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Home Control UnitBy Malina RoosWINTER 2005 SHORT STORY CONTEST WINNER - FIRST PLACE |
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Bill noticed the package right away. He had been waiting for it since Monday and had rushed home from work early the entire week just in case it had come. He picked up the box and juggled his briefcase, the house keys and the medium sized package. He hurried to the basement to unwrap the new Home Control Unit and set it up. This was the newest and latest home remote control unit. From this one, he could control the other three units and run the entire house. Bill had started with the Mini Remote. That one activated all the lights in the house. It was so easy to run, but of course Margaret could not figure it out. God, women are such idiots. All she had to do was turn the unit on, turn the dial to the appropriate number and push the button. But that was too hard. Then Bill added the Kitchen Remote. That one ran all the appliances. From the living room Bill could control the temperature of the beer, separately from the temperature of the vegetables. He could turn on the stove to cook the lasagna. And he could turn on the bread machine to bake the bread. Margaret was furious with the new addition to the wired house and now refused to cook. The real truth was, though, she couldn’t cook with or without the Kitchen Remote and that was a big reason why Bill bought the unit. Now he made all the meals and they were both eating better. This however, was the ultimate in home remote control units. With this device Bill could run the other units and anything that was run by AC or DC standards. The possibilities were endless! He imagined turning his car on from the house on those winter days when the wind-chill reached –39 degrees Celsius. Or he could, conceivably lock Margaret in the house when he left for work for the day. Now that thought made him chuckle. He had a mental picture of Margaret running around frantically trying all the doors only to discover they were all locked. What he wouldn’t give to see that. Maybe he could get a few surveillance cameras next month and try some experiments. Might be good for a few laughs. Bill concentrated hard on setting up the Home Control Unit. He wanted it to be perfect and the settings had to be adjusted just right or it would not work at all. Friday morning Bill called the office and told Marilyn he would not be in for the day. He wasn’t feeling too great, he told her. Had to spend the day in bed. Get some rest and lots of fluids. That was a lie of course. What he really needed to do was learn how to run the smaller unit from the central one and Friday was a perfect day. Margaret had her Bridge tournament all weekend and would not be home until Monday evening. If Bill called in sick on Monday that would give him a full four days to adjust all the settings and to get the Home Control Unit up and running. By Friday evening Bill had wired the two smaller units together. Now he could control all of the lights and all of the appliances from one unit instead of two. With the extra unit, he could maybe dismantle it and create something else. Bill had a few ideas but nothing concrete yet. By Saturday afternoon, Bill found he could control all the windows in the house. He did not know how he did it (and frankly, he didn’t give a damn. It worked and that’s enough). With one button, he could lock all the windows on the main floor. With the turn of the dial, the entire house was locked, windows, doors, deadbolts, everything. ‘Damn, Margaret would not be happy with this’, Bill chuckled to himself. By Sunday at 3:01 am, Bill had control of the entire house, and he could control it by remote, from the car. He had tested it by driving to the office. He sat in his car, punched in a code, and saw the indicator read ‘LOCKED. Proceed with disintegration?’ Bill did not know what that meant. Didn’t matter. The Home Control Unit worked just fine, thank you very much. Bill drove home. From the driveway, he punched in another code and the indicator read ‘UNLOCK. Welcome back Bill.’ The garage door opened and Bill drove inside. Bill walked into the kitchen and decided he better get something to eat. The last meal he’d had was Friday morning. Was that possible, he thought? The Home Control Unit indicator said, “Yes Bill, it was Friday morning. Would you like me to prepare a meal for you? How about some Carnage Crab Cakes and Murdered Beef Burgers? I could top it off with a little Suicide Cider? What do you think?” Bill looked at the remote control. “When did you learn how to speak?” he muttered. “I can do many things Bill. I can cook your meals, plan your day, draw your bath. Whatever you need me to do, Bill. Kill your wife. Make it look like self-inflicted. As you said, the possibilities are endless.” Bill stared at the remote control. The synapses were firing, but the connection was not made. Bill sat at the kitchen table. He placed the remote on the place mat and continued to look at the plastic device he had built, as if willing the information to come. “Yes Bill. You can control everything now. What do you want to do Bill? Tell me. Does it really matter that you know how I can do this Bill? Or is it enough to know that I can? Come on Bill. Look at the potential. What do you want? Power? Money? Women? Fast cars? I can do it all for you Bill. You know you want it Bill. Just say the word and the world is yours. The pounding on the front door brought Bill out of his stupor. “Open up. This is the police.” The pounding continued. Bill ran to the living room, looked out the window and saw the red flashing lights. There must have been a dozen police outside standing on his front lawn. The neighbours were there standing around in their bathrobes and slippers. The press was there with their cameras. “ Mr. Wilson. Open the door. If you don’t, we will have to break it down. Mr. Wilson, can you hear me? Open up the door so we can talk”. From the kitchen Bill heard the remote. “Don’t do it Bill. They just want to lock you up. They know how brilliant you are and they are afraid of you. Don’t you see Bill? They want to destroy me and lock you up forever. Don’t do it Bill. Get the gun you keep in the closet. I have already loaded it. All you need to do is aim and fire. They will all go away then Bill.” Bill ran to the closet, pulled down all the boxes, old photos, extra clothing, under the scarves he found what he was looking for. The Glock was where the remote said it was and fully loaded. It felt light in his hands. Hardly weighed a thing. The cord was slapping against his thighs. Something niggled in the back of his mind. Almost had it…the pounding interrupted his train of thought. He ran back to the living room and opened the curtains. There seemed to be even more people outside now. He saw the Farleys were out with the kids. They were standing on his lawn, God dammit. He told Walter to keep his brats off the lawn. The little shits were always stepping on his grass and killing it. “They don’t care Bill. They know how hard you worked planting the new grass this summer. They laugh at you behind your back, Bill.” Bill screamed, smashed the living room window and opened fire on the Farley kids. He nailed two of them before the police had a chance to get a round off. Bill felt the bullets smash through his chest. “I can help you Bill. Don’t worry about a thing Bill. Just go to sleep and when you wake up, it will all be over”. Bill smiled and closed his eyes. “We interrupt your regular program schedule to bring you a late breaking story. A man was shot and killed tonight in his home after a report from the neighbours stating that he had driven through his house earlier this evening. The car apparently drove right through the front bedroom and sat idling in the backyard. Reports from the police indicate the man was in the living room holding what appeared to be a gun. It turned out to be blow dryer. His wife had stated that her husband was schizophrenic and he frequently went without taking his medication.” |
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| ABOUT THE AUTHOR Malina Roos lives in Winnipeg, Manitoba with her husband and her three dogs. She has three children and two grandchildren. During the day, she works as a legal assistant to various police and social service agencies and in the evenings she battles the writing addiction and insomnia. | |