F. Wilson - Secret Circles

What ever, it looked like he‟d listened to her. Jack noticed that his gloved hands were shaking.

Nervous? Or did he need a drink?

Walt shrugged then. “Sure. Why not?”

Jack suffered through the ground-floor tour—what did he care about the meeting room and the office? Finally Walt led him down to where he wanted to be: the basement.

At the moment the rec room was a big open space with a bare floor of dirty vinyl tile. A mahogany bar with beer spigots up front and mirrored shelves behind ran three-quarters the length of one wall. A TV sat on a low cabinet under a squat window. All the chairs and tables were stacked in a corner. A battered wringer bucket sat in the middle of the floor with a mop handle jutting toward the ceiling.

Walt gestured to the space. “I don‟t know why they want the floor mopped before the

smokers—these guys are real slobs when it comes to keeping beer in their cups. But if that‟s what they want, that‟s what they get.”

Jack wandered over to the TV cabinet and opened the doors. He wanted to make sure he‟d heard Mr. Bainbridge right about the new VCR.

“What‟s up, Jack?” he heard Walt say behind him.

“Just checking out your electronics.”

Yep. There it sat: a brand-new Panasonic. And next to it a couple of videotape boxes labeled

Electric Lady and Pizza Girls with scantily clad women on the covers. He tore his gaze away from them as something clicked in his brain. He looked back at the tape player and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the three letters following the brand logo.

VHS

“No!”

He checked again. No mistake. It said VHS and the tape slot was definitely too big.

“Something wrong, Jack? You okay?”

He was anything but okay, and something was definitely and terribly wrong as he realized what he‟d done.

I screwed up! All that risk for nothing!

He‟d recorded the Vivinos on a Betamax cassette. It wouldn‟t play on a VHS.

“I‟m okay,” he managed to say. “Just remembered something I‟d forgotten.” He turned and started for the door. “I‟ll finish the tour later.”

“Ain‟t nothin‟ left to see.”

Jack didn‟t reply as he hurried upstairs and out into the fresh air.

“Jerk!” he whispered as he broke into a trot up Quakerton Road. “You complete jerk !”

Mr. Rosen had bought a Betamax camcorder—that was why it had been cheap. Jack had been so tickled to have a video camera at his disposal, he hadn‟t paid attention to what kind. And why should he, considering the VCR in his own house was a Beta?

Dad‟s doing. Years ago he‟d bought a Betamax, supposedly better than the competing VHS

model. Maybe it was, but it lost out to the other format because VHS tapes recorded longer. So most folks used VHS these days.

But not Dad. He insisted Betamax was better and refused to switch until the current machine died. Why change if it recorded and played back and did everything a VCR should?

So of course the Vivino tape had played perfectly on his home machine last night—a Beta cassette in a Beta player.

But it would not play on the VFW machine.

He had to find some way to turn this around.

2

“Hey, I don‟t know, Jack,” Eddie said.

“Just for thirty minutes,” Jack said as he went about

disconnecting the Connell family‟s VCR from their TV. “Not a second longer, I swear.”

“But I still don‟t get why you need it.”

“Just running a little experiment between Beta and VHS.”

In a way that was true. Sort of. Not so much an experiment as a desperate, last-ditch effort to salvage Operation Vivino.

“What kind of experiment?”

“I‟ll let you know if it works.” He finished unscrewing the VCR‟s coaxial cable. “Until then, have you got a blank tape I can borrow? I‟ll replace it later.”

Eddie fished in a drawer and came up with one still in the wrapper.

Perfect.

“Need any help?”

“That‟s okay. You hang here and I‟ll be right back.”

Tucking the VCR under his arm, Jack hurried out the front door toward home. He wanted to run but didn‟t dare risk dropping the Connells‟ VCR—a VHS model.

The only good thing so far about today was that it was another of his mother‟s volunteer days at the hospital. He had the house to himself until she came home. He wasn‟t exactly sure when that would be so he had to hurry.

Once inside he dropped to his knees before the Betamax—already partially unhooked—and went to work.

First, he plugged in the VHS and attached the cable from its input to the Beta‟s output. Then he unwrapped the new VHS tape, inserted it, and hit the record button. The Vivino tape was already in the Betamax, so all he had to do was hit PLAY.

He waited ten minutes—the scene he‟d caught hadn‟t lasted even five—then rewound and ejected the tape. After stuffing it in his backpack, he ran outside, hopped on his bike, and began pedaling like mad.

3

“Please be there,” Jack muttered as he rolled up the front walk. His heart sank as he saw the door closed, but he leaped off his bike, letting it fall, and ran up to the front door. He tried the knob and found it open. “Walt?” he called, stepping inside. “You still here?”

“Still here,” came a voice from the stairwell. “Come on down.”

Jack did just that and found Walt starting to drag a table across the floor. Jack

leaped to his side.

“Let me help you with that.”

“Now that the floor‟s finally dry,” Walt said as they carried it to the center of the room, “time to move everything back. This one goes right here. Thanks, Jack.” “No

problem. You need help with the rest?”

“That‟s okay.”

“Hey, I‟m here. Why not?”

Walt grinned. “Okay. Appreciate that.”

As Jack helped drag chairs and tables to wherever Walt said they belonged, his

gaze kept drifting to the VCR cabinet. He had to find a way to get in there again.

They

were maybe three-quarters finished when a woman‟s voice echoed down the stairwell.

“Walter? May I speak with you a moment?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, Mrs. Clevenger.” Walt looked at Jack and shrugged. He looked worried. “Be right there.”

“Go ahead,” Jack said, fighting a grin of triumph. “Take your time. I‟ll finish up.”

As much as Jack would have loved to know what those two were talking about, he had other priorities. So as soon as Walt was out of sight, he grabbed the tape from his backpack and flew to the VCR cabinet. He opened the doors and dumped the Electric Lady tape out of its box, then replaced it with his own. His had no label, but he could only hope no one noticed or cared. He snapped it shut and replaced it in the cabinet.

Now … what to do with the real tape? He‟d have loved to take it home and watch it, but he couldn‟t play it on his machine. So he slipped it behind the cabinet. Walt was done with moving furniture for the day, so it would be safe for the present.

But the tape he‟d replaced it with … he hadn‟t had time to check it, so he didn‟t even know if the video transfer had been successful. For all he knew, they‟d be showing a blank tape to night.

By the time Walt returned, Jack had all the chairs arranged around the tables.

Walt beamed. “You‟re a real good guy, Jack, y‟know that?”

“Nothing to it. Um, what did Mrs. C want?”

His smile vanished and he looked uneasy. “Not much. She just wants me to hang around somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Just … around.”

Jack could see he was uncomfortable and decided not to push. Besides, he had to get home and straighten out the VCR mess he‟d left behind before his mom got home.