Jerry Oltion: Come Together

For the first hour or so after his braces began picking up KZEL, Kevin didn’t mind. The deejay was playing Paul McCartney’s new CD, and Kevin secretly liked those old rock ‘n’ roll duffers who carried on well into their forties. Of course he couldn’t admit that to his friends, but fortunately none of them could hear what his braces were playing. It went straight from his teeth through the jawbone right into his ears.

He’d just been to the orthodontist, who’d had the radio station playing in his office while he used a new computerized gadget to adjust the wires on Kevin’s braces, so Kevin hadn’t noticed that anything strange had happened until he left the office. He considered going back and having the braces readjusted, but the idea of picking up radio on them kind of amused him, so he walked the three blocks back to his high school and went to sixth period English class, where he hummed softly with the music while Mrs. Cooper talked about Huckleberry Finn.

Then the first batch of commercials came on, a long string of them since the last hour had all been music. Of course Mrs. Cooper chose right then to ask why Huck decided to help Jim escape from slavery, and since Kevin was obviously not paying attention, she called on him. He tried to think about the question, because he’d read the book and he knew the answer, but the voice in his head boomed, “No money down, and no payments until February! Some restrictions may apply; check your local dealer for details.”

Kevin turned his head sideways, hoping to weaken the reception, but it didn’t work. “Because,” he said, concentrating furiously, “because Jim was about to be… liquidated. I mean undersold. No, I mean sold. ”

The class erupted in laughter, all but Julie Wilson, a blonde-haired girl who sat a couple chairs ahead of Kevin. Julie wore braces, too, but Kevin had always thought she was kind of nice-looking, even so. He’d never worked up the courage to talk to her, though, and whatever hopes he’d had fled beneath the other kids’ laughter. Julie was looking at him as if an alien had just popped out of his chest.

As soon as the bell rang, he slunk out of class, but he only made it a few feet down the hallway before he heard a girl’s voice right behind him ask, “What station are you getting?”

“Huh?” Kevin asked. He looked around. It was Julie.

“On your braces,” she aid. “What station?”

“Uh, KZEL,” he told her. “What, can you hear it?”

She shook her head. “I wish. I’m getting KUGN. Country music. Right now they’re playing, ‘I Ain’t Sittin’ Up With the Dead No More Since the Dead Started Sittin’ Up Too.’ I’m about ready to hurl.”

“Bummer,” Kevin said. He was at least getting the old Boston classic, “More Than a Feeling.”

Julie frowned. “Before that it was ‘Stand By Your Man.’ ”

“Yucko. You better have your orthodontist fix it before they start playing Conway Twitty or something.”

“Too late,” she said, desperation creeping into her voice. “Too late both ways. They’ve already played him a couple of times, and the orthodontist’s office closes early on Friday. They don’t open again until Monday.”

Kevin felt a moment of panic. His orthodontist closed early on Fridays, too. They probably had the same one, and he’d probably used the same computerized gadget on both of them. Knowing what had caused it wouldn’t help them until Monday, though, and that was far too long. Kevin’s problem wasn’t as bad as Julie’s but he doubted if he could handle a whole weekend of non-stop radio, no matter what the station.

“What are we gonna do?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Julie replied. “I tried bending the wires a little bit, but they’re really strong. I think I moved one, but it didn’t make the radio go away; it just made my teeth hurt more.”

“Ow,” said Kevin. His teeth were already hurting. They always did after an adjustment.

“More Than a Feeling” faded out, followed by Gary Wright singing “Dream Weaver.” Kevin tried to ignore it and think. It was doubly hard with Julie standing right there waiting for him to come up with something intelligent.

The halls were emptying out as the other students left for home. Candace Robertson, the undisputed fashion queen of the school, came by with her retinue of worshippers and snickered when she saw Kevin and Julie side by side. “Don’t go through the door together on the way out,” she said, “or you’ll set off the metal detectors.”

The other kids giggled while Kevin and Julie blushed, but when they were gone Kevin worked up his courage and said, “That gives me an idea.”

“What?”

Kevin looked back into the English room. The teacher had already left and switched out the lights; he stepped inside and beckoned for Julie to follow him. He closed the door behind her and turned around to see her standing amid the shadowy desks, her golden hair and silver braces the brightest things in the room. Inside his head, Gary Wright sang about making it through the night.

“What’s your idea?” Julie asked.

“Well,” Kevin said, wiping his suddenly sweaty hands on his pants, “you see, the way I figure it, our braces are picking up radio stations because the wires are just the right length, and they’re reacting with the fillings in our teeth to make a primitive circuit. So if we change the electrical path, maybe that would stop the signals.” It was easy enough to say when he stuck to the theory.

Julie nodded. “That makes sense. So how do we do it?”

Kevin swallowed. His pounding pulse nearly drowned out “Dream Weaver.”

“I thought we could—” his voice squeaked and he had to swallow again. “We could try… touching our braces together?”

He waited for Julie to scream and run from the room, but after a few seconds she smiled and said, “OK, let’s give it a try.” Then she frowned. “What’s the matter?” Kevin asked. “Kiss me quick,” Julie said. “They’re starting to play ‘Achy Breaky Heart.’ ”