Three days later, the glove had yet to do more than weigh on my hand and give me a rash beneath my wrist. Nonetheless, with summer almost over, I felt there was no harm in tinkering with it further. The work was amusing, at least, and I decided if I could make it do anything, I’d get rid of the plastic casing so it’d be marginally more comfortable to wear.
I set my screwdrivers aside and tried on the glove again. Luckily, even with all my fiddling, it still fit. I flexed my fingers, made a fist, watched the metallic black fibers twist and turn as my hand moved underneath them.
Then my TV flicked on.
I looked sideways, moving my hand as I turned: the channel changed.
I grinned and looked at the glove again. It had no power source. No battery, solar cell, nothing. I waved my hand again, and once more, the channel changed. I tried to force the change by my mind alone, but nothing happened till I moved my hand again. And then again. I shook my head and pointed at my stereo.
The radio turned on. I turned my hand like I was turning the dial, and slowly the stations rolled to the side, first through the fading sounds of today’s fashionable music, then to static, then to country. I hated country. I snapped my fingers and the stereo turned off, right as the commercial on TV was interrupted by an urgent newscast: The anchorwoman was half–disheveled, her make–up flawless but her hairpiece a little lopsided as she straightened the prompts in front of her.
“This just in,” she said, “Dr. Fondlebrain is attacking downtown!”
I half choked on my spit. Dr. Fondlebrain? Seriously? These supervillains were getting cheesier and cheesier. I figured any more cheese and we’d be forced to be vegetarians.
The newscast switched to live feed of the scene, where a man with a shiny yellow head was swinging around mechanical arms that spewed electrical bolts everywhere. Just as the shaky camera zoomed in for a face shot, a blast hit it and the feed went dead.
I brushed off the picture with my hand, uninterested, and the TV turned off. I looked at my glove, back up at the TV, back at my glove. He was wearing a mechanical body suit. And I’d stumbled upon a glove that could control electronics.
My lips twisted into a grin as the pieces fitted themselves together. What better way to end the summer than playing hero for a day?
PART 3: The Defeat