Kallen opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but for a moment no sound came out. He could only draw a deep breath and blink hard several times to keep the tears in his eyes from gathering into drops.
"Hello? This is the Immoreles Funeral Company."
On the other end, Uncle Mason repeated himself.
Kallen's gaze wandered over the paintings hanging on the study walls. There was a feeling called the fear of nearing home. If he were only writing a letter, there would have been no problem, but once he heard that voice, the face of the person on the other end, his whole figure, the people around him, the living room, the yard, the second-floor kitchen, the third-floor bedrooms-all those feelings and scenes appeared before his eyes in an instant.
Before this, Kallen had never considered himself a sentimental person. He liked to handle and organize his life calmly; he could even be said to resist letting his emotions affect his reason. But reality told him that he was not the exception.
Just then,
Uncle Mason, who still had not received a reply from Kallen, seemed to sense something. He lowered his voice and asked, unmistakably excited,
"Kallen, is that you?"
Kallen clenched his teeth,
and finally spoke.
"Uncle."
"Oh, Kallen, you're all right! You're all right! Hahaha, you're all right, you're all right!"
Uncle Mason practically shouted on the other end. Through the receiver, Kallen could hear leather shoes jumping on the floor.
"Uncle, I'm all right. I'm doing well," Kallen said.
"Kallen, are you in Vien now? Oh, listen to me-of course you're in Vien. You..."
"Hello, Kallen?"
Aunt Mary's voice came through the phone.
"Kallen, is it really Kallen?"
"It's me, Aunt Mary. Have you been feeling-"
"You heartless little beast! Why did you only just