Remote Control Read Free Page B

found a kind of portal. And portals can be very useful―if one can figure out how to use them.
    "I was transported to the same hockey game I was watching on TV," he says. "I was actually there. Then I changed channels and went to the Arctic, just like the documentary." He shivers. "Bad move there."
    Needing something safe to test his theory on, he channel surfs.
    "There!"
    The screen shows dozens of digital cameras, flat screen TVs and laptops. Tonight's news is featuring a piece on the grand opening of a Best Buy store in southeast Edmonton. According to the reporter, the grand opening sale is on ' NOW' .
    "Then NOW is the best time," he says with a wry grin.
    He never stops to wonder what will happen if he selects a commercial that has been pre-recorded in a store that is now closed. But he does do two things. He wishes and waits.
    Nothing happens.
    "What the hell?"
    He holds the remote out in front, points and changes channels quickly, from a beer commercial back to the Best Buy ad, wishing with all his might for fame and fortune.
    Still nothing.
    He turns the television off, then on, and tries again. Point…wish…click channel button.
    Disappointed that he's still sitting in his chair, he says, "Why won't you work?"
    Scowling, he scratches his chins and replays previous actions in his head, thinking of everything he could have possibly done.
    Finally, he smiles. "Ah-ha! I touched the TV."
    Thankful he hadn't reclined his chair, he begins to rock. One…two…three! Up he goes.
    Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down.
    As a last thought, he grabs a hooded jacket he'd flung over the couch earlier that day. He doesn't bother to zip it up―he couldn't have even if he wanted to. But he does pull the hood over his head and fastens the top snap under his chins.
    He shuffles to the television and touches the faded black plastic. Making his wish, he switches back to the Best Buy commercial. In a single heartbeat, he sees his arm and hand disintegrate.
    Then Harry vanishes completely.
    * * *
    He's staring into a pitch-black cave. It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust, and when they do, he realizes that he's inside the Best Buy store―after closing. Not even a night janitor is around.
    "It works!" He jerks as his voice echoes through the cavernous building with its high, open ceiling.
    Harry is stunned. He's tempted to hit the memory button and return home to collect his thoughts. But then it hits him; he should be collecting something else. He's standing in a store filled with expensive electronic equipment. Stuff worth thousands of dollars. Per shelf. Stuff he could keep―or sell. And best of all, there's no sign of a break-in, and there'll be no evidence of his departure.
    He glances up, sees a security camera sweeping the area and pulls the hood tighter. "Security!"
    Chuckling at his brilliance, he stares at his good friend RC and strokes the small black box. "Can I take really something back with me?" He remembers something. "Well, I brought back some of the Arctic Ocean, didn't I?"
    Makes sense to him that objects can be transported just as easily as water.
    "This'll be a reconnaissance trip," he decides, thinking of the movie Ocean's Eleven with George Clooney and a host of other big name actors. "It'll be a dry run, and I'll be Clooney."
    He waddles down one aisle, grabs a Canon camera and wraps the strap around his neck. Then he shoves four small digital cameras into his jacket pockets, two per side. He grins. With a skip and a bounce in his step―well, as much as his three hundred and sixty pound frame will allow―he lumbers into a second aisle and scoops a laptop up with one hand.
    Then he sees it, the most wondrous thing in the store.
    A forty-two inch Panasonic flat-screen TV.
    Shuffling toward his treasure, he practically salivates at the sight, and he makes a decision that will make one of his routine wishes finally come true. He hugs the flat-screen, squeezes his eyes shut and says a quick