Fab Five Freddie

Nick had been staring at the inside of a workhorse Tektronix 2215A ocilliscope and pondering the magnitude of all it does, takes in a signal and essentially catches it, or catches up with it, and freezes it in time, like matching the speed of a motorcycle in the next lane on the highway, something moving but appearing still and observable to the eye.

None of the fleet were due for calibration, but he wanted to be ready, know the ropes. Paps had always received the Heathkit catalogs that included a scope calibrator, basically containing the time and voltage references within a tolerance good enough for non-critical work, but the school had the "official" variety of standards, this is the big league.

Something about the Teks had always fascinated him, even as a kid visiting his dad at work, it was an instrument that seemed to know things, but it's just a tool, still, a with unique vision, a crystal ball. The old ones had the round screen even, back when this eye to the soul of a circuit shed light on all the equations and theories that had been worked out largely on paper. Paper. Computers filled a room back then.

This one is a design that's over 10 years old but still everywhere in sight, every lab station. They still had a few older 475s around and even a relic boat anchor triple-5 tucked away, evidently part of the original endowment to get the program launched back when Nick was shitting in diapers. Naturally he didn't have to keep those in service but was tempted to fire one up some quiet moment when no one else is really around.

He had been hesitant to even take the cover off of the one in his office, his own to use as needed to diagnose equipment or even mess with side projects as time allows. The manuals are replete with warnings about high voltage around the CRT in particular, but then, he wasn't about to wet his finger and poke around the yoke. So he had purposefully left it powered off for a couple days then carefully undid the screws and even more carefully slid off the aqua cover. Circuits. Professionally, expertly designed and manufactured circuits. He sure wouldn't mind a tour of the grounds up in Oregon some day.

Nick didn't even hear footfalls, or maybe she crept up, Noreen poked her head around the corner to see him staring at the open case. 

"Found the meaning of life in there yet?"

He startles and whips about, draws a deep breath, then gives her an exasperated look.

"Did you just transport in here?"

"Aye aye, Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant. So what's that make you?"

"Think I'll be...a Q."

"Great. At least you're not a Vash."

"Hey now, she has great legs...for a human."

"Well you got those."

She finds a clear spot of workbench, tilts her head back and strikes a pose, wearing jeans with the cuffs rolled up, pumps and frilly socks. "Got some news today."

"Good I take it?"

"How does two classes sound."

Nick just grins, "Sounds like progress."

"I'll progress YOU."

"Later."

She gets a twinkle in the eye, like a twitch, a split-second flash of coded data. "Is...that a promise?"

So later, as they stood around in her kitchen he'd thought to ask if she'd gotten into Blondie, and right on cue,

"Fab five freddie told me everyone's high, dee-jay spinnin and savin' my mind..." rapping into a wooden spoon, never misses a beat, of course, or a word for that matter..."and now he only eats guitars YEOWW."

Nick tries a few times to jump in but these waters are wayy too swift, like most of the Morse code he hears on the air, just ends up shaking his head, this gal, she had put his ass to work cutting taters and they took a walk over to the house while they boiled.

They agreed a brewsky sounds good with supper and she shows him how to slow-pour so you don't end up with lots of head. But he could get head some other time if it sounded good.

After dinner she got that look in her eye again, after a two-beat kiss she asks for the special thing.

So now he is on top of her back, with her front on the couch, he's gently protruding, things seem to always lead back to this, where it all started, not nostalgia but looking for something new in a special place. The little thing, whatever it is, is still where it always against his tip, Nick keeps his hands busy with her front-side amenities as they exchange licks here and there, he makes it last as long as he can.

Revival

 Fall 1984

On a Saturday night Nick is stretched out on the back pew during choir practice. A few years ago, and in colder weather, he would have been doing a back stroke of sorts along the smooth floor after discovering his polymer-based coat slid like a pea on ice.

Revival starts on Thursday night and goes through Sunday night. Attendance is mandatory, at least for him still, as Tim has been attending elsewhere –as in, else where some chick or another attends. Ned had some things to work on and might make it later, but Irene didn't want Nick to miss out on anything.

There must be worse things to endure than sitting through a service to earn one's eternal security. Back in grade school years he would choose sitting with his folks in service rather than go to childrens' activities. There was a kid back then, Jack Leatherman, his mom couldn't drive at night so Irene would pick them up, and Jack would beg and plea Nick to go with him,

"I'm not like you, I can't just sit and think."

But that was Jack's problem to deal with, and now Jack is being accused of plagiarizing English papers and had some pills with him at school the other day and took one, Nick thought you had to see the nurse for medications, but, who knows.

When they arrived, some of the other guys were standing around out front snapping rubber bands, so he asked his mom if she had one in her purse, she didn't but said to ask the associate pastor Jim for one.

"What do you need it for?"

"I just want one"

"Well if you are going to shoot it at someone then I can't give you one, but if you need it to hold some books or papers then you can have one, but I'm not going to give you one just to shoot it."

Nick just pauses a second, "Never mind." Then proceeds to the back pew to lie down.

Services aren't so bad, but it seems a few times a year he ends up attending someone's wedding with his mom, usually some couple they don't know well but have been attending just for the eligibility for a church wedding.

It was during a revival service when they brought Roger Yates with them, from down the street and a year behind Nick at school. Ned drove the church van and overheard Nick advising Rog,

"People will want to shake your hand, but you don't have to."

"Nick, you know better than that, no need to be a jerk."

"Dear," Irene jabbed from the shotgun seat, somehow hearing him during her own conversation, after which Ned just shook his head and turned a corner.

After service there's a prayer response, all are welcome at the altar and the rest are invited to kneel at their pews. This is always the best time to screw around naturally as long as you can stay quiet, especially if the parents head up front.

It's at this point Nick always listens for a special feature, almost like a kid at Christmas, for Rick Stevens, the distinctive vibrato-laden tenor of the choir who usually leads out in prayer, softly at first, then building, louder, more passionate, and eventually one notices the scope builds out from the building to the entire globe. Does anyone ask him to do this?

So as ol'  Rick winds back down Nick can't help but wonder if tonight is one of those special nights that hasn't happened yet this series, the rare double-humper, where he picks it back up for another round. He's down to a whisper...amens and such...and wait...there it is, Nick can feel it, and eventually he gets there, not as fire-laden as the first hump but still makes a crescendo. Well that was something. Next time Nick will try to time it with a watch. Doesn't Radio Shack sell some sort of meter so you can get the decibels?

They get home and find Ned finishing up some things in the garage but he waves her in. Irene relates what a blessed service it was, Ned asks Nick to help with something as she heads to the house.

"Hey, just so you know, you're getting to the age where you don't need to go with her all the time. If you ever want an out just ask me, 'kay? We'll find you something to help with around here and we can do that instead."

"Okay."

"I think we're gonna make popcorn, sound good?"

"Yeah."

So they close up shop and head inside.

The Lock-In

Greeted by a squeeze at the door, along with the smell of summer veggies frying in oil, maybe some garlic bread, Nick asks, "so you've been painting today?"

"Yeap just put on some Steely Dan and zoned out."

"It's really nice. How come you never paint while I'm here?"

"You know why?"

"Why?"

"Why ask why?"

"BUD DRY!"

Noreen gets a firm grip on his buns. "My how you've grown up nicely."

"Since I'm a working man now?"

"You tell me, did Al keep you busy like I asked him to?"

Nick almost gets sidetracked by the idea of them colluding, but brushes it off, "We had lunch with a couple other faculty and the computer lab director was around, I learned a few things."

"Well we can never do that enough. So is there much work?"

"Absolutely nothing, which is expected, I have time to get used to the space."

"I'll have to visit your space soon, have meetings later this week."

"Smells awesome, kinda Italian?"

"Howbout Midwest Italian a la Nori."

"What happened to Steely Dan?"

"Ooh didn't think you were into them."

"Mostly Led Zepp from that era, but I try to get to know the classics."

"Never was big on Led Zepp but kinda got into Robert Plant in the 80s."

That brought to mind a fellow at Ned’s plant, sat at a drafting table and would work listening to stuff like Robert Plant, gave an air of sophistication.

"So much music..."

"Is something bothering you?"

Nick stares over her shoulder for a moment. "Just letting it all sink in."

"Well sit or stretch out if you want, I need to check on the kitchen."

"I'm sure it's where it's always been."

She heads toward the kitch and wiggles her rear in response.

Nick pops off the kicks and leans back sideways on the sofa, one foot on the floor. She has the windows open and a couple fans running. "Too bad I didn't think to bring shorts."

"Hey didn't I end up with those boxers from our lake adventure? Lemme check..." She finds those and he changes in her bedroom, which feels like a dream in itself, checks out the kitchen scene and holds her while she works.

"You're trying to make me screw this up aren't you?"

"It's going to be marvelous...mahbelous, zeemply mahbelous..."

"That's more like it, was starting to wonder if you'd seen a ghost recently."

"Well, kinda..."

"Alright, spill it Fritz."

Nick draws a breath and leans on the wall. "So yesterday afternoon my mom made a special request..."

"Oh the dinner, anniversary?"

"Yeah Bud and Louise, we've known them since time began, they were part of the old church, 50th anniversary."

"Oh that's so sweet."

"Yeah it was short notice and in the middle of the afternoon, or we would have seen if you wanted to come over."

"I understand, next time if you want, I'd love to, just ask. So how'd it go?"

"Huge crowd, they know everyone, but for some reason I was surprised to see one of the gals from the old group, Kandy."

"OOOhh..."

"Well, we weren't involved, she was...well...I never knew what to think of her. She's very outgoing, likes people, her sweet sixteen party filled out their house. She used to sing in front of the church during offering, things like that, always dresses up."

"Sounds like a popular girl."

"Yeah, she liked to have a lot of guys around her."

"Owwww...go on."

"At the camp meeting one time, sheesh, back in 7th grade she wanted me to sit with her and like 3 other guys, I started to go but it seemed weird so stayed with my folks."

"Sweetie that sounds about right for you."

"Anyway, she showed up with her kids last night, and it reminded me of the big youth thing at the Y."

"Oh I've been in your Y, it's an older building?"

"Yeah, they had the pool open, I went with Vance and we just walked around, there were hot dogs and baked beans, fart food -"

She laughs into her hands, "Oh honey"

"Well that's what they always have...you still with me?"

"Keep going, you putz."

"Alright, well we went up to the top level, the running track, and there's a small hallway, so we took that and figured we'd try an unmarked door, it was unlocked, and we found the roof."

"Ohh cool."

"Well, at first..."

"Utoh."

"We heard voices, so we crept along, Vance went ahead and looked around a corner, then he pulled back with eyes like saucers. I took a look, and it was her, well, part of her..."

"Oh God, how old were you?"

"Freshman year, well, my freshman, her junior at one of the private schools.

"Oh the academy?"

"You know it...and she ended up getting pregnant the next year and had to finish at Halloway. So...there she was leaning against, I think, the rail, couldn't see past her waist, but we could see this dude named Tad, tall blond, muscles, girls thought he was hot shit but basically a cock."

"So where was his cock?"

"It took me a minute to figure out exactly what was going on, he still had his trunks on, but she was standing on something, I knew those black shoes, short heels, and her french-cut swimsuit, that used to get the moms buzzing."

"Oh I bet it would in that setting."

"Yeah and, well she kinda had the dimples, on the thighs, back there..."

"Cellulite?"

"Sounds right."

"Well if she's still that confident with her body I have to admire that, sassy heels, good lord, but still, this was at a church thing?

"Totally a church thing, you know, several congregations put this on every year, I think they moved it since then, but anyway, yeah, we hightailed it out of there, and for whatever reason I didn't bother to close the roof door."

Noreen busts up laughing.

"Did you tell anyone?"

"Nope, we were done, slipped out then walked around town then got home about the same time we would have, needed to let it wear off."

"Um...let what wear off exactly?"

"Huh? Oh the shock..."

She chuckles, "I'm messing with you."

"Oh...no, I had never thought of her that way, she just seemed a tad creepy, I couldn't trust her."

"Sounds like somebody did. So is he the father of her kids?"

"Probably not, they're black."

"Oh, wow....progressive."

"Yeah that caused a stir."

"Among a bunch of white church folk? Wouldn't have guessed..." with a knowing look.

"So yeah, seeing her now, pudgier and less talkative, she's preoccupied with kids and I just stayed out of her way."

"I dunno, did the facility have a roof?"

"Ill roof YOU."

After a good once-over they have the bodacious summer feast, watch the news, some MST3k, some frolicking, they make love slowly, on their knees, in their underwear, with a Night Ranger tape playing at low volume, facing the open window towards the woods, with Nick glad to be alive, to be here, at this time, and with her.

A Long Bike Ride In The Country

August 2, 1992

Sunday morning, regardless of one's location or level of involvement, is ingrained into many as a time of reflection and reckoning. There's clearly a reason for the rhythm we've come to know as sabbath, sabbatical, time set aside for rest. A critical eye will note that this rhythm is as old as any written history; we are stuck with it and it with us – and within us - as flies in amber.

Even when there's not much of a set routine during the week, although Nick pretty much keeps the same hours at the store, or did, he wakes up to the smell of breakfast cooking which has always been the tell of a Sunday or maybe a holiday, or in earlier years that family was staying with them.

So they enjoy pancakes and eggs around 7:30 then Nick usually ends up back in his bed, then once his folks head to church he switches on the FM or puts on a tape. Back in the day Irene once jumped his case for finding cartoons on some distant channel on a Sunday morning as they got ready, so he tries to respect the space, at least, for as long as it's shared space.

Tomorrow he starts the new gig. Sue had called and asked if he could start a week later than planned, since they realized it would be much cleaner on the books, and this was no problem, Bain wasn't going to mind. In fact, Nick is pretty sure he won't be officially off the payroll anytime soon.

There's a point in the summer where it turns into a fever dream of sorts, the conscience takes a partial shutdown, fancies and ethereal forays take over. The season has nothing left to prove, it's here and happening, we'll make things hot if we want, storm if we need to, but not always. He finds himself longing for a bike ride on a country road to visit that girl he never would have visited, she knew things, it was in her silence, she'd seen or done things she couldn't come out and say, or maybe she was trying to, just in a foreign tongue. Cat-eyed and outgoing, had a fine body, probably still does, even after a couple of kids at this point, last he'd heard, but she's someone else's mystery to solve, if ever, even if at a point in time she had shot lightning into his soul and triggered a mass eruption onto his poor mattress, on a Sunday morning.

It had all started the time he saw her across the foyer, the way she stood, looking downward with her eyes but with a hint of awareness, her face and her bosom seemed to form a teardrop of sorts, whatever she was feeling, or thinking, her countenance: a teardrop.

Things are so much mellower now, somehow, the stakes aren't as high, paradoxically. Work makes sense, it brings purpose, solving problems, and lo, some things can't be solved.

Without thinking he looks at Noreen's tender gaze from the corkboard across the room. She brings order, yet, can be crazy as a weasel at times, he feels he owes her the world. Perhaps he does. She asks so little, very independent, as is he, still...she tells him we'll take things day by day. In circuits we use this and that component to regulate voltage and current, he can say one thing, the relationship feels well regulated, maybe he should tell her so, worst case, she'll laugh.

Day by day.

Despite the lab becoming one of his favorite places in the world, this would be different, not school, no smell of fresh notepads to fill up with scribbles that will be utterly incomprehensible in just a few hours, no filling out a schedule page to have it changed during the first week. Nick has to choke back fears that this is not a good idea. The first thing will be to make the space his own, and then, well, go from there. Day by day.

He gets dressed, leaves a note on the counter,

Taking a long bike ride in the country

And so he does, and he follows the leading, despite reservations, out to Bechner road, that homestead with the barn where he'd stopped with his mom to drop something off. It's still early enough to be pleasant with the smell of dew starting the ritual bake off the lawns, then fields as he gets further out. Not many cars to deal with at least, then he sees the place.

Consciously or not he had worn a cap and shades, despite the near-total cloud cover. The house is as he remembers but the barn is somehow different, maybe that dream made it what it needed to be for its purpose. As he draws closer he sees kids playing near a small swingset, and a blond pony tail and an arm draping over the back bench swing, Nick's blood runs ice cold.

He nearly retreats but keeps going, trying to steal a subtle glance here and there, but she doesn't seem to notice him, one of the kids needs attention and she hops up, unfettered bosoms flop in a loose-fitting sundress, she's added some weight but carries it well, looks completely at home. Good for her.

Now that the spell is broken, at least for the moment, he gambles that the next road will circle him back around where he needs to go, the next task is to get home, flip on the Icom, mess with the modem, have some lunch, and go from there.

HORSESHIT

 "Hey...have you been OK lately?"

"Yeah, just don't know what to think."

"About..."

"Starting the lab thing...us..."

"Do you have doubts about any of it?"

"Not doubts, just don't know what to think."

"Do you need a break from...us?"

"No, I just can't get my head around all of it."

"Sweetie now I'm concerned, do you need some time to yourself?"

"Tell me about your day."

"Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"I do, just having some kind of brain fart."

She sighs and he can hear a smile in her voice, "well I suppose that's better than the other kind....OK...slept in some, did some editing and such all morning then watched some brats while Sandy went to play in town, should get some income this week which is always nice..."

"Hold on....*sniff*...*inhales*...HORSESHIT!"

Silence.

"You there?"

After a bit of silence. "Ahh bloody hell...*rustling*...*clank*...*water flowing*...*sigh*"

"You OK?"

"(giggling) Yeah, all that lemonade from the house hit right as you had to sneeze like that, good lord - do you do that within earshot of your folks?"

"Dad just smirks and Mom has never caught on to my knowledge, or won't acknowledge it, whatever, Tim and I started that crap years ago."

"Man that's too much, you're killing me tonight you know that?"

"So does the lemonade still look the same as -"

He hears the phone hit the floor then muffled laughter in the distance.

Out Back

Ned carries the folding chairs and Irene a big bowl of fruit salad, about an hour after their ballcap-wearing son had given his girlfriend a brief yet thorough manhandling just inside her front door before they they headed over to the fire pit to help set up.

After introductions it's not long before the ladies are in a gaggle and Bart gives a grand tour of the shops. At one point Nick notices a poster he hadn't noticed before, with a professional sheen and stylized "turd AUTOMOTIVE", mixed in on a wall with the muscle cars and girls and hot rods.

"What the?" He pipes up.

Bart tunes in, "Oh yeah, that was a joke someone showed us a while back, you'd be surprised how many folks never bother to notice it, or admit they do, same difference."

Ned just shakes his head as Nick has to lean on a bench laughing, turns to Bart, "I never met this guy."

"Aww he's a good 'un, never seen Sis this happy."

At one point there's a welding bench with both wire and stick plus brazing tanks, plus the obligatory topless calendar that always shows up in a welding shop, obvious silicone-based highbeams staring them in the face. Bart notices the guys grinning at the calendar and points to it, "You didn't see that," then heads toward the door to the auto bays.

Eventually they head back to the fold, Nick finds his gal with hair clipped up on one side, and Ned finds something in the cooler, Nick's still not comfortable drinking alcohol in front of his folks. Evidently the hog has been cooking in the pit since last night and they're about to carve it a new one.

He asks Noreen, "So do we make sammiches with the hog?"

"I usually just chew on a leg."

"Later."

This gets him a threateningly raised eyebrow. "Mister I don't think you can handle later...if we can get away we can check on Billy's place, they left me the key, and there's a pool out back..."

"Hmmmm."

"Yeah. It's a clear night too, should be stars."

"I doubt my folks will stay past nine if that. Didn't bring my trunks tho."

She just grins and holds her gaze.

"Oh, right...out back."

"Now yer catchin' on, sport."

And then onto mingling and eventually a plate of shredded pork from somewhere on that hog, with a sweet Hawaiian bun and slaw, it seems her dad had spent some time down south and wouldn't have a cookout without it, funny how you reach an age when you can appreciate certain things.

As predicted, his folks had a wonderful time but needed to turn in soon, they head out and not long after Noreen starts giving him a look. He responds with an inquisitive gaze of his own and she leads them past the cooler, grabs a brew and sneaks it to him, "Keep this cold."

She drives. "So did you catch any eye candy over by the welders?"

"Bart says we didn't see that."

"Sounds about right. Actually that's a tradition, Daddy again, claimed it kept the welder sharp and focused, then Mom would sew or knit knickers and brassieres to glue on whenever she felt feisty."

"Classic," Nick grins.

"Was glad your parents could make it tonight, hope we didn't scare them too bad."

"This felt like one of Dad's company picnics actually."

"That works."

"Bart seemed to notice us sneaking off, made me wonder."

"Well he's about 4 or 5 beers deep at this point so don't wonder too much."

"Have you ever read the BC comic strip much?"

"Yeah sometimes."

"Starting to think he reminds me of Curls."

Noreen puts her hand to her mouth and giggles for most of a mile. Sooner than later they pull into a driveway and make their way through a well-kept house and to the back patio.

They crack the beer while slowly shedding outerwear and settle at pool's edge with four feet in. There's still the last bit of sun to hide behind the trees but there's no one else in sight or sound.

Before long she pops of her remaining underthings and slips into the water, artful backstrokes, confidently as always, giving him a peep of this and that here and there. 

"How's the water?"

"Like always, chilly at first."

"I can see that."

"Bite me."

Nick finishes the last of the can and joins her.

The embrace is familiar enough, and sultry, continuing where they'd left off earlier, but he feels he owes her, so he makes his way down her front side with his mouth then sets her on the edge and goes to town, downtown, gradually at first then kicks it in, fingers, teeth, explores everywhere with the hands, going for the gold, gets a knuckle deep into the back door, just to stay acquainted.

She gasps, "Nick, sweetie, you have nothing to prove."

He just continues, she responds, this time with a burst of air from wherever, a petite Bronx Cheer, then rests on the deck. Nick climbs out and scoops her up into his arms. "You said to bite you."

She doesn't even respond and he lets her rest a few minutes.

Eventually she stirs and clasps his arm, then feels around in her groin for a second.

"Anything missing?" He can't resist.

She looks up at him and pulls out the hair clip, slides back into the water, then pulls his arm. "Alright smarty, gimme what I came for."

Nick gets in and she wraps herself around him, feels his upper body then finds his member, kisses him, then heads to the edge to grab a flotation board and uses it to swim back to him. She faces him then leans back against the board and keeps a hold of it while wrapping her legs around his waist.

Once inside her he feels a mile wide, no need to hurry, the night is young, they move for a while, then stop a while, she just smiles into the stars, and eventually, she gets what she came for.

No-Nos and Old Boys

November, 1976

Nick and Tim are camped out on the dark green sofa staring at Hee Haw on a Zenith console as Ned relaxes with a beer and  grandma June and Irene cackle in the kitchen, at least the adults are having a good time. The old toys have been put away since the boys can't stop fighting over them and at this point are too tired to even pick at each other, not so much a physical tired, but tired of all the no-nos and getting growled at, they had to eat turkey and potatoes AGAIN, sometimes it's just too much work.

Ned's dad is busy with the radios and so they have to stay in here and be quiet until he is done, then they can visit him, although Tim really wants to play with the basement games but no one else will humor him while digesting. They are here for the night and then to grandparent's church in the morning for some unwanted attention.

Just as the twins with the guitars finish singing and they cut to commercial, "Boys? Wanna sit with me?"

He looks up and Paps is standing there with that half grin, "Come on."

So Nick gets up and looks at his brother, just slumped in the couch and looking hopeless, he doesn't appear much alive let alone interested. Tim’s been a pain lately anyway. Nick has been trying to experience a rocket launch with his bike along the sidewalk, which launches after a countdown from ten then you have to accelerate, and keep accelerating, to reach the moon. For it to work, someone else would need to run point and try to keep everyone else off the sidewalk or at least warn if there’s a car, but Tim usually just rides off to screw around. 

Screw ‘im, Nick makes his way back to the shack. It's a small, paneled room with a lot of shelves and the postcards with the letters and numbers, all different colors, and the aroma of pipe tobacco is stronger here than anywhere else in the house. Some of the shelves have books but the center piece are two layers of boxes with knobs, most say "Heath" but one has a red stamp that reads COLLINS.

"I just finished up the traffic net, sorry I had to shut everyone out but after all these years I still get distracted too easy."

Paps eases into his squeaky wheeled chair and dominates it, seated at an angle to the desk, his hand rests next to the thing he uses to send the clicks and beeps. After a burst of inspiration he starts tuning around on the Collins. "Lessee if any of these ne'er-do-wells are still around, we'll skedoo on up to sideband-land."

He reaches for a microphone, pulls it front and center and hits a few switches here and there. After a few turns of the dial there's a sound that's like a voice but just the cadence, then turns into a duck full of helium, then eventually he hears a thin voice that appears to be frustrated with deer hunting.

After a few more sentences Paps taps the base of the mic,"Haven't you learned to shoot straight yet? W9EAU."

"It's about time you piped up Jimmy, heard ya on the CW there, come on in."

"I just heard you so far Dave so I'll turn it back to the next in line, got my grandson Nick here, my younger boy's gang is up from Jameson."

A different voice, "WA9OVQ here- I'll pick it up, good to hear you Jim, Hi to Nick and tell Ned he needs to come join the hunt, and Dave, I know what you mean..." and he goes on.

Nick could smell a kind of heat in the air, similar to the back of a TV set, he asks Paps, "Do your radios have the bulbs inside?"

"Heh, yeah they have tubes in 'em, we're not to the point to have these rigs all solid state, shouldn't be long, I hear the Japs are working on it hand over fist, no surprise there."

The radio voices ramble on and Nick is content, he'd get hugged in the kitchen and otherwise it's the couch, but then pretty soon Ned and Tim appear at the door.

Paps looks up and says, "Watch this, " and motions Nick over.

"W9EAU with special guest, go ahead and say hi to these guys Nicky."

Nick steps up toward the mic, looks at Paps grinning, then up at his dad, also grinning, Tim is just slumped against the opposite doorpost, so Nick kinda shrugs and says, 

"Hey there old boys, whatcha doin?"

Paps simply unkeys the mic and puts his head down to chuckle, Ned bends over laughing, and there's a chorus of laughter from the speaker."

"Hey there Nicky, good to hear your voice, bud - Jim you better get this kid licensed before long."

"Roget that," another joins in.

"Hey Mister Nick."

Paps shakes his head and keys up, "Well there ya have it, he knows what he's talking about doesn't he? I think we're gonna head downstairs and play the table games with these monkeys, I'll QRT for now, have a good night if I don't make it back on here, whiskey-niiiinnnne-echo-alpha-united...seven-three."

After the round of seven-threes and guunites Paps keys for a final "gunnite all" and shuts down the boxes with the glowing bulbs inside.