On the outskirts of Beguile, across the railway tracks, sits a small motel. Its cheap rates and unremarkable decor attract many transient travellers passing through Beguile, who spend a night or two in the budget rooms.
On a wall on the outside of the motel office hangs a payphone. It has been there ever since the motel was opened sometime in the seventies
The first guest to use the phone got a helpful operator who introduced herself as Beverly. It soon became apparent that Beverly was a very special operator. Imagine the surprise of the first person to use the phone as he was told, on picking up the receiver, that someone was already on the line waiting for his call. The curious caller inquired about who that might be, and was shocked to hear that it was a relative who had died the previous summer. Assuming that it must be some kind of sick joke, the caller had nevertheless agreed to accept the call. He later claimed to have indeed spoken to his relative, who had passed in a tragic accident. His relative assured him that he was fine, and asked that he send his regards to the rest of the family.
The line went dead, and the caller immediately hung up the receiver before picking it up again to hear the dulcet tones of Beverly once more, this time explaining that the line was dead and that the incoming caller was no longer available.
The rumours spread quickly, as oft happens in small communities, and many more came to use the payphone to speak with relatives who had passed. Beverly only ever allowed them one call, then always claimed that the incoming caller was no longer available and that the line had been severed.
The phone still hangs in the same place on the same wall of the same motel. Beverley always answers.