Something Will Turn Up

  Produced by Greg Weeks, Geetu Melwani and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  * * * * *

  Transcriber note: This etext was produced from Analog February 1963.Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyrighton this publication was renewed.

  * * * * *

  SomethingWill Turn Up

  byDavid Mason

  Err ... maybe it had to do with this being a non-Parity universe, perhaps? Some things can't be simply inverted, after all....

  Illustrated by Brotman

  "You, Mr. Rapp?"

  Stanley Rapp blinked, considering the matter. He always thought overeverything very carefully. Of course, some questions were easier toanswer than others. This one, for instance. He had very few doubts abouthis name.

  "Uh," Stanley Rapp said. "Yes. Yes."

  He stared at the bearded young man. Living in the Village, even on thebetter side of it, one saw beards every day, all shapes and sizes ofbeard. This one was not a psychoanalyst beard, or a folk singer beard;not even an actor beard. This was the scraggly variety, almost certainlya poet beard. Mr. Rapp, while holding no particular prejudice againstpoets, had not sent for one, he was sure of that.

  Then he noticed the toolcase in the bearded young man's hand, letteredlarge LIGHTNING SERVICE, TV, HI-FI.

  "Oh," Stanley said, nodding. "You're the man to fix the TV set."

  "You know it, Dad," the young man said, coming in. He shut the doorbehind him, and stared around the apartment. "What a wild pad. Where theidiot box, hey?"

  The pleasantly furnished, neat little apartment was not what Mr. Rapphad ever thought of as a "wild pad." But the Village had odd standards,Mr. Rapp knew. Chacun a son gout, he had said, on moving into theapartment ten years ago. Not aloud, of course, because he had only takenone year of French, and would never have trusted his accent. But chacuna son gout, anyway.

  "The television set," Mr. Rapp said, translating. "Oh, yes." He went tothe closet door and opened it. Reaching inside, he brought out animposingly large TV set, mounted on a wheeled table. The beardedrepairman whistled.

  "In the closet," the repairman said, admiringly. "Crazy. You go in thereto watch it, or you let it talk to itself?"

  "Oh. Well, I don't exactly watch it at all," Mr. Rapp said, a littlesadly. "I mean, I can't. That's why I called you."

  "Lightning's here, have no fear," the bearded one said, approaching theset with a professional air. "Like, in the closet, hey." He bent overthe set, appraisingly. "I thought you were a square, Pops, but I can seeyou're.... Hey, this is like too much. Man, I don't want to pry, but whyis this box upside down?"

  "I wish I knew," Mr. Rapp said. He sat down, and leaned back, sighing.This was going to be difficult, he knew. He had already had to explainit to the last three repairmen, and he was getting tired of explaining.Although he thought, somehow, that this young man might understand it alittle more quickly than the others had.

  "I've had a couple of other repairmen look it over," Mr. Rapp told thebearded one. "They ... well, they gave up."

  "Dilettantes," commented the beard.

  "Oh, no," Mr. Rapp said. "One of them was from the company that made it.But they couldn't do anything."

  "Let's try it," the repairman said, plugging the cord into a wallsocket. He returned to the set, and switched it on, without changingits upside down position. The big screen lit almost at once; a painedface appeared, with a large silhouetted hammer striking the image'sforehead in a rhythmic beat.

  "... Immediate relief from headache," a bland voice said, as thepictured face broke into a broad smile. The repairman shuddered, andturned down the sound, staring at the image with widened eyes as he didso.

  "Dad, I don't want to bug you," the repairman said, his eyes still onthe screen, "only, look. The set is upside down, right?"

  "Right," said Mr. Rapp.

  "Only the picture--" the repairman paused, trying to find the rightphrase. "I mean, the picture's flipped. Like, it's wrong side up, too.Only, right side up, now."

  "Exactly," said Mr. Rapp. "You see, that's the trouble. I put the setupside down because of that."

  "Cool," the repairman said, watching the picture. "I mean, so why worry?You got a picture, right? You want me to turn the picture around? I cando that with a little fiddling around inside the set ... uh-oh. Dad,something's happening."

  * * * * *

  The repairman bent closer, staring at the picture. It was now showing abusty young woman singer, her mouth opened, but silent, since the soundwas turned down. She was slowly rotating as Rapp and the beardedrepairman watched, turning until her face, still mouthing silent song,hung upside down on the screen.

  "It always does that," Rapp said. "No matter which way I put the set,the picture's always upside down."

  "No, man," the repairman said, pleadingly. "Look, I took a course. Imean, the best school, you dig? It don't work that way. It just can't."

  "It does, though," Rapp pointed out. "And that's what the other repairpeople said, too. They took it out, and brought it back, and it stilldid it. Not when they had it in their shops, but the minute it came backhere, the picture went upside down again."

  "Wow," the repairman said, backing slowly away from the set, butwatching it with the tense gaze of a man who expected trouble. After aminute he moved toward it again, and took hold of the cabinet sides,lifting.

  "I don't want to put you down, Pops," he said, grunting. "Only, I got tosee this. Over she goes." He set it down again, right side up. Thepicture, still the singer's face, remained in a relatively uprightposition for another moment, and then slowly rolled over, upside downagain.

  "You see," Mr. Rapp said, shrugging. "I guess I'll have to buy anotherset. Except I'd hate to have it happen again, and this one did costquite a lot."

  "You couldn't trade it in, either," the repairman agreed. "Not to me,anyway." Suddenly he snapped his fingers. "Hey now. Sideways?"

  "You mean on its side?"

  "Just for kicks...." the repairman gripped the set again. "On theside...." He set the cabinet down, on one side, and stepped back, toregard the picture again.

  Slowly, the picture turned once more, and once again, relative to theusual directions of up and down, the picture was stubbornly, completelyinverted.

  "It's onto that, too," the repairman said, gloomily. He sat down on thefloor, and assumed a kind of Yoga posture, peering between his legs."You could try it this way, Pops."

  "I'm pretty stiff," Mr. Rapp told him, shaking his head.

  "Yeah," the repairman said, reinverting himself. For a long while hesat, pulling his beard thoughtfully, a look of deep thought on his face.The reversed singer faded out, to give place to an earnestly grinningannouncer who pointed emphatically to a large, upside down sign bearingthe name of a product.

  "Watching it this way could get to be a fad," the repairman said, atlast, almost inaudibly. He fell silent again, and Mr. Rapp, sadly, beganto realize that even this bearded and confident young man had apparentlybeen stopped, like the others.

  "The way I look at it, like, there's a place where science hangs up,"the bearded one spoke, finally.

  "Like, I don't want to put down my old Guru at the Second Avenue Schoolof Electronics," he added, solemnly. "But you got to admit that thereare things not dreamed of in your philosophy, Horatio. You dig?"

  "My name isn't Horatio," Mr. Rapp objected.

  "I was quoting," the repairman told him. "I mean, this is a thing like,outside material means. Supernatural, sort of. Did you cross up anywitches lately, Pops?"

  "Oh, dear," Mr. Rapp said sadly. He shook his head. "No, I haven
't ...er, offended any witches. Not that I know of." He regarded the invertedpicture for a moment. Then, as the repairman's words began to sink in,Mr. Rapp looked at him apprehensively.

  "Witches?" Mr. Rapp asked. "But ... I mean, that's all superstition,isn't it? And anyway ... well, television sets!"

  "They used to dry up cows, but who keeps cows?" the bearded one saidominously. "Why not television sets? Like, I happen to be personallyacquainted with several witches and like that. The Village is full ofthem. However--" He rose, and stalked toward the set, his eyesglittering in a peculiar way. "You're a lucky one, Daddyo. Back in mysquare days, I did some reading up on the hookups between poetry andmagic. Now, I'm a poet. Therefore, and to wit, I'm also a magician. Onthis hangup, I'm going to try magic. Electronics won't work, that's forsure."

  * * * * *

  "But...." Mr. Rapp was not quite sure why he disapproved, but he did. Onthe other hand, the repairman appeared to be very definitely sure ofwhat he was doing, as he peered into the back of the television set.

  "Have you ever tried ... ah, this method before?"

  "Never ran into any hexed TV sets before," the repairman said,straightening up. "Don't worry, though. I got the touch, like withpoetry. Same thing, in fact. All magic spells rhyme, see? Well, I usedto rhyme, back before I really started swinging. Anybody can rhyme. Andthe rest is just instinct."

  He had been scribbling something on a notepad, as he spoke. Now he bentdown, to take another look at the back of the set, and nodded with anair of assurance.

  "The tube layout," the repairman told Mr. Rapp, exhibiting his notebook."That, and Ohm's Law, and a couple of Hindu bits I picked up listeningto the UN on the radio ... makes a first-class spell."

  Mr. Rapp backed away, nervously. "Look, if it's all the same to you...."

  "Don't flip." The repairman consulted his notebook, and moved to standin front of the screen. The picture showed a smiling newscaster,pointing to a map which indicated something ominous.

  "Cool, man," the repairman said. "Here we go." He lifted his hands in anecclesiastical gesture, and his voice became a deep boom.

  "6SN7, 6ac5, six and seven millivolts are running down the line, Eequals R times A, that's the way it goes, go round the other way, SubhasChandra BOSE!"

  Afterward, Mr. Rapp was never quite sure exactly what happened. He hadan impression of a flash of light, and an odd, indefinite sound ratherlike the dropping of a cosmic garbage can lid. But possibly neither thelight nor the sound actually happened; at any rate, there were nocomplaints from the neighbors later on. However, the lighted screen wascertainly doing something.

  "Crazy!" the repairman said, in awed tones.

  Mr. Rapp, his view partly blocked by the repairman, could not seeexactly what was happening on the screen. However, he caught a briefglimpse of the newscaster's face. It was right side up, but no longersmiling. Instead, the pictured face wore a look of profound alarm, andthe newsman was apparently leaning far forward, his face almost out offocus because of its nearness to the lens. Just for a moment, Mr. Rappcould have sworn he saw a chair floating _up_, past the agonizedexpression on the screen.

  Then the screen want gray, and a panel of lettering appeared, shakingslightly.

  OUR PICTURE HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY INTERRUPTED. NORMAL SERVICE WILL BERESTORED AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. PLEASE STAND BY.

  "I was going to give you a bill," the repairman said. "Only maybe webetter just charge it up to customer relations."

  The letters remained steady on the screen, and Mr. Rapp studied them.They were right side up.

  "You fixed it," Mr. Rapp said, a little uncertainly. "I mean, it'sworking. I ought to pay...."

  "I goofed," the repairman said. He picked up his tools, and moved towardthe door. "Like, I won't mention it to anybody if you won't. But Igoofed, all right. Didn't you see the picture?"

  "But whatever you did ... it worked," Mr. Rapp said. "The picture'sright side up."

  "I know," the repairman said. "Only somewhere ... there's a studiothat's upside down. I just goofed, Pops, that's all."

  He closed the door behind him, leaving Mr. Rapp still staring at theimmobile, right-side-up message on the glowing screen.

  The End.