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Sound throbbing through his head and neck. As he tried to move, he realized that he was lying on a slant, his head halfway down into the entrance of the underground way station.Desperate for air, he gasped heavily, the hot, acrid atmosphere burning his throat and lungs as he inhaled. He coughed, and the jerking motion made him realize that he was at least partially pinned down by something. Forcing his eyes open, he gazed up into the bloated afternoon sun, partially obscured by low flying clouds.As he gazed upward, he began to remember what had happened. This collapsed structure he found himself in was the entrance to an underground way station ten miles outside of Nashville. He was on his way back to the capitol after a yearlong exploration of the northeastern states. He'd spent the day underground, protected by the gentle earth from the ravages of the cruel sun (not that he really needed it – when he was by himself, he traveled by day or by night as it suited him since he remained. After some gentle verbal prodding, she finally opened up a little bit about what had been bothering her, “I did a really dumb thing today and we need to get a new phone number.”All I could manage was a less than brilliant, “What?” Once my brain started working again, I tried to put a few words together in what, at the time, seemed like a long sentence. I sat up and looked her directly into her eyes and said, “Seriously?”She didn’t offer to tell me what happened, she just kept repeating, “We need a new phone number!”I finally got her to give me a little more information. Apparently the phone rang at around 10:30 that morning. I often call her from work at about that time, so the call was not unexpected. She said that she thought it was me calling and that I was pretending to be someone else (I have done that in the past). To further stress the point, she said that the voice on the phone sounded like one of my phony voices. From the start of the call she said that the guy had seemed.
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