Lucky Caller(19)

“Why would a toilet make it sound like that?” Sasha had asked, baffled.) I clicked on the panel for that particular PSA. Nothing came on.

“So all we can do is broadcast live?” Joydeep looked panicked. “What are we supposed to do? I can’t talk the whole time!”

“I don’t know. Just get back on the air for now, and we’ll try to figure it out,” Jamie said.

Joydeep got back on while we inspected the cables and wires at the back of the board and checked the computer.

“Should we restart it?” Jamie mouthed to me, and I shrugged. Meanwhile, Joydeep continued: “So to expand on the thing I said before, drinking and driving is terrible. If you’re gonna drink, go ahead and do that, but don’t plan to drive afterward, because that is just. Irresponsible. Drink responsibly. Or don’t drink. That is up to you. That’s a life choice. Me? I don’t. Because it would be illegal. And you know me. Joydeep Mitra. A man of the law. And this man of the law … is hopefully going to have a song for you on the air … very soon. A song from the year 1992. Or really, at this point, a song from any era. Just some cool, good music. Coming at you. From our studio. Out … into the environment…”

He started signaling to me somewhat desperately, a How long do I have to keep this up for? kind of look on his face.

Sasha noticed and mouthed “WEATHER” to him, holding up her phone.

“And in the meantime…” Joydeep scrunched up his face. “Wet Thorpe?”

“Noooooo,” Sasha whispered, waving her arms frantically.

“In the meantime, enjoy the silence and we’ll be right back.” Joydeep pushed his mic away, and I scrambled for the mic control as he said, “What the fuck is Wet Thorpe?”

It was definitely broadcast.

“Oh my god, Joydeep,” Jamie exclaimed as Sasha shouted, “WEATHER!” and then my fingers finally found the button.

It was not looking good for us.





13.


IT WAS NO SHOCK WHEN we were called to stay after class on Friday.

Mr. Tucker sat on the edge of his desk. A chant of No! Dead! Air! played on a loop in my mind, fueled by anxiety and the sober expression on Mr. Tucker’s face. His voice was measured when he spoke: “So. About your last show…”

Our solution to the music problem hadn’t been particularly elegant. We were too afraid to turn the system off and then back on again in case we messed up something even more spectacularly. So basically, we just played through the playlist and did the links like usual, as if the music was actually being broadcast. As if we weren’t violating No Dead Air at all.

Nobody’s listening anyway, Joydeep had said, and he was right. The counter fluctuated between one and zero most of the night—it topped out at two for a moment there and then dipped back down when whoever it was realized that between Joydeep’s lengthier-than-usual links and PSAs, there was absolutely nothing being broadcast.

“You actually listen to the shows?” Joydeep asked.

“Everything’s archived, remember?” Mr. Tucker said gently.

“Yeah, but that’s like … sixteen hours of radio a week.”

“Fifteen,” he corrected. “We’ve got the talk show, remember?”

“How could I forget Cat Chat?” Joydeep said blandly, and I shot him a look.

Mr. Tucker didn’t acknowledge it, just continued: “I will admit, I do fast-forward through the music a lot of the time, but I try to listen to at least a couple links for each show, your intros and sign-offs. You know, during my commute, at the gym and stuff, it fills up the time. And I like hearing you guys. Plus I need to be able to give you feedback, right?”

We all nodded.

“So about your show last night. It seemed like there were some … technical difficulties?”

“We’re sorry,” Jamie jumped in. “There was a problem with the music. It was my fault.” It patently wasn’t. “We tried to fix it, but we couldn’t figure it out.”

“I went ahead and restarted the system this morning, checked the equipment and the software, and everything seemed to be in order, so it seems like something that got resolved by the restart. We’re broadcasting fine now. But if something like this happens again, I want you guys to shoot me an email as soon as you know that something’s not right with the equipment. I know there’s no one on after you guys, so you have the responsibility of closing up shop for the night. And that includes letting me or someone else at the station know if things aren’t running correctly.”

We all nodded.

“Definitely,” Jamie said. “We will. We’re sorry.”

And I thought maybe that would be it, until Mr. Tucker spoke again, a wry expression on his face.

“And about the language…”

“It won’t happen again,” Joydeep said quickly. “Scout’s honor.”

Mr. Tucker nodded and then dismissed us.

Joydeep let out a breath when we got in the hallway. “Good thing I’m not a Boy Scout.”





14.


I FOLLOWED JAMIE WHILE SASHA and Joydeep headed their separate ways. It seemed like we were making a habit of this.

“I didn’t need you to cover for me.”