Thursday, October 1, 2020

The Radio (Inktober, Sunday, October 4)

For Inktober, Sunday, October 4, 2020. Prompt word: "radio." Tuckerization: Bobbie Laughman
A reminder that volunteering for tuckerization only means a character in the story shares the participant's name. Other than that, there are no other similar characteristics implied.

The Radio 
by Alan Loewen 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 


"You're listening to Wink 106, and right after these messages, we'll give you today's winning numbers for the Powerball lottery!"


Bobbie paused from loading the dishwasher and turned to give the radio a puzzled look. The Powerball numbers were to be picked tonight, and nobody would have the numbers until tomorrow morning.

 

As the radio blasted some tacky jingle from a car dealership, Bobbie shrugged and turned back to the dishwasher. The announcer had his dates mixed up and could not give out any numbers except those that had been picked some nights before. 

 

After a few moments, the announcer came back on. "Last night's numbers were unique in their pattern: 12, 18, 22, 28, 30, and 32, with the Powerball a perfect 7. There does appear to be a winner in Pennsylvania, and that person will enjoy a 250 million dollar win!"

 

That's weird, Bobbie thought. Having played the Powerball intermittently, she knew the last numbers drawn a few nights ago followed no such pattern.

 

Later that day at the grocery store, on a whim, Bobbie played the numbers that had been announced the night before and put the ticket securely in her purse. The next day, the newspaper gave the winning numbers, and Bobbie was shocked to discover she was now a multimillionaire.

 

Shaking her head, she turned on the radio to Wink 106. After listening to The Piano Man for the one-thousandth time, the news came on. The announcer went on about the state's governor being admitted to a Harrisburg hospital for a debilitating kidney stone attack. 

 

Oddly enough, no other Internet news site gave any information on the governor’s health.

 

The next morning she saw on the front page of the newspaper the governor had taken ill and was recovering comfortably at UPMC Pinnacle. The diagnosis was kidney stones.

 

Bobbie stared at her radio in disbelief. Unless somebody was playing tricks on her, the station allowed her to pick up broadcasts one day in the future. Oddly, the rest of the stations on the dial did not seem to be affected. Still, when she dialed the radio to 106.1, she somehow received accurate future reports.

 

Bobbie stunned friends and family with her prophetic utterances on who won football games and guessing headlines in the weeks and months ahead. Not a greedy person by nature, she would sometimes buy a lottery ticket for people who had hit hard times but only select four or five numbers that still gave a substantial prize, but not enough to trigger questions as to why there was a significant number of winners in south-central Pennsylvania.

 

Bobbie enjoyed her new life of leisure as one of the nouveau-riche, knowing she could increase her wealth anytime she wished. And though she bought a new car and other luxuries, she still kept her old radio and listened to it intently every day.

 

It was almost a year later when Bobbie turned the radio on to hear the next day's headlines that were yet to happen. Instead, a woman, wailing in gasping sobs, came over the radio's speaker.

 

"Please … please, is there anybody else alive out there? Are there any other survivors? They're all dead here! Please … I don't want to be the only one left alive. Can you please call the station? The number is … it's 555-3839. Please. I'm so afraid."


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