The first call Louise Bell ever made to Brian Cook occurred on a seemingly ordinary day.

Fresh off of summer vacation and back to school, Brian was an avid golfer who found himself trying to adjust to life not only on sports teams but also in the classroom. After a typical day at his high school of only 124 kids, newly licensed driver, Brian, made his way to the local golf course for a match against a rivaling school.

Despite spending his summer traveling with his family and having very little time on the golf course, Brian was adamant about getting back to the fine form he was in last golf season. In the first match of the season, fighting brutal winds that would send the airborne golf balls 100 yards across the fairway, Brian used grit and precision to get himself through those frigid 9 holes of golf. He went on to post a 38 in the match, helping his team win the first match of the season.

In the past, coaches loosely enforced rules about players using cell phones while in a match. As he approached his car to leave the course, Brian snagged his phone out of the backpack full of blank homework assignments to do what teenagers do best: see if there were any new texts. To his surprise, Brian received nothing new from his friends, but he did find a new voicemail left at 4:44 that evening. This is when it all started.

“John? It’s Louise Bell. Just checking up to see how you were doing. I WILL CALL YOU BACK.”

Perplexed and caught a little off-guard by this stranger mistaking Brian for some guy known as John, Brian did what most teenagers would do in these types of situations: delete the voicemail and move on. That was on September 20th, a day when there was not a cloud in a sky of pure radiance and the start of a month-long drought in his hometown of Wyndham.

Still struggling with the daily routine of waking up in the wee hours of the morning to get to school, the first thing that Brian made sure to check when he rolled out of bed the next day was his best friend: his cell phone. Once again he didn’t wake up to any texts from cute girls or from his friends at school, but he did receive another voicemail, from the same number.

“John? It’s Louise again. It just dawned on me that you might not be able to talk; I just don’t know how bad the situation is. I just want you to know that the rosary beads are very active, and they’ll be ongoing.”

Shaken up a little bit by another voicemail from what sounded like a very old woman, Brian once again did what most teenagers would do in a situation when someone inadvertently calls them: delete the voicemail and move on. That was on September 27th, a day where there were few clouds in a still very bright sky. The drought continued on.

Hoping that this pestering old lady would stop calling for a random guy named John, Brian was starting to lose touch with reality. When he should have been paying attention to his Pre-Calculus teacher instructing him and his fellow classmates about finding the determinant of a 3x3 matrix, Brian could not stop thinking about the mysterious lady named “Louise.”

To his surprise, Brian had not heard from Louise Bell for just about four weeks. No missed calls or voicemails from unknown numbers flooded his phone. During this time of peace, Brian and the golf team were cruising and looked like they were the team to beat in their league. Brian was not only excelling on the course, he was also showing no signs of struggling in the classroom. For the time being, life had returned to normal for seventeen-year-old Brian. When sunrise became sunset on October 24th, Brian went to sleep with no new calls, texts, or voicemails. A rather calm night in comparison to what was yet to come.

Brian woke up the next morning knowing that arguably the biggest match of his high school golf career awaited him. Brian and his golf team were set to play in a winner-take-all match. If Brian and his team were to prevail, they would be crowned league champions for the first time in 34 years. However, if they were to lose, they would be forced to take second place in the league for the fourth year in a row. Second place wouldn’t be such a bad thing, but Brian had been a player in all three of those runner up finishes. Now a senior, and looking to etch his name into local town stardom, Brian knew that the only way for his name to be remembered in Wyndham was to help his team win the match.

As he climbed into his frigid car to drive to school, Brian checked his phone to see if any of his teammates had texted him about plans after the match, when they would presumably be celebrating their historic win. Brian didn’t receive any texts from his teammates. Instead, he received one new voicemail from an unknown number. As the shaky voice started, Brian was able to make out the speaker.

“John? It’s Louise. I know that it’s been awhile since I last called, but I’ve gotten word from your friend Albert that your cell phone is working and that you’ve had a charger all along to keep it from dying. The rosary beads have been by my side ever since I last saw you. I guess I couldn’t get you this time around John, but I will try again.”

Determined not to be distracted by some clueless woman who just didn’t get the hint that the receiver was never going to answer her call, Brian did the one thing that most teenagers would not do in these types of situations: call the person back and tell them that they had the wrong number.

As he was about to press “call back” on his phone, Brian tried to remain calm, relaxed and determined to not allow anything to stop him from winning the golf championship. He called Louise back. RINGRINGRINGRINGRINGRING. He called her, but no one answered. He instead did what Louise had been doing for over the past month: left a voicemail.

“Hey Louise, this is Brian Cook. I believe that you may have been trying to reach the wrong number. Have a good day.”

After school ended, Brian sat in his car contemplating the match ahead of him. As he began to drive over to the golf course, he turned on the radio to listen to the weather forecast for his 4:00 p.m. tee time. The local radio broadcaster took a break from playing music and said he had an important announcement to make. Brian had a gut feeling that the broadcaster was going to acknowledge the golf team as they were heading to play in their championship match.

“Ladies and Gentlemen of Wyndham, it is with great sorrow that I have learned that longtime resident, Louise Bell, passed away this morning. She was found in her home with her phone in her hand. Again, it is with great sorrow that I report to our listeners that Louise Bell, longtime citizen of Wydnham, has passed away at the age of 82 of a sudden heart attack.”

Little did Brian know that while some people would’ve shrugged it all off and continued on with their lives, his life would change that very day. It was 3:40 p.m. and Brian had just parked his car in the golf course’s lot. Before he emerged from his car, a slight tear trickled down his face and onto his shirt. Visibly shaken at the time, Brian tried his hardest to get the death off of his mind, but it was to no avail.

With the teams’ score tied 2-2, all of the pressure was on Brian to seal the victory for himself and his team. One putt could either send the team into hysterics, or it could prolong their quest to be named champions. It was a 5-foot putt with very little break to it. Brian’s strong suit was his ability to putt, and putt under intense pressure. In the eyes of everyone on the links watching history, it was an easy “gimme” of a putt. As he lined the face of the putter up behind the ball, there was not a sound coming from anywhere. Cars stopped to await the putt, golfers quit their chattering to watch the make-or-break putt, and the clouds in the sky halted to let some of the beaming sun shine through.

He pulled the putter back, and made contact with the ball. As it was trickling closer and closer to the 4.5-inch wide hole, the ball broke ever so slightly to the right and lipped the left side of the hole. For the first time all day, at the most important moment of the season, Brian pulled and missed a putt. The other team burst into jubilation, while Brian fell to his knees on the green and tried to hold back the tears. As thoughts of losing the match for his team and the death of the familiar stranger, Louise Bell, seeped into his fragile mind, the softest of tears coursed down his face.

In a voice that no one else could have heard, Brian looked up to darkening clouds and asked them, “Why?” No answer came, but thundering rain that hit the ground like bombs.

It was October 25th, and it rained in Wyndham for the first time since that very first voicemail Louise Bell left Brian Cook.