The reel to reel audio recorder Hank found in the attic of the old firehouse was pretty cool. When the town had the new firehouse built, it was apparently the case that no one swept through the attic. Hank bought the building from the city to convert it into a restaurant and brewery. As the contract states, he owns the building and the contents.
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Every morning I wake up and write the first thing that comes to mind, then write a story around it. This type of writing is sometimes called ’flash fiction’. This is Flash Fiction February. Get a book and have a complimentary paid subscription. https://ycr.info
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There isn’t much up there. An old dresser, some empty suitcases, a pile of newspapers, and the old 1960 something portable reel to reel audio recorder. It looked as though it could be in working order. It was used, but in the original box, and it had a dust-cover case to keep it protected. It showed some wear, but squeaky clean.
Hank knows a little about electronics. He knew better than to plug it in right away, not before making sure everything would move easily and not be all dried out. He fetched his shaver kit and located the little tube of machine oil that comes with that. He opened up the appropriate areas and made sure the reels turned, and that the tape guide and all of those small moving parts were functioning. He took a good look at the tape too, hoping it was not all dried up, oxidized and degraded. It all seemed to be in enough working order to give it a shot.
Now the moment of truth came. These old things have only two prong plugs, there is no ground. Hank, to be safe, before plugging it into power, connected a three prong adapter. He was delighted to see that it lit up well. When he pressed the play button, the reels turned. He turned off the power and unplugged it again. Then he fed the tape into the magnet guide, and onto the other reel. He turned it by hand a couple of times.
Hank pressed the play button and the tape was blank. The sound had a little hiss, and there was some degradation, so the tiny needle on the neat little meter on the front of the unit moved. Suddenly, Hank hears “hello” on the speaker. It sounds to him like someone was testing out the unit in the past.
More noises are heard. It sounds like a group of men eating around a table. The words are inaudible, but the sounds are unmistakably the sounds of a meal being shared. There are burst of laughter, and joking and sarcastic intonations. It very well could be the firemen from that old location.
Then, once again, the word “hello” comes out of the machine. This time it seems more pronounced, and on purpose, like someone is trying to get a reply. Hank doesn’t think much of it, and he has to return to the attic to finish cleaning. He runs a shop vacuum and gathers up the things that are up there.
Coming back down the ladder, he haphazardly places the pile of newspapers next to the reel to reel player, and the pile slides onto the floor. As he pulls the pile back together, he sees a headline. “Six Firemen Lost in Multi-Company Effort.” As he continues to stack the pages, he sees the photos in the paper of all of the lost men. There’s a very nice photo of them, in the dining room of the firehouse he now owns, sitting around a table, eating, with smiles and laughing faces.
Hank reaches up to the reel to reel tape player and turns it on again. “Hello.”
The End
589 Words
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