"They used to dry up cows, but who keeps cows?" the bearded one said
ominously. "Why not television sets? Like, I happen to be personally
acquainted with several witches and like that. The Village is full of
them. However--" He rose, and stalked toward the set, his eyes
glittering in a peculiar way. "You're a lucky one, Daddyo. Back in my
square days, I did some reading up on the hookups between poetry and
magic. Now, I'm a poet. Therefore, and to wit, I'm also a magician. On
this hangup, I'm going to try magic. Electronics won't work, that's for
sure."
* * * * *
"But...." Mr. Rapp was not quite sure why he disapproved, but he did. On
the other hand, the repairman appeared to be very definitely sure of
what he was doing, as he peered into the back of the television set.
"Have you ever tried ... ah, this method before?"
"Never ran into any hexed TV sets before," the repairman said,
straightening up. "Don't worry, though. I got the touch, like with
poetry. Same thing, in fact. All magic spells rhyme, see? Well, I used
to rhyme, back before I really started swinging. Anybody can rhyme. And
the rest is just instinct."
He had been scribbling something on a notepad, as he spoke. Now he bent
down, to take another look at the back of the set, and nodded with an
air of assurance.
"The tube layout," the repairman told Mr. Rapp, exhibiting his notebook.
"That, and Ohm's Law, and a couple of Hindu bits I picked up listening
to the UN on the radio ... makes a first-class spell."
Mr. Rapp backed away, nervously. "Look, if it's all the same to you...."
"Don't flip." The repairman consulted his notebook, and moved to stand
in front of the screen. The picture showed a smiling newscaster,
pointing to a map which indicated something ominous.
"Cool, man," the repairman said. "Here we go." He lifted his hands in an
ecclesiastical gesture, and his voice became a deep boom.
"6SN7, 6ac5, six and seven millivolts are running down the line, E
equals R times A, that's the way it goes, go round the other way, Subhas
Chandra BOSE!"
Afterward, Mr. Rapp was never quite sure exactly what happened. He had
an impression of a flash of light, and an odd, indefinite sound rather
like the dropping of a cosmic garbage can lid. But possibly neither the
light nor the sound actually happened; at any rate, there were no
complaints from the neighbors later on. However, the lighted screen was
certainly doing something.
"Crazy!" the repairman said, in awed tones.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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