Radio Static

Part 1

Salvation. I think that is the word I'm looking for. Either way, I finally found something. A connection to the outside world. I have been trapped here for two months, and now I have something. I haven't seen one of these in person, but there are plenty in movies and TV shows. The dial, antenna, and speaker tell me that this is a radio. Without hesitation, I flip the switch on, and my heart immediately sinks. No light, no noise. It's dead.

I turn it over and can't find a slot for batteries or even a cord to plug it in, not that would be of any help. This cabin doesn't have any electricity. Two months and I haven't seen anyone my age. I'm stranded here.

"Zach?" I hear the old man call. "What are you doing in there?"

I look over my shoulder to see him. The old man with a long white beard, little to no hair on his head, in an old, faded flannel shirt and blue jeans.

"Just looking through your old junk, Grandpa." I hold the radio up with a disappointed smile. "Trying to keep busy so I don't go mad with boredom."

"Well," Grandpa said as he walked over, "I'll be going to check the snares soon. Your field dressing could use some work."

"Why should I bother?" I sit on the ground and continue to fidget with the dead radio. "I'm not going to need to field dress anything when mom and dad come pick me up in a month."

"Some day, you may find yourself stranded and need to get food." He sat on a nearby log. "Believe it or not, but there isn't a convenience store around every corner." Holding his hand out, he finished his lecture with, "Whatcha got there?"

I got up and handed him the device. "Just an old dead radio. Do you know who has the other one?"

He gave me a confused look before he understood what I was asking. "This isn't a walkie talkie radio. It's an old crank FM radio."

Now I gave a confused look. "Crank FM?"

He gave me a smile and started to mess with it. "An old friend gave me this a long time ago." Some of the plastic separated from it to form a rotating handle. He turned it a few times and some static started to come out of the speaker. He handed it back. "You turn that crank and it generates power. Turn the power off and it will charge the battery."

I did what he said and asked, "If it was a gift from a friend, why was it in your junk shed?"

"First off, it's not a junk shed, it's storage. Everything in there can be used for something eventually. That kind of attitude is what got you sent out here in the first place, remember."

"I don't know why they didn't replace my phone before they shipped me off." I was still cranking the radio. How long do I have to do this?

"Because you smashed a perfectly good one to try and get an upgrade."

"It was out of date." I knew immediately I said the wrong thing.

"'Out of date' is just a phrase that corporations use to get you to spend your money." He pointed at the shack that we are staying in. "Everything in there, even the building, has been 'out of date' for darn near four decades."

I didn't say anything. He was right. This little shack in the middle of the woods had no power, no running water, and no indoor plumbing. Man, I couldn't wait to leave.

"The reason that radio was in storage was because it could only pick up one station." He turned towards the horizon and pointed at something. I followed his gaze and saw a large gray tower in the distance. "That station is the only one close enough to get picked up on that thing." He stood up and shrugged. "I stopped listening to it years ago, but knock yourself out." With that, he left to go check on the snares.

I continued to work on the radio. After a few tries with the battery only lasting a few seconds, I decided to just crank it for the rest of the day to build up a large charge. It was hard to do because Grandpa kept pulling me away to help clean the rabbits for dinner or other work around the cabin. When he was finally done with me, I sat on the porch and continued to turn the crank.

The sun had set before I decided to give it a try. One click and the radio roared with static. My heart was pounding with excitement while I turned the knob, scanning the stations for a signal.

"-clear sky this night," a man's voice spoke through the speaker. "I'll leave you listeners tonight with a favorite of mine. Goodnight."

A song then started to play. It wasn't something that I would normally listen to, but right now, I was just happy to hear something that wasn't wind and birds.

I leaned back and looked up at the sky, tapping my foot along with the beat. As the song came to an end, I moved to turn the radio off, but stopped when I heard a voice.

"Welcome, Night owls, to the New Moon Night Show," a woman's voice spoke through the speaker. "Now that the old folks are asleep, let's enjoy some of the new stuff. Don't worry, for those of you that are still watching the evening news, Luna hasn't forgotten about you. We'll start with some new stuff from an old band."

If she was playing some new music, then that radio tower must have access to town. This was my connection to the outside world. I was filled with hope, but how would I reach her? I heard about people calling into radio stations for contests or requests, but I didn't know the number.

I stayed up most of the night, waiting. Luna gave some weather updates, world news, and plenty of new music. It wasn't until late into the night that she finally gave me the number.

"Just call in to give your request for our Midnight Full Hour music block." Once she gave the phone number I realized that I didn't have any way of writing it down, then an idea quickly dawned on me. I pulled the pocket knife my Grandpa gave me out and ran around to the side of the cabin. Low on the wall I quickly scratched the number into the log.

"Good," I mumbled. Then my heart sank. "Now I just need to get a phone."