The phonograph

- “Nobody loves me." Jerry whined to the bartender, a story the man had heard countless times throughout his career.

-"How about another drink?" the experienced bartender winked. Jerry pulled his wallet out of his pocket and looked at the scant contents, shrugged, and said, "Why not?"

-"Sure friend." the bartender said.

-"You can call me friend, even if you don't mean it. I am nobody's friend. Nobody loves me."

Jerry was a handsome young man, with a rather hazy look in his blue eyes. He raised the glass to his lips as if to test the drink.

-"I'm lonely and everyone hates me." Jerry whimpered to himself.

-"Don´t you have a girlfriend?" Wrong question the bartender thought when he heard those words come out of his own mouth.

-"She iced me." Jerry said dryly. "That's a nice phonograph."

The bartender burst out laughing.

-"Dude, nowadays we call that a jukebox."

Jerry walked to it, patted the sides, and draped himself over the jukebox. He felt an affection for the object arise. Jerry hurriedly fumbled for change in his pocket and put a nickel in the coin lever.

I need sound he thought. It is way too quiet here. He pushed the coin lever on the jukebox all the way in. Nothing happened. A dark stocky man who had been sitting in a corner came to Jerry:

-"Do you need a helping hand?" he asked.

A tingling sensation ran through Jerry.

-"Helping hand." Jerry repeated vaguely.

The room started spinning. Jerry took his drink from the jukebox and swallowed the liquid in three quick gulps.

That can't be, he thought to himself. I'm not drunk yet. A quarter rolled out of the coin slot and Jerry automatically caught it. He held his glass with a drowning man's grip and walked to the bar.

-"Jerry." said a woman's voice, "Please."

He ignored her, continued to the bar, and ordered another drink.

-"I don't think that JUKE BOX works," he said with an exaggerated emphasis on the jukebox. The bartender was squeezing limes.

-"I haven't heard any complaints about it yet." he said without looking up.

"But..." Jerry suggested but kept quiet as the bartender shoved a refilled glass in Jerry's direction and walked over to the jukebox to check it out.

-"You have to be elastic to survive in a changing culture." Jerry booed to no one in particular. "It's a big mistake that I was born in this day and age. I should have lived in the 1920s. I would have made it big back then. I need a sense of solid ground under my feet. And the ground is anything but solid for me today.”

Jerry was out of a job, heavily in debt, and drinking too much. The alcohol running through his veins buffered the belief that the jukebox was affectionate toward him. Not that it mattered much. The next morning, he probably wouldn't remember anything anyway. He never remembered anything in the morning.

A few days ago, a friend had come to him and loaned him a thousand dollars. Jerry instantly went on a binge, and now found himself in a bar he didn't recognize at all. He was tanked and staring at the jukebox. That thing just kept blinking at him. It even started to form words.

-"What?" Jerry asked.

-"Did you say anything?" an unshaven man sitting next to Jerry asked.

-"What?" Jerry repeated.

-"You said something, I heard you." the man said gruffly, spilling his drink.

-"April." mumbled Jerry.

-"What are you talking about?" the man growled, "We're June."

Jerry looked around hazy.

-"June?" Jerry repeated, "Then it's time for me to go back. One more drink!" he called to the bartender, rubbing his cheeks. He was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a man with an ax. Jerry looked at the figure.

-"I think it's time for me to find another gin mill." he muttered.

The thin blond man had burst in from the street. He seemed to have the shakes. The man ran to the jukebox and menacingly held his ax over it. The bartender came rushing from behind the bar.

-"I´ll fix you" the man cried hysterically. "I´ll fix you!" The man ignored the bartender who had come closer. He lowered his ax heavily on the jukebox. There was a ripping sound and there were blue flames crackling. The blond man collapsed silently.

Jerry stayed where he was. There was a bottle next to him on the bar, and he took it. He only vaguely realized what was going on. There happened to be a doctor in the bar, and he yelled for someone to call an ambulance. The man was still alive, and the jukebox only had a broken panel. Jerry surreptitiously poured himself a glass from the bottle he had stolen.

-"Everyone kills the thing he loves." Jerry heard someone say to him.

-"W What?" he asked.

The man who had said that nodded at the motionless man who was being loaded onto the stretcher.

-"That guy used to come in here to play with that jukebox. I think he was in love with that thing." said the man, "I walked in here a few days ago, and that fool was on his knees in front of that jukebox. He was begging that thing to forgive him. Some people shouldn't drink."

The paramedics rolled out the stretcher.

-"Just an electric shock." the bartender said who had returned behind the bar. "He'll be fine."

Jerry walked back to the jukebox and studied the gramophone through the window. The bartender came to stand next to him and took notes of the broken panel. The unshaved man also walked over to the jukebox and said something to Jerry.

-"What?" Jerry asked.

-"You are a liar." the man repeated what he had said. Jimmy pushed him away. The jukebox suddenly started playing: Eliminate the negative! The song hit Jerry like a lightning strike.

"Okay, “the unshaven man said, "I'd better go home. I can't stand disagreements. I just want yes men around me, men who eliminate the negative."

Jerry got a vague feeling that the jukebox was helping him. It was more of a conjecture. Actually, he didn't believe in such things. The jukebox still played the same song. Jerry had never heard it before: eliminate the negative. It seemed no one else heard it. He had to find someone who could write down the notes for him. He studied the jukebox more closely, knocked gently on the glass, and walked away.

-"Maybe I can help you with something?" Jerry heard a female voice say.

-"Me? No thanks." Jerry replied. The woman stared at Jerry intently. The next thing Jerry realized he was driving around in the dark with that young woman beside him. They talked about life and music.

-"I'm going somewhere." Jerry said. "We're going somewhere together." He parked the car next to a telephone pole and kissed her.

"We need another drink." Jerry said, "Isn't that a bar over there?"

The night went on, he loved having that woman in his arms, kissing her, and feeling her hair brush against his cheek. Everything turned rosy. Through the pink mist, he suddenly saw another face: the bartender.

-"Same?" he asked.

Jerry blinked. He was sitting in a booth in the bar, with that woman next to him. He had put an arm around her, and he thought he had just kissed her.

-"How long have we been here?" he asked.

-"About an hour." she replied.

Jerry tried to think, but he found it difficult.

-"Kiss Me!" the woman muttered. Jerry obeyed but was overwhelmed with the feeling that he had more important things to do. He stared around for a moment, his eyes resting on the jukebox.

-"Hi there." he said to the thing, "Let me have that song one more time"

The jukebox remained silent.

-"Come back!" said the woman said, "We don't want music."

-"Wait a minute, honey." Jerry said irritated. He stared at the jukebox and started laughing. He took some change from his pocket, slid a nickel into the coin lever, and pushed it hard.

Nothing happened. The silence of the jukebox made Jerry angry. His mind darted back to the man who had attacked the jukebox with an ax. He remembered someone telling him that man had spent hours in tete a tete with that jukebox. Jerry jumped up and walked over to the bartender. He wanted to know the name of that blond man.

An hour later Jerry sat next to a hospital bed and looked at that man's ravaged face beneath his blond hair. Indiscretion and a statement that he belonged to the family had persuaded the nurse at the entrance to lead Jerry to the man's bed. Now he sat there feeling as if his mind had died out. Jerry mentioned the jukebox and the man started to talk:

"I remember they carried me out of the bar on a stretcher. I felt no pain. I still don't feel anything. I think I'm paralyzed. I might as well die. That would be the best, and much safer too. She's very vindictive, you know? That jukebox - it's alive. It's a she."

-"Who put her there?" Jerry asked.

-"People from another time, in another world." the man replied, "They plant gadgets that we take for granted. Like that jukebox. But this one is smarter than the others."

The man pushed himself onto the pillow. His eyes stared at the small radio next to him

-"Is that an ordinary radio?" he asked in a whisper, "or is that one of those gadgets that spy on us.?" He sank back again: "Love me forever she played to me all the time. That's when I started to understand." he continued weakly. "She put ideas in my head. And she won't forgive me for this. I think she has a mechanical brain. She is highly intelligent for a jukebox. I just hope I die soon."

A nurse entered the room.

Jerry was still drunk and terrified. The streets were clear as he walked back. By the time he made up his mind, it was past closing time. A chilly silence went hand in hand with the darkness. The streetlights didn't help much.

"If I were sober, I wouldn't believe any of this." Jerry mused as he listened to his own footsteps on the sidewalk. "But now I do believe it. I have to do something. I have to do something about that jukebox."

His mind led him down an alley. Something told him to break a window.

The booths of the bar were all empty now. A dim light crept through the blinds. The silent jukebox stood against a wall- unresponsive. Jerry inserted a nickel, but nothing happened. He threw the activating switch, but it made no difference.

-"Sorry!" Jerry started, "I was drunk."

This can't be happening, he thought to himself, this is crazy.

-"You´re not alive!" he continued, "Are you?"

It was cold and dark. Bottles glittered against a mirror behind the bar. Jerry walked over and opened one of them. He let the whiskey run down his throat.

I am standing here arguing with a jukebox, he thought to himself.

-"You're only human. I'd better eliminate you." he heard the jukebox say.

Jerry wanted to scream. He ran around the bar, and back to the jukebox. He put his arms around it and pleaded:

-"Stop! Do not kill me!"

Panic sharpened his eyes. He saw a title on the records list. It jumped out alive. Jerry pushed the black button next to it with his finger.

Something pulled him even closer to the jukebox. The lights started to flicker. A record swung out; the needle sank into its black groove:

The jukebox started to play:

-"I´ll be glad when you`re dead...."