I saw a FB meme the other day in which a man expressed his disappointment that the Universal Remote he had purchased did not, in fact, control the universe. I got a chuckle out of it, but then I thought - wait a minute! What if it DID???
This was the result of that thought.
THE UNIVERSAL REMOTE
A Short Story
By
Lewis B. Smith
“I want a Christmas present for my
Daddy,” six-year-old Samantha said. “But
all I have is ten dollars!”
“I see,” said the shopkeeper. He was tall and skinny and had a grey beard,
with white hair that stuck up in funny tufts on either side of his head. “And what would you like to get for your
father?”
“Something nice!” she said. “Something to make him happy, because he
works all the time and is always tired.”
“A noble sentiment,” the old man
commented. “And what about you, young
man?”
David rolled his eyes, not too happy about
having to take his little sister shopping.
“This is her gift,” he replied. “I already bought Dad something from me. I’m just the chauffer and chaperon on this
expedition!”
“A kind thing to do for one too young
to drive herself,” the shopkeeper said.
He reached across the counter and extended a long white hand. “I am Mister Cain, proprietor of this
establishment. Who might you be?”
“David Simmons, sir,” Dave replied.
“I’m a junior at Hamilton High.”
“Eleventh grade, is it not?” Mr. Cain
asked. “A challenging year, but an
enjoyable one, or so I have heard.”
“That sums it up,” David replied. “I’m taking all honors and dual credit
courses, and I have a lot of homework!
But it’s nice to have a car, and playing on the varsity team is way
better than JV.”
Cain lowered his glasses and looked
out the window at the 2015 Toyota the siblings had emerged from. It was clean and well-kept but had seen
better days.
“An old car for a young man,” he
said.
“It was what we could afford,” David
replied. “Dad helped me pick it out, and
I work part time on weekends to help with the payments.”
“Tell me about this father of yours,”
he said. “Both of you, if you don’t
mind. That will help me pick out an
appropriate gift for him.”
“He’s the bestest daddy ever,”
Samantha said. “He reads me stories and
carries me piggy-back and got me a puppy for my birthday!”
“He does sound like a fine father
figure,” Mr. Cain said with a wry smile.
“What can you add to that, young man?”
“Dad’s pretty cool,” David said. “I mean, he’s kind of a geek, but he’s a good
geek, you know? He knows all sorts of
stuff about history and science and animals and loves to tell funny stories and
lame jokes.”
“Does he like to drink?” Mr. Cain
said. “I have some fairly nice wines I
could let go of for a reasonable price.”
“Oh no,” David said. “He hates alcohol! Doesn’t like the taste or the effect, is how
he puts it.” He looked down at his
little sister and leaned forward, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Our granddad was a mean drunk when Dad was
little,” he explained.
“That will sour any man on the joys of
the vine,” Cain said soberly. “Does your
father have any other vices, or is he a straight arrow all the way around?”
“If he were any more square, he’d be a
Rubik’s Cube,” David said with a laugh.
“But, honestly, I like him that way.
He’s good to my Mom, even when she’s a pain, and he’s patient with me
when I get a case of the stupids.”
“And he taught me how to ride a bike!”
Samantha piped up. “He’s super smart and knows how to fix computers and stuff!”
“He sounds like a most admirable man,”
Cain commented. “What is his
profession?”
“Well, he used to be a science teacher
at our high school,” Dave replied. “But he got really angry about standardized
tests ‘dumbing down the curriculum,’ as he put it, and quit when I was in fifth
grade. Now he works as a manager at a
computer store and does some freelance PC repair on weekends.”
“Mommy works at the mall in the
jewelry store,” Samantha added. “But
they keep slicing her minutes!”
“Cutting her hours, silly,” said
David. “She isn’t making as much as she
did last year, and it’s been hard.”
“But this is for Daddy!” Samantha
said, waving her ten-dollar bill. “Now I
want you to find him something NICE!”
Mister Cain threw back his head and
laughed at this, his thin body shaking with hilarity. His teeth were crooked and a bit yellow, but
there was nothing mocking in his laughter. In fact, David found himself
laughing, too, without knowing exactly why.
“Well, it sounds as if this paragon of
manhood certainly deserves a nice gift, young lady,” he finally said, drawing a
worn handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his eyes. “Let me rummage a bit. I think I have just the thing.”
He turned and disappeared into the
recesses of the shop, and they heard boxes being shifted around in the back
room. David studied the place while they
waited. The building had been empty ever
since he could remember, but the windows had been obscured with shoe polish
several weeks ago, and last weekend a large sign had appeared over the battered
wooden door that read ‘CAIN’S JUNK EMPORIUM – WE’VE GOT JUST WHAT YOU NEED!’ A few days later the windows had been freshly
washed, and a new OPEN sign was hung out on the front door. David had been curious about the place, but
this was the first chance he'd had to browse.
There was a huge bin full of ancient
VHS tapes on one side of the counter, of all genres and ratings – a battered
copy of THE LAND BEFORE TIME rested on top of a luridly illustrated case
containing a movie called THE MICROWAVE MASSACRE. There were DVDs, too, as well as several
shelves of books – some new, some old. A
frame of Indian arrowheads hung on the wall between a black velvet painting of
Elvis and a print of some trippy Renaissance artist whose name David couldn’t
remember. There was all sorts of glassware too, from old medicine bottles to
decorative angels, as well as sleeves of collectible coins, baseball cards, and
furniture that looked like something George Washington might have thrown out.
“Here we are!” said Mr. Cain suddenly,
and David jumped. He had been so focused
on the contents of the shop he hadn’t heard the old man walk back up to the
counter.
“What is it?” asked Samantha.
“It’s a Universal Remote,” the
shopkeeper said. He was holding a
rectangular black box about eight inches long, and as he held it out, David
could see the label on the side with the slogan underneath – ‘Makes Everything
Work the Way You Want!’
“What does it do?” asked Samantha,
staring at it.
“It will control everything in the
house,” said Mr. Cain. “Your Dad can use
it on the TV, his computer, the air conditioning and central heat, you name
it!”
“How does it work?” she asked.
“Dear me, I don’t know,” the old man
said. “I’m not what you call
tech-savvy. But the one I have at home
works wonderfully!”
“Can I see it?” she said.
He opened the box and slid out an
electronic device that was covered in buttons, dials, and knobs. It was enclosed in a clear plastic bag. There was a small booklet rolled up inside
the box as well, that slid halfway out. David could make out the word ‘Manual”
at the bottom.
“One thing I do know, though, is that
your Dad must be the first one to take it out of the plastic and touch it,”
said Mr. Cain. “Otherwise, it won’t work at all.”
“How is that possible?” David asked.
“I think it reads fingerprints,
maybe?” Cain replied. “All I know is
that it will only respond to the first person to touch it.”
“I want it!!” Samantha exclaimed. “How much does it cost?”
“For you, my dear child, I can offer a
discount,” Mr. Cain replied. “A loving
gift from a sincere young heart will cost you $9.99.”
“But all I have is ten dollars!” she
wailed.
David laughed out loud, and then took
her ten and handed it to Cain.
“Nine dollars and ninety-nine cents is
one penny less than ten dollars,” he told her.
“But is there any tax?”
“Already built into the price,” Cain
explained. “Young lady, here is your father’s gift. Let me donate a proper Christmas box to put
it in!”
He ducked below the counter and came
up with a festive red box that sported a large bow on top. He took the lid off,
placed the black box holding the remote inside, and then handed the box to Sam.
“I hope your father enjoys all the
benefits of his new, universal remote, as well as the blessing of a little girl
who loves him so much,” he said, smiling benevolently.
“Thank you, Mister Cain!” Sam said
excitedly.
“Thank you, sir,” echoed David – but
after his little sister turned to the front door, he whispered: “That better
not be a piece of useless junk you just sold her!”
“I assure you, my dear lad, that it
most certainly is not useless!” Cain said with a wink.
David wasn’t sure what to make of
that, but he drove Sam home and helped her write a label for her gift – she
knew how to write her name but often got her letters reversed – and then they
placed it under the tree with the other presents. About that time his cell phone rang and
seeing that the call was from his girlfriend Denise, Dave ran up the stairs and
almost forgot about his sister’s gift until Christmas morning.
It was a pleasant Christmas – the
family didn’t have as much to spend on each other as they had in previous
years, but everyone made an effort to be as cheerful as possible. As Dad read
the Christmas story out of the Gospel of Luke, Dave thought that money wasn’t
really the key to happiness many people thought it was. He was glad that his parents were still
together and obviously in love, and while Sam could be annoying, like all
little sisters, he had to admit she really wasn’t the spoiled brat he pretended
she was. In short, David Simmons loved
his family, and they loved each other. In light of that, who cared if the
presents were cheap this year?
“I wonder what this could be?” Doug
Simmons said as he lifted the gift box containing Samantha’s present.
“I got it for you, Daddy!” she
said. “Mister Cain said it was a very
nice gift for an executed father figure!”
“I think he said ‘exemplary,’ Sam!”
David explained, but Dad was already doubled over with laughter. He went red in the face, and Mom, who took
their reduced financial status harder than he did, got caught up his mirth as
well.
Finally, Doug caught his breath and
looked at his daughter with joy in his eyes.
Sam had not been an expected baby, but she was a treasured one from the
day she was born.
“And who is this Mister Cain?” he
asked her.
“He’s the funny man at the junk shop,”
she said.
“That new emporium that opened
downtown,” explained David.
“I see! Well, now I am very curious to see what he
thought would be a nice gift for me,” Dad said, and untied the ribbon. He took the lid off the box and saw the
smaller box within.
“A black cardboard box!” he exclaimed.
“Thank you, Samantha! I was just
thinking I needed one of those.”
“It’s in the box, silly Daddy!” she
said.
He turned the black box over and saw
the label.
“Ah, a universal remote!” he
said. “I don’t recognize this brand,
though. It doesn’t look like anything we sell at the store.”
He pulled it out of the box and
studied the buttons and toggles on it through the plastic wrapping.
“Odd - I don’t even recognize some of
these,” he said. “I mean, PLAY, PAUSE,
FAST FORWARD, REWIND, those are pretty standard. But there’s a button here that says LESS and
another that says MORE. Here’s MUTE, and
another that just toggles from a smile emoji to a frown.”
“Mister Cain said that you have to
take it out of the plastic yourself and hold it in your hand for a couple of
minutes to activate it,” David said. “He
said that after that it will only respond to the person who activated it.”
“That sounds high-tech! Did he say
what all it works on?” Dad asked him.
“He said it will let you control
everything in the house,” David replied.
“Well, I’ll play with it later,” Dad
told him. “Now, you open your gift!”
David got a signed copy of Stephen
King’s newest book – Doug had stood in line for three hours at the Barnes and
Noble in Chattanooga to get it autographed – and Sam got a large dollhouse
which David and Doug spent the next two hours assembling in her bedroom. Mom was not forgotten – she opened a small
package to find a diamond tennis bracelet which was worth more than everything
else under the tree combined.
“Doug, we agreed to spend less than a
hundred each on ourselves!” she exclaimed.
“I did,” he said. “I spotted it at an estate sale last fall,
mixed in with some costume pieces.
You’ve taught me enough about jewelry that I realized it was a good
piece right away.”
“A costly mistake on their part,” his
wife said, admiring the bracelet.
“I tried to tell them that it was
worth way more than they were charging for it,” Doug said, “but the lady
thanked me and said I could have it for the marked price, for being honest with
her.”
“My paladin,” Vicky Simmons said. “I may have an extra present for you later!”
“Do I get to unwrap it?” Doug asked,
arching an eyebrow.
“DAD!!! I want to have an appetite for Christmas
dinner!” David groaned.
“Why shouldn’t Daddy unwrap a
present?” Samantha asked, and her older brother decamped to his room,
red-faced.
Later that afternoon, Doug sat in the
recliner while Vicky bustled about in the kitchen, washing the dishes from
their family dinner. Seeing the black
box under the tree, he opened it up and looked at the plastic-wrapped remote.
Sam was up in her room, entranced with her new dollhouse, and David had his
nose buried in the new King novel. He
figured this was a good time to try and figure out his new device. He used a pair of scissors to cut away the
clear plastic and dropped it into his right hand.
Doug dealt with electronics every day,
but he’d never felt any kind of controller like this one. Its exterior was soft but firm, and it seemed
to mold to the contours of his hand immediately. It was warm to the touch, feeling almost
alive. As soon as he gripped it, the black remote vibrated gently two or three
times, and a red light began blinking at the top. Underneath, in tiny letters, it read
INITIALIZING: DO NOT PUT DOWN. The red
light continued to blink for a few minutes, and then went out and a green light
next to it came on. The letters under it
read: ACTIVATED.
The television in the den was on, even
though no one was watching. Doug pressed
the red button labeled OFF; the TV immediately went dead. That was fast, he thought to himself. Remembering the manual in the book, he pulled
it out of the box and began to skim through it.
“Welcome to the new Universal
Remote!” the first page said. “We
put the world at your fingertips. Just
remember, a remote this powerful can only have one master. Once you have activated it, the remote will
respond to your touch only for as long as you have it.”
Fingerprint
technology? he wondered to himself, and then read on.
“The True Universal Remote will not
only control every electronic device in your home, but it will also remotely
start your car, lock your house for you, and even move objects around at your request. Study the buttons very carefully; use them
sparingly at first until you’ve had a chance to learn their effects. The True
Universal responds differently to each person, so the effects described in the
book may not be the same as the ones you experience. Just remember, for good or ill, this
magnificent device is now YOURS. Use it
wisely.”
What an odd
introduction, Doug thought, and turned the page. The next page was blank, as were all the
others after it. He shook his head in wonder.
Was the manual misprinted? He
studied the remote and saw a green button labeled ON. He pointed it at the television, which
immediately came back on. He glanced at
the book and saw that an entry had appeared where only white paper had been a
moment before. It read: “The ON
button instantly activates whatever electronic device you aim it at. The scroll button next to it will allow you
to browse channels, adjust thermostat settings, set oven temperatures, and browse
your internet bookmarks.”
Doug blinked
several times. He could have sworn that
page was blank, but the letters were clear as day. He must have skipped a page, or something.
“Doug!” Vicky called from the
kitchen. “Get in here, please!”
The TV was blaring loudly enough that
he had a hard time making out her words, so he looked at the remote and found
the MUTE button. He punched it and the
sound disappeared.
“What do you need, dear?” he asked.
“How many times do I have to tell you
what shelf the drinking glasses go on?” she asked sharply. Vicky Simmons was a bit of a neat freak and
couldn’t stand it when things were put away incorrectly. She came to the door of the kitchen and stood
there, her voice taking on that correcting gone that Doug couldn’t stand.
“Plates on the bottom shelf, saucers
and bowls on the next, drinking glasses above that!” she said. “It’s a simple,
workable system that you should be used to by now. Why you can’t -”
Suddenly her voice cut off abruptly.
Her mouth was still moving ninety miles an hour, but no sound was coming
out. Doug stared at her in wonder, then
looked down at his hand. He realized
that he had involuntarily pressed the MUTE button when he turned to face her.
“Are you pranking me?” he asked, and
her mouth continued to move soundlessly, even as her expression grew more
frustrated. He glanced at the manual and
saw that a second entry had appeared beneath the first. He wanted to read it, but Vicky was growing
more frustrated by the moment. At least,
she seemed to be, judging by her expression.
Doug looked next to the MUTE button and saw another labeled PAUSE. What the heck, he thought, and pushed it.
Vicky froze in place, her mouth wide
open in mid-rant. Doug stood there in
shock for a moment, then looked down at the manual again. There were three entries where he had seen
two before. He sat down heavily and read
them.
“The MUTE button will silence any
television, computer, car alarm, cell phone, or any other noisemaking device it
is aimed at. It can also silence the
human voice for up to five minutes at a time.
Pressing the button a second time will immediately turn the sound (or
voice) back on.”
“The PAUSE feature will freeze your
favorite TV program, internet video, radio song, live news, for up to ten
minutes at a time. It can also pause
time itself when aimed at a person, animal, or moving vehicle. Its range is limited, but in the bubble it
creates, all motion except that of the remote’s owner is frozen for up to five
minutes. Pressing the button a second time will resume the program or cause a
person to resume what they were doing when the button was pressed.”
“This is
impossible!” Doug shook his head. “No
device can do this!”
But his wife was still frozen in
place, her mouth wide open. But it was
more than that – as he listened, Doug realized the entire house was dead silent
and still.
“I think I’m losing my mind,” he said
to himself. Then he stood, faced his
wife, and hit the PAUSE button again.
“ – you need to put your new toy down
for a minute and listen to me!” she said.
“I know you think I’m anal retentive, but stuff being put away wrong
bothers me a lot!”
“I know it does,” he said, “and I am
sorry. Let me put them away correctly,
and then I’ll help you finish the kitchen.”
He set the remote down hastily and
went to help in the kitchen.
“Why were you looking at me so
strangely just then?” Vicky asked. “I
know I was a bit wound up, but you looked really freaked out – almost scared!”
“I just kind of zoned out for a
minute,” he explained. “That new remote
is more complex than I thought.”
“Well, let’s finish this and you can
go play with it some more,” she said, and they did. Once all the dishes were
washed and put away, and the leftovers safely encased in Tupperware and placed
in the fridge, Vicky went for her daily walk, and Doug sat down again with his
remote. As he picked it up, he saw a small stack of mail that he hadn’t gone
through yet. He flipped through the
envelopes, discarding the junk mail and setting the bills aside. All three credit card bills had arrived
within a day or two of each other, and he opened them and scowled at the
charges. Might as well take care of these, he said to himself, and moved to his
computer chair.
Opening his online bank account, he
saw that his balance in checking was $4,559.10 - about a thousand dollars less
than the combined total of his card statements. That was the case more often
than not these days. He didn’t get paid
again till after the new year, and he needed to spare enough money for groceries
and utilities. He was trying to figure out how much he could afford to put on
each bill when he glanced over and saw the remote on the table next to his
recliner.
“Not possible!” he said to
himself. But the itch was there now,
lurking in his brain, urging him to try it.
He got up and grabbed the remote and the manual, and then sat back down
in front of his computer screen. Pointing
the remote at his bank statement, he put his finger on the button that said “More”
and clicked it once. The screen blipped,
and suddenly the balance in his account jumped up to $45,5910!
Doug gasped and stared at the new
figure for a moment. He refreshed the
screen, but it didn’t change. He logged out
of his bank account and logged back in, but the figure remained ten times higher
than what he knew he had in his account.
Hands shaking, he picked the remote up and clicked the button
again. The screen flickered, and his
balance was $455,910. Again. $4,559,100. Again. $45,591,000.
Doug realized he was hyperventilating
at this point. He looked at the remote’s manual and saw a new entry:
“The
MORE button will increase the volume or value of whatever you aim it at – you can
increase your wealth, the amount of groceries in your pantry, the value of your
vehicle, or anything else. The LESS
button will reduce the desired amount in equal increments that the MORE button
increases them. Use these functions
wisely.”
“I don’t need forty-five million
dollars,” he said to himself. He clicked
the LESS button until the amount dropped back down to forty-five thousand. He
stared at the screen for a long time.
That much money would let him pay off every debt he had and leave him
with about ten thousand to tuck into the kids’ college funds. Still, how would he explain having that much
extra money so suddenly? Doug Simmons had
always prided himself on being an honest man, and this seemed too much like
cheating for his taste. He also knew
that he and his family would be all right, despite the current hard times. He sighed and clicked the LESS button one
more time, and then paid a thousand dollars on each of his credit card accounts
from the money that he and Vicky had earned.
He figured if something unexpected happened, he could always use the
remote’s power to create enough wealth to deal with it.
For the next half hour, he tested the
remote’s settings and interactivity with every device in the house. It was indeed a universal appliance, and a
very handy one, but its other properties defied any rational explanation. Somehow, he thought, Samantha had given him a
real-life magical artifact for Christmas!
Just for kicks, he pointed the MORE button at the Christmas tree and
clicked it. Suddenly the tree was a foot and a half taller, and the number of
ornaments on it doubled! Lights in
colors that Doug had never seen blinked in a gorgeous display.
“Where did all that come from?” Vicky
asked. She must have come in from the
back door after her walk, because Doug had not heard her enter. She was staring at the tree in surprised
delight.
Momentarily panicked, Doug hit the
PAUSE button and Vicky froze in her tracks. He then pointed the remote back at
the tree and hit LESS, reverting it to its original state. Then he turned to
his wife, his finger on the button. But before he could hit PAUSE again, he
paused. Curiosity gnawed at him. Vicky
was standing in the kitchen doorway, still wearing her navy-blue hoodie, her
face flushed from her afternoon walk, and her eyes sparkling – still as
beautiful as ever, after twenty years of marriage. Doug hit the MORE button to
see what would happen.
In a flash, Vicky was bundled up in a
parka and hood, with fur-lined boots and a heavy scarf. She looked like an extra from a movie set in
the Yukon winter! He hit LESS and she instantly reverted to her sweatpants, hoodie,
and high-topped Nike jogging shoes. Doug
hit LESS again, and then she was standing in front of him in nothing but her
underwear. He admired her figure, then chuckled
for a second and took his finger off the LESS button. As with his bank account, this just seemed too
much like cheating! Besides, how would
he explain it to Vicky when the PAUSE effect wore off and she was standing there,
sky-clad, in the kitchen door? He hit
MORE again, and her attire returned to normal.
Then he hit the PAUSE button a second time.
“All of what, dear?” he said sweetly.
“The Christmas tree!” she said, but
then gave a little gasp. “Wait, where
did it all go?”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I swear, for a second the tree looked
twice as big and beautiful,” she said. “I
mean, I must have imagined it, but it was so real! There were lights that looked brighter than
any I’d ever seen, and the star was nearly touching the ceiling!”
“That sounds beautiful,” he said, “but
I rather like our tree as it is.”
“Me, too,” she said after a
moment. “But that surely was weird! I think I might need to lie down for a bit.”
“Want some company?” Doug asked.
“That might be just the thing,” she
said, and he left the remote on his desk as he followed her upstairs.
Early the next morning, Doug came down
and picked up the glossy black device again.
There was a button in the lower corner that he hadn’t tried yet. It
simply read FIX. He went out to the
garage, where his riding mower sat, the motor disassembled after it had broken
down earlier that fall. He didn’t have
the money for a new engine, but the pistons on this one were damaged and Doug
had not been able to order replacement parts yet. He pointed the remote at it and clicked the FIX
button. Instantly, the motor was
reassembled and re-installed. He walked
over and turned the key. The Cub Cadet started with a roar. This time, he didn’t undo the magic. Fixing the mower was necessary and felt
right.
Then
he looked out at David’s car, pulled up by the curb. He knew that driving an eight-year-old
vehicle was not something any teenager wanted, and he’d felt bad they couldn’t
afford something nicer for his son. He
pointed the remote at the car and hit MORE.
The 2015 Corolla shimmered for a second, and then in its place was a
much nicer 2020 model. It looked sharp,
he thought, but how would he explain it to David?
“Hey
Dad,” his son said, “I see you got the mower running again!”
“Yeah,
I woke up and felt like tinkering,” he said.
“How are you, son?”
“Slept like a log, although Stephen
King gave me zombie dreams,” David said. I may drive over to Denise’s house
later – she said her parents had a gift for me.”
“I’m sure her parents’ gift is the
ONLY reason you want to go over there,” Doug quipped.
“Hey, I’m just glad her folks like me,”
David said. “But it won’t be for a
while. Hey, you want to toss the
football around before I go?”
“Sure thing!” Doug replied. “Let me
set this thing down.”
David looked out at his car. “You know, I’m so glad you and Mom got me
this newer one,” he said. “That 2015 you
nearly bought me really was an old junker!”
Doug laughed silently – that was one
problem solved!
As he carried the remote back to his
chair, David looked at it curiously.
“Does that thing even work?” he
asked. “I was afraid Sam was getting
ripped off when she bought it for you.”
“It works insanely well,” his dad
said. “Better than anything we have at the store. Now grab your football!”
It was a bright, clear day, and the
morning frost was melted off by the winter sun.
They tossed the ball back and forth, getting further apart with each
pass. David loved the sport, as did his
father, and he had been a star receiver in the season that had ended a month
before with his team making it to the second round of the division playoffs. Doug was a decent passer but didn’t run as
well or as fast as he once did, so he stayed in one spot as David ran back and
forth, catching the ball on the run.
They had been working out for about a
half hour when Doug threw a hard, fast pass, leading his son as David sprinted
parallel to the street. But the teenager
stumbled slightly, and the ball flew past his outstretched hands into the
street.
“I’ve got it, Dad!” David cried and
ran after it.
As he darted into the street, a U-Haul
truck going far faster than the posted thirty mile-per-hour speed limit came
roaring up the street. Doug opened his mouth to shout a warning, but it was too
late. David barely had a second to
realize the danger before the truck struck him full-on, throwing his body
forward and then rolling over him with both tires. Too late, the driver slammed on the brakes
and tried to swerve. The truck hit a
parked car, rebounded, and rolled over on its side.
Doug ran out to his son’s side, his
mind unable to process the horror. Half of David’s face had been torn off,
broken ribs projected from his mangled chest, and his right arm was shattered
and crushed. As his father helplessly
watched, David Simmons twitched spastically two or three times, spat out a
gobbet of blood, and died.
Doug stared in shock at the ruined
body of his son, barely registering the fact that his wife had come running out
of the house and was screaming David’s name over and over. He was dimly aware of screams coming from the
overturned truck, where the driver’s arm had been pinned between the door and
the pavement. All he could see was the
ruin of his happy life lying before him, and the prospect of endless days and
nights of grief stretching forward into his old age. If only he could take it back! If only there
was a way to stop his boy from running after the errant pass. . .
Suddenly, Doug pushed his screaming wife
aside and ran back into the house, grabbing the universal remote. Samantha was
on the stairs, a curious expression on her face, but he could not spare a second
for her. He ran through the yard and up
to the street, where Vicky had David’s broken body cradled in her arms, his
blood staining her favorite blouse.
Hands shaking, Doug pointed the remote at the scene and hit REWIND.
Suddenly, Vicky got up and ran
backwards into the house. He could see
himself in the street, rising and backing away from Dave’s body. The truck ran over his son in reverse,
passing over a crushed and bleeding form and retreating from a David that was
alive and unharmed. David sprinted
backwards into the yard, and the ball began to follow him. When his son was ten feet away from the
street, Doug hit PAUSE.
The football was in the air, just out
of Dave’s reach. Doug walked past his
own form, arm still extended from releasing the ball, and positioned himself
between his son and the street. The
U-Haul was still about forty feet away from the spot where David’s death was
waiting to happen. Doug braced himself,
and then hit the PAUSE button again.
The ball sailed past him, and David
cried “I’ve got it!” and turned towards the street. Doug launched himself with all his strength
and will, wrapping his arms around his son’s waist, and bore him away from the
street to the ground.
“Dang, Dad, when did you get so fast?”
David said as he sat up.
At that moment the truck ran over the
football, squashing it beneath the front tires with a loud pop that echoed down
the street like a rifle shot.
“Holy crap!” David said. “I was about to chase that thing right into
the street! You saved my life, Dad!”
“That’s how I got so fast, son,” Doug
said, embracing his boy, relishing the feel of those strong, unbroken arms returning
his hug. “I saw that truck coming and
all I could think about was keeping you safe!”
“Well, you did that all right,” Dave
said. “I guess I need to change before I
head over to see Denise. Um . . . can we
not tell Mom about this?”
“She won’t hear a word from me,” Doug
said.
“A word about what?” Vicky said
from the door. “Your playing tackle ball
with your Dad when I have told him over and over again that he’s too old for
that nonsense? You’re going to break Dad’s
leg out here one of these days, David!”
“It was my idea,” Doug said, rising
and heading into the house. “Are you off
to work?”
“Oh yes,” Vicky said. “A thousand gift returns await the weary jeweler!”
Doug kissed her then, a long, hard
kiss, and said: “Be careful out there, babe!
I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She laughed and kissed him back
“I’ll be fine, as long as I know that
my family is waiting for me to come home.
Enjoy your day off, dear,” she told him, and climbed into her car.
Doug went upstairs to the privacy of
their bathroom, threw up the bagel he’d had for breakfast, and huddled on the
bed crying for the next hour.
Finally, he got up and retrieved the
Universal Remote from the floor where he’d dropped it. He changed clothes, washed his face, and drove
downtown until he spotted the brightly painted sign of Cain’s Junk
Emporium. He pulled into the angled
parking, and then saw the CLOSED sign hanging on the door. He knocked anyway,
but there was no answer. Dejected, he
returned to his car and stared at the remote, turning it over in his hands.
“I don’t want this thing,” he said to
himself. “It’s too much power for any
one man to have. I’m glad I could save
my boy, but I hate this thing!”
“I will admit, that is a most unusual
response,” a calm voice with a faint British accent broke the silence.
David looked up in shock and found
that an old man in a tweed suit with unkempt grey hair was regarding him with a
calm gaze. He took a deep breath and
looked down again at the remote, then back at the stranger sitting in his
passenger seat.
“You must be Mister Cain,” he finally
said.
“That is quite correct,” the man
replied. “And, as I said, your response
to the True Universal is quite unusual – extraordinary, in fact! All previous owners have used the device for
selfish purposes, to enrich themselves or to manipulate others to do their
bidding. You used it unselfishly from
the moment you discovered its abilities, and now do you truly wish to disown
it?”
“Absolutely yes!” Doug said. “I’m just a man, not a god, and I don’t like
having the powers of one! I could
literally hear a voice whispering in my ear of all the awful things I could use
this for, and it was so tempting to listen to it! I’m afraid if I keep it, even with the best
of intentions, that voice will ruin me.
This thing will turn me into the very kind of person I cannot stand if I
keep it. Please, take it back!”
Cain regarded him with a combination
of amusement and disbelief.
“A true paragon,” he said. “There are very few men like you in the
world, Douglas Simmons. Your son and
daughter both told me of your moral rectitude, and I will admit I was
skeptical. But what will you tell
Samantha when you no longer have the gift she got you?”
“I don’t know,” Doug said. “I’ll tell
her I dropped it and broke it or something!”
“I liked that little girl,” Cain
said. “She has a sweet, innocent heart
and loves you dearly. Therefore, I will
save you the difficulty of having to lie to her. I will take the True Universal Remote back and
give you this in its place.”
He handed Doug a smooth black device,
similar to the one Sam had bought for him but with fewer buttons.
“This will control all the electronics
in your house,” he explained, “but nothing else. No magical powers, no instant wealth, just
the ability turn on and operate your appliances.”
“Thank you,” Doug said. “Who are you, exactly?”
“Oh, just an old peddler, giving
people what they need – or what they think they need!” Cain said with a
chuckle. “Mainly I enjoy watching what
people do when they are given power.
Power, after all, is the most potent and addictive drug there is. Those who can resist it are few and far
between.”
“What happens to those who don’t?”
Doug asked.
“Usually, their own desires destroy them,”
Cain said. “People are, after all,
selfish beasts. You, my dear sir, are a
glorious exception to that rule. Now, is
there anything else you would like to use the True Universal for before I take
it away forever? This is your last chance.”
Doug thought for a moment about the $1400
left in his checking account, and remembered watching those numbers jump up at
the push of a button. Then he swallowed
hard and faced Cain.
“No,” he said. “I never want to see that thing again!”
Cain clapped his hands.
“Splendid!” he said. “You, sir, have restored my rather small faith
in human nature. Well, I shall save the
True Universal for its next lucky owner then, and I wish you a long and happy
life.”
He opened the door and got out of the
car, fumbling with a ring of keys. Just
before shutting the door, he leaned back in and looked at Doug.
“I know that you and your family are
struggling financially,” he said. “Let
me offer one last gift – nothing supernatural, no hidden strings. Take this five-dollar bill and go buy
yourself a scratch-off lottery ticket at that store across the street. Any five-dollar ticket will do. When you get home, you will find that you
have won a hundred thousand dollars.
That should be enough to square your debts and set aside a nice amount
for your children’s education fund. Consider it a parting gift from one who holds
you in the highest of regard.”
He dropped the bill in Doug’s lap, and
then closed the car door and walked up to his shop door. Cain let himself in, closed the door behind
him, and disappeared into the recesses of the shop. Doug stared at the five for a long time, then
got out of his car and walked over to the convenience store that Cain had
pointed out.
“What the heck,” he said to himself,
and then bought a ticket.
When he came out, the brightly painted
sign that marked Cain’s Junk Emporium was blank, and the shop was boarded up,
with nothing to indicate it had ever been there at all.
