He has somehow been transported inside the television set. No! Not in it, but in the location where the current TV show was shot.
"What is that?" She leans closer. "Good God! He's surrounded by gold."
The words 'Fort Knox – United States Bullion Depository' scrolls across the screen.
"My God, Harry is trying to rob Fort Knox."
She begins to pace the room, struggling with thoughts of what she should do.
Should I call the police? Should I wait for him to return? What if he doesn't return?
The remote control draws her attention.
"This is some kind of teleportation device." She rubs her forehead, then pauses. "And I bet anything he needs it to come back."
She thinks of the words. Remote…control.
"Remote means separated or far removed in space, time or relation," she says. "Control means power or authority to guide someone or something."
She looks at the TV screen. She sees Harry turning around in slow circles, his hands over his ears to block the sound of the shrill alarm. There is a terrified expression on his face, and he looks like he'll burst into tears at any second.
Bea crouches in front of the TV. Her husband peers up at her and she realizes that for a man with great memory recall, he's never once acknowledged how badly he's treated her.
"You've been controlling me for years, Harry. I think it's time for you to be…remote."
* * *
Harry is panting so rapidly he feels like he'll pass out. The alarm threatens to burst his ear drums.
"Think, Harry!"
His ticket home―his old pal RC―is on the living room floor in his house. In another country, for crying out loud. And he's sure he heard Bea say something just before he vanished.
Maybe she can see me, he thinks.
He has no idea how this part works.
Maybe I should've set up a video camera to tape the television.
"Maybe I never should've tried for the gold," he berates himself.
The alarm shuts off.
"Thank you, God."
He hears a dull thud. His heart begins to race as he realizes there's only one reason for the alarm to shut off. The police must have arrived, and any minute they're going to come swarming through the vault door to arrest him.
"They'll put me in jail," he cries. "I can't go to jail."
He realizes there's only one thing left to do. If in fact Bea can see him on the television, he must plead with her to push the memory button.
"Bea, if you can hear me, you've got to press the memory button on the remote control."
He hears more clanging on the other side of the vault door.
"Please, Bea. Push the memory button!"
Maybe she can't hear me.
The vault door lets out a hiss. It's about to open and when it does Harry's fate will be sealed.
"Bea! Press memory! We can go on holidays, buy a new house, anything you want."
Harry never even considers that his wife might have other plans―plans that don't include Harold Fielding and his gargantuan belly and his mean-spirited temper.
* * *
Bea watches her husband on the TV and carefully considers her options.
"Quick!" Harry cries out, quaking in fear. "You have to press the memory button!"
He looks pitiful on the screen. Small, weak, pathetic.
Bea's fearful expression begins to transform. Her lips curve upward into a slight smile and the twinkle returns to her eyes.
Behind Harry the vault door is opening.
"Bea!" he bellows. "Press the goddamn memory button!"
Her finger hesitates over the red button. One touch and Harry might come home.
"Hurry up, for God's sake!" Harry growls. "Why are you always so damned slow at everything? Move your fat ass!"
Even smart men can be stupid. And this time, Harry has pushed her too far.
Bea heaves a sigh. "So I have the fat ass, do I?"
Her finger moves to the top of the remote. The large button, upper right.
"Bea! Push the memory button or so help me I'll―"
She turns off the TV.
For ten minutes, Bea doesn't move. She just gazes into the blank screen of the old television, wondering about Harry's fate. She knows one thing for sure. Harry got his wish for fame and fortune. His infamy will send him to prison. His fingerprints all over the gold will keep him there for decades.
Let's hope Bea can live with what she's done.
The five gold bars she finds the next morning in the garbage bag on Harry's recliner might help.
As for Harry, he has finally learned the greatest lesson of all. All the wishing in the world can't bring you the kind of fame or fortune you desire. You've got to work hard for these.
What about you, dear reader? Are you wishing for something? For fame, fortune or freedom?
If so, just remember these words…
Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.
~ * ~
Message from Cheryl:
I hope you enjoyed REMOTE CONTROL as much as I enjoyed writing it. I wrote a shorter version back in 1987 as part of a Journalism and Short Story Writing course I was taking at the time. REMOTE CONTROL was one of my favorite assignments. Perhaps it was inspired by that old saying: "Be careful what you wish for." Somewhere in a box in the basement I have a record of the mark I received on this assignment, but if memory serves me right, it was somewhere in the high 90s, as were most of my assignment marks.
Back then, I dreamed of becoming a published author and seeing my books in print. I've achieved that dream, and now with the innovations of eBooks and eReaders, I'm seeing my books on monitors and screens too.
You will shortly be able to read more of my short stories as a collection of shorts will be released in eBook format (and perhaps later in paperback). This collection is called Skeletons in the Closet & Other Creepy Stories. It contains 13 of my best short stories and this novelette REMOTE CONTROL.
Skeletons in the Closet & Other Creepy Stories will make a perfect gift for anyone with a computer, smart phone or eReader.
Sweet dreams…
If you enjoyed this book, please consider writing a short review and posting it on eBook retailer websites, especially the one you bought this eBook from. Reviews are very helpful to other readers and are greatly appreciated by authors. When you post a review, drop me an email and let me know, and I may feature part of it on my blog/site. Thank you. ~ Cheryl
[email protected]
Novels by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
Whale Song
Whale Song: School Edition
The River
Children of the Fog
Submerged
Series by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
The Divine Trilogy (in order):
Divine Intervention (Book 1)
Divine Justice (Book 2)
Divine Sanctuary (Book 3)
Short Stories by Cheryl Kaye Tardif
Remote Control
Skeletons in the Closet & Other Creepy Stories
Novels by Cherish D'Angelo (AKA Cheryl Kaye Tardif)
Lancelot's Lady
About the Author
Cheryl Kaye Tardif is an award-winning, international bestselling Canadian suspense author. Her novels include Divine Sanctuary, Submerged, Divine Justice, Children of the Fog, The River, Divine Intervention, and Whale Song, which New York Times bestselling author Luanne Rice calls "a compelling story of love and family and the mysteries of the human heart...a beautiful, haunting novel."
She is now working on her next thriller.
Cheryl also enjoys writing short stories inspired mainly by her author idol Stephen King, and this has resulted in Skeletons in the Closet & Other Creepy Stories (eBook) and Remote Control (novelette eBook). Her short stories are featured in various anthologies, including Shadow Masters and What Fears Become.
In 2010 Cheryl detoured into the romance genre with her contemporary romantic
suspense debut, Lancelot's Lady, written under the pen name of Cherish D'Angelo.
Booklist raves, "Tardif, already a big hit in Canada…a name to reckon with south of the border."
Cheryl's website: http://www.cherylktardif.com
Official blog: http://www.cherylktardif.blogspot.com
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/cherylktardif
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Cheryl-Kaye-Tardif-novels/29769736630
You can also find Cheryl Kaye Tardif on Goodreads, Shelfari and LibraryThing, plus other social networks.
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