Randy is a crack baby. At 6 years of age, he is not able to speak but instead communicates through grunts and high pitched squeals or by directly pointing at something. At least we all assumed this was his mode of communication. One day Randy wanted to be pushed in the swing in our backyard, and since I had some time to kill before heading off to work, I decided to hoist him up on the blue plastic seat and strap him in. I had an old iPod nano on me that I used for my long list of songs from Pandora. I synced it up to my Bluetooth and let the music run while I pushed Randy back and forth on the swing. My playlist was from the late 60’s and ’70s; just the sweet fun stuff. After a while, I noticed that the music began to have an unusual effect on Randy. He wasn’t kicking or screaming or screeching; he was relaxed and calm. The Turtles and the Byrds and the Monkees had some sort of effect on him. An hour later, when it was time to get off the swing, he pointed to my iPod nano, and I thought, “Why not?”
“You like music, Randy?” I asked.
He squealed and smiled as he pointed toward the device. I handed it to him and carried him to the house. Placing the blue tooth speaker on the kitchen table, I mentioned to my mother in law about what just happened.
“Randy really likes the music, It just makes him chill. I’m gonna let him have it if that’s okay?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s really nice of you,” she smiled.
“Just make sure he doesn’t wreck it,” I replied.
I gave Randy a big hug good-bye and took off. A week later, my mother in law calls me and says very calmly, “You have to come over and see this,”
“Sure,” I said. “Is everything okay?”
“Just come over,” she answered.
….
I was there in less than forty minutes, and my mother in law was already waiting in the front driveway.
“In the backyard,” she pointed.
A thousand things were going through my mind as I followed my mother in law to the place where I saw Randy sitting in his swing chair just as calm as you please. He had the iPod nano in his hand, and the blue tooth speaker sat silently on the little plastic play table.
“Randy,” my mother in law, asked. “Are you happy?”
He looked at my mother in law and pressed something on the iPod, and the song from the Turtles began to play, “Happy Together.”
I looked at her and shrugged my shoulders, but she held her finger up and mouthed the words, “Wait,”
“Randy,” she began. “Do you believe in God?”
He presses something on the iPod again, and a Monkees song plays on the Bluetooth, “I’m A Believer,”
Before I can react, she’s already asking him another question, “Randy, cousin Kara is 17. When was she born?”
Randy presses a button and Prince comes on, “1999,”
Now I’m scared and thrilled at the same time but mostly afraid. I’m not entirely sure about what it is that’s going on, but my mother in law is on a roll.
“Randy, are there ghosts in our house?” She asks.
He presses a button, and the song, “Roundabout,” plays.
“That’s Roundabout,” I tell my mother in law. “That doesn’t make sense?”
“For Randy, it does; think about it. What group sings that song?” She asks.
When the answer hits me, I’m entirely floored but more blown away.
“Yes,” I whisper. “What the hell is going on?”
“Wait,” she says. “One more question,” she looks at Randy and takes a deep breath. Tears begin to fall from her eyes.
“Randy? When is Mama going to die?”
Suddenly, serenading guitars strum over the Bluetooth, and it plays, “Yesterday.”
Again, it makes no sense, but my mother in law can’t stop crying at this point, and I try to assure her that it’s alright, and the songs really don’t mean anything. She points to the trunk of the tree where the swing is hanging from, and I see bare feet. I walk over, and there’s my mother in law’s body. She’s deathly pale, and there are flies all over her. I turned to her, and her ghost disappeared right in front of me. Randy is just sitting there looking intently at his iPod nano.
“Help!” Blares out on the Bluetooth and it makes me jump, it’s too much for me to comprehend. The ambulance shows up along with the police, and they take my statement. Randy seemed to be oblivious to everything and was only focused on his magic music maker. A few hours later we’re driving on the H-3, and the rain is heavy, it’s hard to see the road. We get through the tunnel, and soon, I’m taking the off-ramp curve into Kane’ohe when, “Dead Man’s Curve,” comes on. My Dodge takes a skid and begins to spin uncontrollably. It hits the guardrail and totals the front end; I’m shaken up. The first thing I do is check on Randy, and he is completely unfazed. He looks at me thoughtfully and presses a button; the car radio comes to life and plays,
“Didn’t I blow your mind this time?" By The Delfonics.”
…..........
I’m sitting here right now at a transient hotel by the airport. I’ve taken away the iPod and destroyed it along with the Bluetooth. I can’t let Randy get near any kind of electronic device because somehow he's able to use it to communicate his thoughts, but his ideas aren’t lovely thoughts. It’s diabolical. Being a crack baby, he may have been short-changed a few skills, but he possesses other skills that are off the needle. He can’t be with people; he’ll kill them with his music. Until I figure something out, I have to keep him here. Wish me luck.
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