Remote Control Read Free Page A

barest blink he recognizes a documentary on the Arctic.
    The next nanosecond, icy water engulfs him and his head dips beneath a watery grave. Pushing to the surface, he flounders and screams. "Help me!"
    But there is no other sign of life, and his own is crawling out of him in an icy blue trail.
    Jesus Christ, I'm drowning!
    He almost opens his right hand. And then he remembers. The remote.
    Teeth chattering, he prays harder than he's ever prayed. "Please let this work. Please!"
    He can barely feel his death-tinged fingers, yet he manages to cradle the remote in one hand as he pokes at the memory button.
    He's instantly transported back to the safety of his living room and the clock on the wall tells him that the game ended about ten minutes ago. He could have shrugged this off as another 'zoning out' period except for two things―he is ice cold and dripping wet. Arctic water pools around his feet, while his teeth continue clattering loud enough to wake the living dead.
    Or Beatrice, at the very least.
    She appears on cue in the doorway, her weary eyes blinking to adjust to the light, her arms folded across her tattered gray housecoat. It was blue when he'd bought it for her last Christmas.
    He watches her, wondering how long it will take her to realize that all is not right.
    "Harry?" Blink…yawn…gasp! "What in God's name is going on here?"
    * * *
    Beatrice searches the room for the source of the water. There's no leak in the ceiling and the kitchen sink isn't overflowing. So where'd all that water come from?
    Her eyes narrow in suspicion as she steps closer to Harry. "Did you go outside?"
    It's the only thing that makes any sense to her, yet the rain had stopped about half an hour ago.
    Harry gives her his 'you're so dense' glare, then releases an exasperated sigh. "Of course I didn't go outside."
    "Then why are you standing in the living room soaking wet?"
    Ignoring her, he pushes past and waddles toward the bathroom.
    "Just like a man," she mutters. "Avoid the question and run away."
    While he's gone, Beatrice cleans up the water on the hardwood floor. She searches for the remote control so she can turn off the TV, but it's nowhere to be found.
    "Harry?" she calls out. "Where's the remote?"
    He appears beside her, the remote firmly grasped in one hand.
    She holds out her hand.
    "I'm not done watching TV," he says.
    "But it's almost eleven-thirty."
    He looks at her, raises his eyebrows. "And your point is?"
    "You always go to bed by eleven when you have a job in the morning."
    "I know." He glances at the television. "But I have a plan that is sure to make us rich."
    She rolls her eyes. Another one of Harry's 'plans'. Oh goodie.
    "I have an idea," he continues, "that'll make you wish you'd never doubted me."
    "What I wish," she snaps, "is that you'd stop all your wishing once and for all. I wish that you'd stop pressuring me to work more hours and figure out a way to fix this mess we're in. In fact, I wish that you'd just leave me alone!"
    Beatrice turns on one heel, but his portentous words follow her.
    "Be careful what you wish for, dear Bea."
    * * *
    Harry is desperately afraid. Afraid that he's imagined everything, that he's had a stroke or something and temporarily blacked out. Terrified in a way that makes his heart race with anticipation that maybe, just maybe, he hasn't dreamt it up after all.
    There's only one way to find out.
    It's now just past midnight and Harry has changed his clothes, toweled off his hair, and his skin has returned to its normal color of malnourishment. Leaning forward as far as his tire tube belly allows, he sits in his recliner and contemplates how he can use his new best friend to make all his wishes come true. His pudgy hands are glued to the remote, as if his life depends on its close proximity.
    "Okay, RC," he says. "Let's see what you can really do."
    Now don't forget how smart Harry is. He's already thought this through. If everything that happened was real, then he has somehow