Part 25 (1/2)
PING PICKED UP Mara's meditation crystal and took it to the metal cabinet, placing it on a shelf. He swung back the doors and leaned inside with both hands. When he straightened, he held an antique wooden cathedral-shaped tabletop radio.
”Oh! That's a Philco 90,” Mara said, getting up from her mat, reaching for the radio.
”No, no. Sit down. No touching.” He nodded back to her mat with his forehead.
”Does it work? Look at the woodwork, the columns on the front, the fancy speaker grille, very cool. It looks like the outside is in great shape. Wow, those were built in the early '30s.”
Ping set the radio on the ground next to his mat, facing Mara, but out of her reach. He dusted off his hands on his pants, walked over to close the cabinet and returned to his mat.
”I see I have your attention,” he said, smiling.
”I've seen radios like this before, but I've never gotten to work on one. I'd love to get this to work if it doesn't already.”
”As a matter of fact, I'm not sure if this works.” Ping smiled again. ”That's what we are going to do today, see if we can get it to work.”
”Yeah, I get the feeling there's a catch.” She half glanced at Ping, never turning her face away from the radio.
”You can work on it all you want,” he said. ”You just can't touch it. Not with your hands and not with any tools.”
”What? How's that supposed to work?”
”Use your ability. You are a progenitor. Concentrate on the radio and make it work. Shape reality with your will.”
”You still think I can fix things metaphysically instead of mechanically. Is this radio supposed to be my talisman?”
”In a way. I do think you may be using your abilities without realizing it. Let's give it a go and see if we get anywhere. What can it hurt?”
”I've never fixed something with my mind before.”
”Well, now is your opportunity.”
”What do you want me to do?”
”What do you normally do when you are given a broken device?”
”The first thing I usually do is touch it.”
”And then?”
”Then I open it up and a.s.sess it, learn how it is put together.”
”Okay, close your eyes. I want you to do the same process in your mind, in your imagination.”
She surprised him by closing her eyes without arguing further.
”Now talk me through the process of working on this radio. Tell me what you are imagining,” he said, lowering his voice to a soothing tone. He rested his arm on the arch of the radio's wooden casing.
”I run my fingers over the front of the casing to make sure nothing is loose or ready to fall off. Then I jiggle the k.n.o.bs to make sure they are seated well, and I slowly turn each one, leaving the Power b.u.t.ton for last. I turn it to make sure it works properly. I don't plug it in yet. I don't want to power it up until I have a chance to make sure all the wiring and electrical components look okay. I don't want to fry anything by turning it on too soon. I look at the back. I remove the wooden backing on the case and expose the electrical components.”
”What do you see inside the back?”
”There's a tin platform holding the tubes and capacitors and other components. There is a switch built into the tin platform. Wires lead to the dials and k.n.o.bs on the front of the casing.”
”The electronics look new, in working order, don't they?” Ping asked.
”I don't see anything that looks broken, worn or grounded. It looks like it is in working order.”
”Now what should we do?”
”We need to plug it in. It needs some power.”
”I'll take care of that,” Ping said, getting up and walking behind the closet. A second later he returned with an extension cord. He plugged the radio's power cord into it. ”Okay, ready to go.”
”Now I need to turn the k.n.o.b in the center until it clicks.” Mara's voice faded. Her brow furrowed as she envisioned the radio coming to life. She heard low static, she imagined reaching for the volume b.u.t.ton, turned it, and the volume grew louder. The sound did not come from her imagination. She opened her eyes, and Ping smiled as static echoed throughout the empty warehouse.
”You turned it on when my eyes were closed.”
He shook his head. ”I would not do that. Close your eyes and concentrate. I want you to focus on doing what I tell you.”
She tried to protest.
”I said close your eyes.”
She closed her mouth and then her eyes.
”I want you to find a station. Tune the radio until you find a station. See if that dial works.”
She envisioned adjusting the dial. Almost immediately the static changed tones as the dial s.h.i.+fted across the spectrum. Mara opened one eye to see if Ping was playing with the radio. He wasn't, but his eyes were round, and his mouth gaped.
”What?” Mara asked.
The static stopped changing as if she had stopped turning the dial. Ping dropped the surprised expression, shook his head and pointed to her eye. She closed the eye and went back to the dial in her mind. The static grew louder, until it hit a station.
”...man is going to ruin our country. I cannot believe that he got reelected,” a voice boomed out of the wooden radio. AM talk.
In her mind, she continued to dial, heard more static, then the Bee Gees' ”Sat.u.r.day Night Fever” blared. She dialed some more until she hit ”Jesus Take the Wheel” by Carrie Underwood. More static. She turned the volume k.n.o.b until it lowered to the point she could no longer hear anything. She opened her eyes.
”What were you so weirded out about a minute ago?” she said.
”For a second, it looked like you flickered,” he said.
”Flickered? I flickered?”
”I think it must have been a trick of the light. One of the fluorescent tubes up there must be getting ready to go out.”
She looked up at the lights. None of them appeared to be sputtering the way they do before they burn out. She arched an eyebrow at Ping. ”I think if I was flickering, I would know it.”