CIRCUMSTANTIAL

The Call

Sitting at my kitchen table, stuck on problem number 4 of Algebra, I didn't know about the line that was about to be drawn between today and the rest of my life. I thought that line had been drawn 2 years ago when Mom bought me and her bus tickets to Toledo in the middle of the night. Turns out that was only the beginning.

I was home alone, but that was normal. It was all part of our schedule - me and Mom's. I got back from school at 2:30 and Mom showed up at 4. Then she'd cook dinner for the two of us.

Eventually the numbers seemed to be scattered across the page. I let my pencil fall out of my hand and onto the table. There was a dust bunny next to where it landed, which I blew away. The phone rang.

Looking back, that should have been the first sign something wasn't totally right. If people wanted to call us, it was through my Mom's cell phone, never our house. Still, I answered without question.

"Hello?"

"Is the the Joneses? Home of Gladys Jones?"

"Yes," I didn't recognize the other voice, so I spoke with caution.

"Who is this?"

I lightened up a little bit. It was a general question, without pressure.

I didn't have much experience with picking up calls. Most of them weren't for me. "Jellybean Jones. I'm her daughter."

"This is the Toledo Police Department," Why didn't that strike me as odd? Ruffling papers. I fought the urge to yawn. "Were you with your mother at three o'clock this afternoon?"

I stared at my feet, bare on the hardwood floor, frowning. His question had chilled me. "No. She's working."

Maybe if he knew I was just a kid, alone in my house, trying to do homework, he'd leave me alone. But he had no idea who I was. I wondered if maybe this was about my Dad.

Maybe he came back. I felt guilty for the little bit of hope that fluttered when I thought that.

No. It's not about Dad, stop thinking about him.

It had been 2 years since I'd seen him, and months since we talked. In fact I had almost forgotten completely about him and Riverdale altogether.

What brought it back was Mom telling me Jughead had called last week. He had wanted to come here. She turned him down.

'Space is too tight, Jellybean…' I was remembering her explanation. I looked at our sofa and tried to imagine my brother sleeping on it. There was plenty of room for him.

I wished he was here; here to take this call for me.

"You haven't seen your mother since then?"

Speaking of the phone call… "No. Why are you calling?" I said with force. I didn't want him to realize I was actually worried.

"Uh, Jellybean," I knew the officer was tripping on my name when he paused before going on. Normally, it annoyed me, but I smirked. "a woman's - body - was found and brought in thirty minutes or so ago. She appears to match your mother's identity. Did you know of anything your mother might've been doing today, honey…?"

It's really weird how the kitchen could turn ice-cold in a matter of seconds. "What? No!" I tightened my knuckles around the receiver. I hated people calling me 'honey.' "The woman you have is not my mother."

I remember her, just this morning, she had sat here at the kitchen table reading PEOPLE magazine after cooking me breakfast. She had told me she didn't have any plans today except for work.

The officer sighed, making me wonder if this was something he did on the daily, informing young girls they have a body at the station who looked like their mother.

Their mother… the only one they had left… I squeezed my eyes shut tight, just wanting to hang up.

"Well, we aren't for certain yet. Tests are still being run…"

"It's not her."

I wanted the officer to believe my mother was alive as much as I did.

God, I also wanted to rip the phone right off the wall and throw it, then go back to when I had nothing to do this evening, but math homework.

Problem number 4 seemed like a lot less of a dilemma now.

"Like I said, hun, we don't know anything until -"

"I know it's not her," Seriously, was I being that hard to understand? "she... was fine this morning…"

The officer paused, giving me a moment of silence to take a breath.

Please don't be happening, please don't be happening...

As soon as my hand stopped shaking - which I hadn't realized - he bombarded me with another stupid question. "Are you her only surviving relative? It says you're the only one living here in Toledo with her, at least."

Only surviving relative. That made us - me and my Mom - sound so lonely, like a tiny little island stranded in Ohio.

"No, my dad and my brother in River -" What was I saying, again? "it's not her, sir. You must have the wrong lady, or something, there's lots of people who could look like my mother."

"Do you have an adult with you, right now, Jellybean?"

"No." I leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. It had taken me 2 years, but I finally knew all the shapes and patterns in it.

Could this be over, please?

"Ok, well, just hang in there for second. Don't hang up. The DNA results were just finalized, we have the identity of whoever it was. I'm really sorry about this, hun."

"Wait! -"

Click. And suddenly, it was silent. I was on hold. My arm dangled down my my side, barely even holding onto the phone anymore.

I wanted to let it drop.

No, I wanted Mom…

Tears started pricking in my eyes. At school, I was a tough kid, I was Jellybean Jones. People didn't bother me much because I didn't let them.

Now was different. There was no one here to bother me, but still, I was about to bawl like a baby.

12-year-old me from Riverdale who snuck into drive-in movies with Jughead would never recognize me now. But for a minute it was like I was back there.

To distract myself from the anomaly occurring via phone-call I let myself pretend I was in the trunk, squished together with my brother. We were going to see Jaws for the 5th time. We weren't bored of it, yet, though.

In the reciever, I could hear the cop calling for me to come back.

I brought it back to my ear, back to reality. "Yeah?"

I was annoyed to hear my voice came out stuffy.

"Jellybean Jones? The test results just came back," My hand tightened again. In my peripheral, I see my knuckles turn white.

Get to the point, please…

..."the body did in fact identify to be your mother, Gladys Jones. I understand your father is in Riverdale -"

"Yeah, he is," Was that me talking? Things were getting blurry. I had to look down to keep myself from fainting. It felt like someone had squeezed all the air out of my lungs.

"Measures have been taken to contact him. A neighbor of yours is coming over for right now -"

"Yeah, ok. Thanks, sheriff."

"I'm very sorry about the circumstances."

"I know."

I slammed the receiver down. Hard. It shook a family photo hanging on the wall next to it. We all seemed so young in it, even Mom and Dad.

And now Mom was dead. This couldn't be happening.

This time, I really did rip the receiver out of the wall. Cord and all. I stared at it limp in my hand for a minute. Then I chucked it as hard as I could at that frame.

Our happy faces were shattered.

Then I realized; she was murdered. Someone murdered my mother.

The picture fell to the floor. Bang. The shards were beyond repair. I grabbed the bent photo out of the glass.

I didn't have long to look at it. A neighbor was coming. I had to leave before whoever it was came, and I knew exactly where I was going.

Don't worry, I have this whole crazy plot planned out.

FYI: This takes place after Clifford Blossom is identified as Jason's murderer. nothing else occurs. the black hood isn't a thing, and Fred Andrews is not shot. but don't worry, drama will ensue

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