Chapter 3

Connor had been on the road for almost three weeks, eighteen days to be exact. He like marking off the days, it was something he had started to do while he was in the Sand Box.

~~

A fresh faced boy who didn’t even have sand between his toes yet looked past Connor, who he had been introduced to as Red, at the check marks drawn in sets of five on the wall beside his cot.

“Keeping track of the days?” he asked unnecessarily.

Only flicking his eyes as he lay back on his cot trying to grab a bit of well-earned rest before the next patrol, Connor took in the wall of haphazardly drawn marks, then the newbi.

“I’m seeing the silence at night,” he told him as he watched for some sign of recognition. The boys face remained blank, maybe a little confused. He didn’t get the reference, not like his Aunty Joey, who was a huge Dr Who fan, would.

A lot of the guys liked to have fun at the expense of the fresh faced newbies, but Connor had been taught that what goes around, comes around, and he wanted to break the cycle. That, and he wanted to go home.

~~

Now he marked them off in a note book, something he could take with him where ever he went. Neither the hospital nor his mother were very happy at finding marks on the walls. By the time he had been shipped home putting the marks on the wall had become almost a compulsion, something that would keep him safe. And look, it did, he survived where his two friends did not. In the logical part of his brain he knew that continuing to make the marks did nothing to help him, but deep down he felt he had too, just in case.

This was why he knew without a doubt that he had been on the road for eighteen days as he drove into another small town. He had glanced at the name on the sign as he past, Ulysses, but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember which state he was in.

He drove down the main street which was probably named “Main St”. They mostly were in towns this size. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, he just hoped he would know it when he saw it. A dinner came into view and right on cue his stomach growled reminding him it was time to eat. He scanned the street for a park spotting one a little way up the street. He pulled in and got out automatically looking at the shop front beside him. The window itself was painted over with a dark blue paint with words in white standing out starkly.

“KUNE 107.6FM

Music to move you through your day.”

He froze in the act of closing the door. Surely this must be a sign. In the marines he had been the communications annalist. Radio was what he had trained for at both collage and in the service. He scanned the street and smiled. His feet walked round the front of his truck and to the door without him consciously making the decision. He pushed it open to reveal a good sized room that looked to be a waiting room with a counter at one side. Behind a large window in the back wall he could see the DJ in his booth. The music coming over the internal speakers sounded like Deep Purple was playing, but Connor wasn’t up on the old heavy rock bands so he was just guessing. It wasn’t what he had been expecting of a country town but who was he to judge.

A man with shaggy brown hair greying at the temples and at least a two day growth looked up at him.

“Can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you had any jobs going.”

“What experience do you have?” he asked sounding somewhat distracted.

“I study radio in Collage and was….” The door slammed open startling them both. Two uniformed policemen looked at that man behind the counter.

“Vinnie Powers?” one of the uniforms asked.

The man pointed to the booth where the DJ now was looking somewhat panicked and trying to hide something. Fortunately a new song had just started so the public didn’t hear as the cops rushed in and grabbed the man cuffing him and retrieving a number of small baggies containing white powder.

As the cops dragged him out he yelled at Connor and the man. “They planted it on me, you saw it, they planted it on me!”

“Anything you say may be used in a court of law….” the uniform was saying as they headed back out onto the street where Connor was sure a patrol car was waiting.

The only sound was the music coming through the speakers, another heavy rock band screaming about girls rocking boys.

“You say you have experience? Now is your interview, get in there and cover the mic until I can get someone here.”

“What type of music?” Connor asked hoping he didn’t have to play or listen to more of the noise that was on currently.

“I don’t care, I just don’t want any dead air. Dead air and you are done, understand me?”

“Yes sir,” Connor said as he headed for the door. It closed automatically behind him and he sat down and put the recently abandoned headphones on.

He had just enough time to scan the equipment that looked to be very similar to what he had used back at the hospital where he helped run the in-house radio, something he would have informed his possible new boss if only he had been given the chance. All the music was stored digitally in the hard drive and all he had to do was chose it, cue it and hit play. He changed the genre which was set to Heavy metal bands of the 70’s and 80’s. The current song ended at last and Connor cued the mic so he could speak.

“Hello this is…. Tane here. I’m just sitting in for … your regular DJ who just had to step out for a moment,” he said making it up on the spot. “I’m not sure what you want to hear so maybe someone could give me a heads up. In the meantime here is a bit of country, Tim McGraw, If you’re reading this.” He pressed all the right keys and the song started to play. The gentle melody and caring words were a balm to his ears after the beating they had got from before. The song itself spoke to him but he tried not to let it affect him. Thinking of his lost friends would not help him just now. He looked out the window and saw the man nod with satisfaction at his choice. Moments later the studio phone lines lit up. Connor took the first call where the caller just wanted to know where the regular guy had gone. Connor told him he wasn’t sure, he hadn’t been told. It wasn’t his place to inform the general public. The next few callers told him to play anything but heavy rock.

By the time the first song was over he knew that if he stuck to country or pop music he would be ok. When he spoke he told them that they had a lovely town and lived in a beautiful part of the country. A sticker on the back board of the desk unit told him he was in “Kansas, as big as you think.” and the station call sign so he was able to drop it into the chatter every now and again.

He kept expecting a regular DJ to turn up and take over from him, but ten minutes stretched to thirty which stretched to an hour, then two. He had motioned to the station manager that he needed a drink and had been bought a cup of over brewed black coffee. He drank it without complaint, and kept spinning out the music. Finally the front door opened and another man wearing a dusty cowboy hat, blue jeans and well worn cowboy boots walked in. He stopped to talk to the manager for a bit then at the start of a new song he pushed open the door of the sound booth.

“Hey there, I’m Duggy,” he said holding out his hand to shake. Connor took it and noted the man had a good solid grip.

“Connor,” he replied gripping his hand right back.

“I hear you were thrown in the deep end, seemed you floated ok.”

“Thanks, it was fun, and by the way, what is the usual music that is played here?”

“Anything and everything, although we had received some complaints about heavy metal in the mornings, I’m sure the good folks around these here parts appreciated your play list.”

“Good to know,” Connor said up out of the hot seat and moving around Duggy. He had hardly stepped out when the music ended and Duggy started saying his good mornings and thanking the new boy for helping out when they were in a bind.

Connor looked up at the station manager.

“Good work. Your shift it the morning one, 6am till 10am. Pay is standard and I want you to sign a form stating that you will not do anything to bring ill repute to the name of the station, no drugs!”

“You are giving me the job?”

“You did good kid, just do what you were this morning and you will be a big hit. Now you need to do the usual paperwork,” he said putting an employment contract down in front of him.

Connor began to fill it in quickly then looked up. “I’m new in town, can you suggest somewhere I can lay my head at night?”

The man sucked his teeth for a moment as he thought about his answer. “Miss Anne’s boarding house, she will have room for you. Oh and come in early tomorrow for a bit of training, seems people missed hearing the news on the hour today. Some folks set their time by it and a quarter past upset them some what.” As he spoke he drew a quick map showing where to find the aforementioned boarding house.

Connor handed back the now completed forms. “I didn’t catch your name before.”

“Arthur McDonald and you are….” He looked down at the forms.

“Connor O’Reilly, Tane on the air, it’s my middle name.”

“Welcome aboard Connor O’Reilly, known as Tane. Your discretion on the whole - Vinny incident would be most appreciated,” Arthur said as he shook Connors hand.

“Of course, I’ll stick with saying I don’t know what happened with him.”

As Connor stepped back out onto the street he was wearing a smile, and felt hopeful, something he hadn’t felt in quite a while. He also felt ravenous. He had been hungry two hours ago, and all he had managed to get was a couple of cups of that strong over cooked coffee.