Note: I had a hard time keeping this one straight. I think I got it right.

Jon lost his phone. He is sure of that. He looked everywhere for it: in his car, yard, and house. He called it a few times from his landline, but the call went straight to voicemail. Like a fool, he left a message and recited his landline number.

Jon lives in the country. High-speed internet stops just short of the farm where he rents an apartment. He uses a cheap DSL service to stream TV, hence the landline, and relies solely on his cell phone for daily internet activities.

Like most people, Jon is totally dependent on his phone. Every person he knows is stored in there as a contact, not to mention the countless photos, videos, and notes. He uses the phone for social media, email, banking, and texting a lot, but he almost never makes phone calls.

Losing the phone is a blow to the normalcy of his life. For the third time that day, Jon looks through the clothes in the hamper and suddenly accepts that the phone is gone. His mission changes, and he digs through the hamper to find something to wear. He must replace the telephone today and restore his life from the cloud. With a plan of action, Jon feels more in control, takes a few deep breaths and then sniffs the armpits of yesterday’s T-shirt. It will do.

***

While looking for the keys to his truck, the landline rings. It hasn’t rung in a very long time since Nance left. Nance was his girlfriend, and she hated the farm, the apartment, and eventually, Jon. After a moment of confusion, Jon realizes what is making the racket and dives across the couch to answer.

‘It’s Jon,’ he announces with his usual greeting. The caller responds in kind, ‘It’s Jon.’ Again, Jon feels confused: ‘Who is this?’ There is silence. Jon can hear the other person breathe: ‘I can hear you, buddy. What do you want?’

A strangely familiar voice responds hesitantly, ‘My name is Jon. Seems we have the same name. I am Jon Olson. I am returning your call about a lost phone. How did you get my number? Why did you call me?’

Jon’s head spins. It is not used to all the confusion; usually, Jon is pretty sure about his thoughts, feelings and experiences. Today is an anomaly. ‘What? Wait? I am also Jon Olson. And the number I called is that of my lost phone.’ Suddenly, Jon’s confidence resurfaces, and he almost shouts, ‘You bastard! You unlocked my phone. This is illegal! How did you do it! What the fuck!’.

Other Jon waits a second to make sure the tirade is over. ‘You have it backwards, buddy. I am Jon Olson, and this is my phone and data! My whole life! Who are you? What kind of scam is this? I have your number, remember? You conveniently left it on a voice message. I bet the cops can find you using that. Explain yourself man!’

Jon is stunned. This fucker has it the wrong way around. He is the one being scammed. How dare he mock him like this. ‘There is nothing to explain! I lost my phone! Somewhere, I don’t know where! And now you have it and are using it. I need it back!’

Helplessness overcomes Jon, and he flops down on the couch. He has to get his property back. He used Faceid, and if this dude managed to bypass that, he would have access to his email, social media, and finances! Jon remembers he can track the phone! He digs for his iPad between the couch pillows and after connecting to his DSL WiFi, he loads the Find-My-Phone app.

It shows the location of his phone, which is right here, in his house! How can that be? He is alone, of that he is sure. The house is not very big, and he would have heard the other party speak. Jon sits up! Sometimes, the answer to life’s mysteries just appears out of nowhere. This is one of those times.

‘Who was your favorite teacher in high school?’ Jon asks. ‘Miss Black’, the answer comes immediately. Jon finds himself standing, like the hair on the back of his neck.

‘Favorite football team?’ ‘I don’t like football, I prefer soccer.’

‘What happened to the pinkie on your left hand?’ Jon asks breathlessly. ‘My sister slammed the car door on my hand, and it crushed my fingers. I lost the tip of that finger!’

‘Barbara!’, both say at the same time.

‘What happened to Barbara?’, other Jon asks, his voice breaking, like he knows the answer and is bracing himself. ‘She took her own life. About some guy who did not want her’, Jon finds that he is sitting again.

‘Andre’, both say at the same time.

‘What is the date?’ Jon asks. ‘November 11, Monday, 2024’, Jon replies. ‘ It’s Saturday. January 11, 2025, for me’, Jon responds. Fuck! He’s talking to himself, a past self!

‘Fuck! I am talking to myself in the future!’ Past Jon says softly, like he is afraid of being overheard. ‘This is madness! This can’t be possible!’

They spent the next hour confirming that it certainly is possible. Future Jon warns past Jon not to speed on December 16th on the 409. They got a pretty hefty speeding ticket on that day. Also, he cautioned that staying away from the prawns at the neighbour’s Christmas party is advisable if he does not want to spend the next day on the toilet.

They decide to talk again in the morning; they share the same time of day at least. Both promise to think about how they can use this to their advantage. Maybe they can become day traders or bet on sports! There are so many possibilities.

***

The doorbell rings. Past-Jon sleepily opens the door for the guy from the telephone company. He is here to install the landline needed for streaming TV. Jon did not sleep well. Talking to himself disturbed him in ways he did not expect, and he stayed awake thinking about how they could make money with this strange connection.

Ten minutes later, the technician was done. The apartment was wired from a previous service, and all he had to do was plug in the device and activate the line. Jon ushers him out the door and dials the number for future Jon.

They need to experiment with bank deposits. If Jon makes a deposit, does future Jon see it in the account? They already verified that they have the same bank information.

Jon listens to the whirs and clicks as the connection is being made, and his heart rate increases when he hears the first ringtone in the cellphone’s earpiece.

Then he hears his new landline ring in the living room.

Fuck!