Changing Tides

Frustration and Waiting

"Y'get fifteen minutes, Niccals," the prison guard who worked in his block told the raven haired man as he and another guard let go of him near the phone.

He would have snapped some comment back at him, but he needed to make this call so he held his tongue.

The short prisoner dialed a number, one he still had in his head after so many years. He hoped that it still rang him up, since it had been so long since he had used it last. He could have easily changed it.

He tapped his long, dark nails on the plastic handset.

'Better not have changed your number', he thought to himself.

The phone rang once, a second time, a third time, a fourth- it didn't seem like anyone would answer. He tapped his long nail on his thumb on the handset of the phone.

Even if it was the right number, there wasn't any reason for him to want to answer. The prison number would most definitely look like a scam if he had upgraded his house phone at all.

The phone rang a fifth time before there was verbal silence on the other end.

"Er..ah...Ace? It's Murdoc..."

Noodle had checked the mail the week before, unless they were waiting for something important, they let the mail pile up a little.

She had been the first one up and after skimming the week thick pile of envelopes to ensure there wasn't anything for her, until she saw a letter with an eye catching. A big red stamp imprinted on the white envelope that read Wormwood Scrubs Inmate #24602,  their address and her name were also imprinted.

She hadn't answered any of his phone calls. No one did. There were still a lot of feelings that were unresolved with him. And that 2-D seemed to recently stop moping around and became more active.

But she at least checked it to make sure there wasn't anything going on that they actually needed to know about.

She read the first few kinds of the letter after she tore the envelope open with her pocket knife and looked at the letter, reading it in full. It read:

Noodle,

          I want my band to continue without me for a while since I don't have an idea of how long this shit lawyer is gonna take getting me out.

          I called up a favor from an old mate of mine. His name is Ace Couplar and should get in touch with you soon, hopefully after you look at this. Make him feel welcome, I believe you'll get along well with him.
        
Thanks for answering all our calls by the by. And, yes, jail is good, luckily they've got it great here and I'm taking a Zumba class, a class in music theory, and plenty of free time to continue writing for the next album. I don't even miss our condemned, wreck of a house at this point. This place is like a nice vacation from bullshits there.

        Anyways, keep Cortez from mauling Ace to death if you would, and actually answer my calls next time. I'd actually like to know how my band's new album is coming along.

       Aaaand-don't get too comfy with him, I'll see you lot soon enough.

                 The one and only,

                                              -Murdoc

She finished reading and pinned the letter to the fridge with a letter magnet so she'd keep the name in mind and be able to remember it all.

Only a few hours later, Noodle heard her phone buzz as she was working on some art on her computer. She sighed and then slowly reached for her mobile phone.