By Jonathan B. Ferrini
Victor grew up inside a trailer park with dilapidated trailers packed together like tuna in a rusty old can. His grandmother’s trailer smelled of cleaning supplies; the scent she brought home from cleaning offices overnight. She raised Victor alone after his mother abandoned him for a life as a hippie drifting from commune to commune.
She knew he was different: not able to speak, withdrawn, unable to tie his shoes, write his name, never learning personal hygiene and unable to feed himself. Schools labeled him “retarded” and wouldn’t enroll him.
In the corner of the trailer sat a dying black-and-white television with bent rabbit ears. Victor sat cross-legged inches from the television screen, mesmerized by flickering images while the picture rolled and the sound hissed. His grandmother couldn’t afford a sitter to supervise him while she worked. Victor didn’t require supervision because the television and a transistor radio kept him engaged inside a world, he felt safe.
The components of a broken transistor radio were Victor’s playmates: a ferrite rod antenna wrapped in copper; a small oval loudspeaker; and the tuning capacitor. Other friends included the compact circuit board, cylindrical transistors, and striped resistors.
He spread the radio components across the floor. His grandmother gave him a wooden puzzle set of familiar geometric patterns. Victor preferred triangles because they had a base and stood upright like he was signaling the need for steadiness.
Victor built faces with the components of the radio; two round capacitors became eyes; a curved wire became a mouth sometimes bent upward, flat, or dipped into a quiet sadness; the loudspeaker formed the body; the ferrite rod antenna became a spine; and copper coils became hair. He placed a small transistor perched on top like a hat, tilted just enough to suggest the figure was attempting to say “hello” with a tip of its hat. Victor used components the way other children handled crayons.
His grandmother described his component constructions to his pediatrician, “He always places a mouth on the triangles.”
The pediatrician suggested,“I believe these triangles are Victor’s only way of communicating his feelings. Children like Victor require around the clock care and will never amount to anything more than grown toddlers. As he grows into manhood and you become frail, there is no alternative but to have Victor committed to a state hospital where retarded children are cared for and live out their lives.”
*
The intake office at the Junction State Hospital smelled of antiseptic and urine. The intake social worker, Joanie Greenstreet, watched Victor closely as he rocked in his chair, eyes drifting toward the ceiling.
“This is the worst part of my job. It’s best you slip out of the room with no goodbye, so Victor isn’t aware.”
Victor’s grandmother left her grandson forever.
*
Junction State Hospital was built in 1940 on state land inside the countryside, out of sight, and out of mind where the paved road with sidewalks and streetlights gave way to a narrow dirt road leading past the locked rusting gates of the hospital resembling a haunted mansion.
The hospital was for children who did not speak; rocked incessantly; banged their heads against walls; screamed at sounds no one else could hear; and couldn’t feed or bathe themselves. They were children with autism before autism had a proper name; Down Syndrome; Cerebral Palsy; learning disabilities, and genetic conditions doctors didn’t understand.
Their care required around the clock attention, which was beyond the financial resources for most families. The parents were convinced by medical providers “long-term placement”; “specialized supervision”; and “they’ll be safer” were the only alternative.
Fathers hurriedly carried suitcases inside and left quickly while mothers cried openly and others didn’t cry, having lost the ability. Many parents never came inside choosing to hand their child off to an attendant from the car like dropping a package marked “No Return Address” into a mailbox.
As the children matured inside Junction, they roamed the narrow hallways, heard keys, and came accustomed to the smell of disinfectants, faeces, and urine. They quickly learned which staff were gentle and which were not.
When they died without family, there was nowhere for them to go except for an undignified cemetery on the hospital grounds.
*
Victor was placed in a ward with boys suffering from mild to severe disabilities. Some were cunning and feigned friendship, sitting next to Victor on the edge of his bed only to touch the portable television he brought with him which he hid under the bed. His radio components were confiscated, thrown away as “choking hazards” which eliminated the safe and kind world which might shield Victor from for the horrors of the ward. He erupted into violent fits requiring sedation and restraints at times. Victor refused group activities and meals if it meant leaving the TV behind.
*
Joanie Greenstreet was a young post-doc psychologist who tried to help Victor adjust but couldn’t reach him. She offered to keep the television safe inside her office, but Victor wouldn’t allow it to be taken from him.
The hospital’s chief psychiatrist was determined to permanently medicate Victor and subdue him into submission, but Joanie pleaded for more time to reach Victor explaining,
“I see something special inside Victor, Doctor Spencer. I need more time to reach him.”
“You supervise a large ward of boys demanding your attention and making Victor a ‘pet project’ isn’t fair to the others, but I’ll give you a limited amount of time.”
*
Doctor Spencer’s words dusted up Joanie’s memories of a failed marriage to a man whose family tree spawned several babies with “Down Syndrome” and, when she became pregnant with his baby as an undergraduate, he demanded she receive Amniocentesis testing.
The results came back showing the genetic markers for a baby with Down Syndrome. “You’ll have an abortion, dear, and we’ll try again.”
“I’ve been reading babies born with Down Syndrome can lead productive lives, dear.”
“I won’t stand for you delivering a freak of nature. Choose an immediate abortion or a divorce!”
Joanie’s decision to acquiesce to the abortion created a fracture in the marriage which led to divorce. She finished college earning a bachelor’s and master’s degree in social work determined to assist families and those afflicted with developmental disabilities.
*
Joanie motivated Victor to attend group meals by permitting him to bring along his TV. She collected broken transistor radios from sympathetic staff members which permitted Victor to return to a familiar, safe place within his mind, inside the privacy of her office. Victor trusted Joanie.
*
After months of their meal routine, Joanie was optimistic Victor could avoid permanent sedation when he agreed to leave behind the television underneath his bed when going to meals. One evening after dinner, Joanie escorted Victor to his ward. The television was on top of his bed and the knobs and rabbit ears were broken off accompanied by a perverse chorus of laughter and giggling from the boys inside the ward.
Victor screamed while rocking back and forth managing to break free from Joanies embrace. Three staff members subdued him with plans to administer a mind-numbing sedative. Joanie wrestled the syringe from the attendant. She held Victor tightly until he settled down.
Joanie tucked Victor into bed and sat beside him all evening. She recalled a small shop inside town, “Nakamura’s TV & Radio Repair”
*
Joanie obtained a day pass to have Victor accompany her to the repair shop. They carried the broken television inside the shop smelling of dust and warm metal cluttered with old TV sets and radios.
Kenji Nakamura was an old man with a pocket protector loaded with pens, pencils, and tiny screwdrivers. He flipped the television around, removed the back, and stared inside.
“It’s all vacuum tubes. Even if I could find the parts, the cost of repair is more than buying a refurbished set. For ten dollars, I’ll sell you a reconditioned set including a remote control.”
Kenji held Victor’s hand, guiding his forefinger to the blue button pressing the remote. The television jumped to life with a crystal-clear screen. Victor was mesmerized by the ability to command the television.
“You’re holding a magic wand.”
Kenji leaned into Joanie and whispered, “Why don’t you buy it for the kid and take it with you?”
“I have a plan in mind which might be breakthrough therapy for Victor.”
*
Victor collected pop bottles from every trash can and sometimes absconding with half-filled soda pop bottles he found on desks. Staff members collected bottles from home and placed them inside a collection drum within Joanie’s office. Victor’s daily collection showed a work ethic with a goal in mind which impressed Joanie and Doctor Spencer.
*
After months of collecting bottles, Victor placed a soda pop bottle inside the collection drum. He pointed to a ten-dollar bill Joanie taped to the bottle collection drum reminding him of the monetary goal.
“You’ve collected five hundred bottles according to my tally. Let me hold your forefinger to the calculator. Let’s press five, zero, zero. What is the price paid for each bottle, Victor?”
Victor practiced tracing the number two and cent sign for weeks and traced the number and cent symbol with his finger in the air.
“Let’s press the letter ‘X’ which will multiply ‘500’ by two cents.”
Joanie held Victor’s forefinger to the calculator’s equal sign. “10.00” glowed in red. He ran to the ten-dollar bill taped to the collection drum, tore it off, and proudly handed it to Joanie. Victor tugged on Mrs. Greenstreet’s arm as a non-verbal signal to immediately leave for Kenji’s shop to purchase the television set.
*
Kenji proudly handed Victor the television.
“Why are packing boxes strewn about?”
“I’m retiring because transistors have put me out of business.”
He handed Victor a tattered and faded blue three-ring binder.
“These are my notes including everything I learned in the Army Signal Corps and repairing TV’s and radios for twenty years. I want you to have it.”
Victor opened it carefully as if understanding it contained magic. The pages were filled with precise pencil drawings including circuits, pathways, and transistors including handwritten notes. Victor studied the first diagram, and his breathing changed, catching Kenji’s attention.
Victor’s finger lifted and hovered above the paper before touching, following and tracing the circuits pathway. His finger shifted slightly and to a different point and found a shorter path and tapped it once. Victor looked towards Kenji as if speaking in a non-verbal communique only the two would understand. Kenji felt something stir in his gut.
Victor placed his finger in the air sketching an invisible correction knowing he mastered an improvement to the diagram. Kenji wrote on the page what Victor was inscribing in the air with his finger pencil.
“Is this what you see?”
Victor traced the path with his finger on Kenji’s diagram. He tapped it once. Kenji understood Victor was not reading the circuits like a map but inventing shortcuts for the pathways allowing the signal to flow quickly and flawlessly.
“Victor knows the signal’s destination and devised a better way for it to arrive. I hit a wall with my intellect, but Victor doesn’t see a wall. He intuitively devises pathways over, under, and around my wall. Permit him to study the binder, Joanie.”
“You believe he understands it?”
“I believe he understands what it wants to become.”
Joanie carefully turned the pages finding detailed handwritten drawings of electronic circuitry including images of tiny boxes with legs resembling metal insects.
“What are these images, Kenji?”
“Tiny transistors replacing vacuum tubes and the future of electronics.”
“Are you certain you want to part with your life’s study?”
“I’m not parting but handing the baton off to a new generation who will usher electronics into the future.”
*
Joanie set up a desk, lamp, and chair inside her office for Victor to study. Joanie watched as Victor sketched transistors and circuits. Kenji’s binder began to fill with pages of original study intuitively devised as if constructing the triangular figures he adorned with radio components. Kenji organised his study as if he were providing Victor with a light to follow discovering new pathways Victor would provide to the signal.
Victor watched television with the binder open on his lap. The screen glowed, and so did the pages of the tattered blue binder. Nobody except Victor knew there were two signals inside; a signal guiding him through the world as it was, and the other signal showing him what the future of the world could become.
Joanie invited Doctor Spencer to review the blue binder with her. He turned each page with fascination.
“A TV repairman and Victor put this together?”
“The original work was a gift from Kenji Nakamura to Victor, but the newest pages are Victor’s original scholarship.”
“I developed a rudimentary knowledge of electronics by reading Popular Electronics as a young man. The original scholarship resembles a ‘paint by numbers’ directional guide for Victor to follow. Victor owns this?”
“Yes.”
“Small computer companies are sprouting up which will change the world. They’ll want a peek at this work but, before they do, I want to consult with a patent attorney.”
*
Victor and Joanie sat as the attorney explained the importance of protecting the blue binder with patent applications. Victor was distracted mimicking the finger gestures of a secretary striking the keys of a typewriter.
“I’ve prepared a retainer agreement but given Victor’s diminished mental acuity, he’ll require a guardian’s signature.”
“Doctor Spencer will sign.”
“I’m also preparing a trust for the benefit of Victor.”
“Why is that necessary?”
“Stand by and find out, Joanie.”
*
Vigorous attempts to locate Kenji led to an obituary about his burial at Arlington National Cemetery.
Negotiations for purchasing the blue binder followed quickly after filing the patent applications with the potential sale price reaching into the millions of dollars.
“If Victor will agree to sell the blue binder, he can build a home suitable for his special needs with round the clock care and retain a sizable estate for himself.”
“You must make Victor understand the value of his intellectual property or in time, others may improve upon Victor’s innovations, and the blue binder will become worthless.
*
Money meant nothing to Victor because his world didn’t comprehend what it could buy, control, or influence. Victor refused to look at renditions of new homes because the small bed inside the ward with his black and white remote-controlled television was home.
Joanie never attempted to influence Victor to sell the blue binder. She made gentle suggestions as though placing electronic components on a workbench and trusting his hands to assemble them. She hit a nerve when she mentioned,
“…kindness is its own reward like a gift from Kenji to you of the blue binder allowing you to carry on his study.”
Victor understood Joanie that meant the signal’s pathway design was finally completed. Kenji provided him with a compass to follow along transistor trail, and Victor understood currents moving through copper also move through people. He knew currents went where it was guided, and money was a current. Victor found the inspiration to provide others with the happiness he found inside a smiling electronic triangle built with components.
*
Doctor Spencer retired from Junction State Hospital and devoted his retirement years to pioneering the burgeoning field of neuroscience. Doctor Spencer made a visit to Victor before leaving the hospital forever. He came upon Victor sitting with Joanie as he designed improved pathways inside the blue binder.
“I’ve spent my medical career learning how signals move through the brain and become interrupted requiring people to live inside Junction State Hospital. Big electronic boxes called ‘computers’ are helping us to understand why pathways become distorted and the signals are lost inside the brain. Your blue binder can help us build smarter computers and show us how to repair twisted pathways and confused signals.”
Victor turned his attention back into the pages of the binder not noticing Doctor Spencer and Joanie had left the ward. Doctor Spencer left behind a framed photograph of himself, Victor, and Joanie, taken not long after Victor arrived at the hospital. The photo was a reminder of the first day he didn’t feel alone but happy like the smiling triangle wearing a hat.
*
Joanie returned to her office from morning rounds to find the blue binder on her chair with a smiling component triangle inscribed with a letter, “I”. Doctor Spencer explained the notation was an engineering abbreviation for the term “sustained current”.
*
Joanie retired but Victor remained enjoying quiet happiness watching his television illuminating darkness. The framed photograph of Joanie, Dr. Spencer, and himself was hung near his bed. On his nightstand, a vacuum tube gifted to him by Kenji remained reminding Victor that it once provided the glow behind a television screen creating light, but now, he felt like he gifted the same glow creating light to others made possible by the advances within neuroscience leaping from the pages of the blue binder.
*
Institutions like Junction State Hospital were replaced with group homes providing home-like environments and patients transferred elsewhere. Victor didn’t moan the loss of familiar people because he lived within the circuitry of his mind where the signals resembling Joanie’s quiet voice and Kenji’s patient hands remained.
Victor was the last to be buried within the hospital cemetery. Junction State Hospital was replaced by a new state college. The neuroscience institute created a scholarship for underprivileged students studying electrical engineering named, The Blue Binder Scholarship.
Although the hospital was forgotten, Victor remained broadcasting a signal comprised of memories including love passing like currents between human beings.
Victor Kline
1958–2014
He could not live in the world as it was,
so he quietly helped build the one that came next.
Jonathan Ferrini is the author of nearly one hundred short stories and poems. He is the host and writer of the weekly “The Razor’s Ink Podcast” where he discusses movies, television, and music. A partial collection of Jonathan’s short stories has been published within Hearts Without Sleeves Twenty-Three Stories (available at Amazon). Jonathan received his MFA in motion picture and television at UCLA. He resides in San Diego, California.
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