The Voice on the Cassette

Rosa borrowed a cassette player to hear a recording her father had made before she was born. She expected stories or advice, something worth the trouble of finding a machine that still worked. Instead, his voice announced the price of timber, followed by measurements for shelves and a complaint about the neighbour's dog barking all afternoon.

She nearly stopped the tape. Then she heard him laugh at a remark made by someone outside the room. He sounded younger than she had ever known him, careless in a way that seemed almost impolite. The father she remembered had spoken slowly and worried about money. This man interrupted his measurements to imitate an advertisement from the radio.

Rosa called her aunt to ask whose voice appeared in the background. Her aunt suggested two names, then changed her mind. Rosa wanted certainty, but her aunt warned that she was guessing. They listened together over the telephone, replaying a few seconds until the ordinary remark began to sound like a message neither of them could quite understand.

Eventually, Rosa recorded a digital copy and labelled it with the year followed by a question mark. She included the timber prices and the barking complaint rather than cutting them out. Her father had not made the tape for her, and perhaps that was why she wanted to keep it. For half an hour, he could exist without having to be anybody's father.