Peter had detested mobile phones ever since a particular childhood incident involving his best friend, Russell, whose father spent a great deal of time conducting out-of-hours business on his mobile. Both boys had been seven years old at the time. In the playground, a distressed Russell had confided in Peter the events of a recent day trip to an Adventure Farm offering tractor rides for families with young children.
For days, Russell had been eagerly anticipating the visit and the opportunity of finally sharing some quality time with his usually busy father. His father, however, had made the mistake of taking his mobile with him to the farm, and keeping it switched on. Father and son had queued for about ten minutes for a tractor ride. The ginger-haired boy, waiting with his own parents just in front, had displayed such pleasure when climbing on the tractor trailer and enthusiastically sitting down as a family unit. Knowing he and his father were next in line, Russell’s anticipation and excitement rose to almost Christmas Eve proportions. Then, as the ginger-haired boy and his parents returned and alighted to vacate the tractor, it had happened. Russell’s stomach tightened, his broad smile vanished, and his jaw fell as his father’s mobile phone sang out its pathetically banal tune.
‘Daddy has just got to take this call. Okay? …
‘Hi, yeah … No, that’s okay. No problem at all. I’m just out with the kid …
‘Go on, climb up, Russell, there’s a good boy. See you soon. Love you …
‘Sorry about that, Simon. Just putting Russ on some tractor ride. Go ahead.’
As the tractor pulled away, Russell, utterly alone on the ride, watched with moistening eyes as his father turned his back and became sucked into yet another telephone deal. Soon, his sadness turned to bitterness. And, over the ensuing years, this festered into anger, and finally to desperate loathing and depression.
Peter grew up observing the decay of his best friend’s family. The neglect Russell suffered at home brought an increasing strain on him. Peter felt helpless, and sometimes even guilty that his own family situation was so much different to Russell’s.
Finally, the strain became too much for Russell. At sixteen, he committed suicide. As a final gesture, rather than a suicide note, Russell chose to leave a voicemail on his father’s mobile phone. It had the desired effect. Since then, Russell’s father had been a shell of his former self, living a life consisting solely of remorse, until he found a cure through alcohol. Another life ruined.
Peter had lost his best friend, and now he too shared Russell’s hatred of mobile phones, vowing never to own one. He understood the arguments in their favour; but the wreckage of Russell’s family had left a hatred too deep to penetrate by even the most expensive of advertising campaigns. He knew he was in a tiny minority of the population, but being in a minority does not necessarily mean you are wrong.
© Michael Smith 2024-04-15