She pulled all the papers out, one by one, 2014, 2014, 2014. She ran outside and stumbled to the paper rack in front of the building. Sept. 29, 2014.
    It couldn’t be. Nikki sat down next to the wall and stared out at nothing. Her mind felt totally blank. She felt a hand touch her.
    “Miss, do you want me to call for help? Are you sick?”
    “I’m sorry I yelled at you before. Can I use your phone again?”
    “Of course!” He helped her up. “I didn’t mean to imply you were sleeping with Sir Alex; it’s just that you seem like a nice girl. And he needs a woman’s touch in his life.”
    The confusion in her head was gaining steam. “He isn’t married?”
    “Oh, no, his wife died a long time ago, I’m sorry to say. He never married again. He seems quite lonely if you ask me.”
    She picked up the phone and dialed Dianne; at least she still had her memory.
    “Records Division.”
    “Dianne! It’s me, Nikki!”
    There was a pause.
    “Hey you sick fuck! If I find you, I’ll rip you limb from limb. How dare you —”
    “Dianne! It’s me! What’s wrong with you?”
    “Nikki died almost a year ago and you know it. Stop messing with me. I’ll find you, I’ll trace this call.”
    “Dianne, the affair. You had an affair; you told only me, remember? Only I would know. With Kendrick. The affair.”
    Another pause. Longer this time.
    “Nikki? Is that really you? It can’t be.”
    “It’s me, Dianne. I need your help.”
    “I was at your funeral. I gave your eulogy. You died.”
    “I don’t know how, but I’m here, I’m alive, I mean — I don’t know. Dianne, please, I need to ask you something.”
    “Anything.”
    “This is going to sound crazy. What year is it? What month and year, Dianne?”
    “It’s September. September 2014. Nikki, listen to me, are you still there?”
    Nikki was shaking. The phone almost dropped out of her hand.
    “I’m here.”
    “If this is really you, Nikki, don’t tell me where you are, OK? Don’t come back yet. Someone has been coming around, asking questions. You know how I can tell when someone is bad, how I always could?”
    “Yes. You have that sixth sense about people.”
    “Well, these are bad guys, I can feel it to my core. Stay dead for now. Find a way to contact me again, but not on this phone.”
    “Got it. I’m sorry, Dianne. And hey, be careful yourself, maybe take some time off. Let me try to figure this out.”
    “Is Zoey OK?” She guessed it was a stupid question. But Zoey meant so much to her.
    “Of course, she is! She misses you though. It took some time before she warmed up to me.”
    “I love you, Dianne. I’m so sorry about all this.”
    She hung up and looked around. She found a chair and sat down. She wiped the tears from her eyes.
    “Where am I?”
    “Upstate New York, by Debar Mountain,” the station operator answered. “Closest real town is Malone. Surprising how you drive out of the city and it’s like a different world.”
    She nodded.
    “You said Alex is a good person?”
    “Oh, yes! He