Dead Pixel

Dead Pixel

Vincent Macnally or Mack as he was known to his customers and friends, opened up the shop as he’d done so for the last thirty five years promptly at nine a.m. The green and beige roller shutter that protected the large display window was stiffer than usual.
Either that or I'm just getting weaker. He thought to himself. Now in his late sixties he was starting to feel the slow deterioration of his body creep up on him. 
“Mornin’ Mack.” A loud but softly edged drawn out voice called out from across the street.
“Mornin’ Dolores,” Mack replied without even looking, “another beautiful morning.” He continued.
“Sure is, you want me bring you your cup over or you goin’ come over for it?” 
There hadn’t been a day in, well, for as long as he could remember that he hadn’t walked over to Dolly’s for his coffee, yet every day he was asked if he wanted his coffee brought over to him. 
“I’ll be over shortly Dol.” Mack replied with a smile. 
Dolly’s brewed the best coffee in the whole of downtown, probably the best in the world or so Dolores would have you believe, they also did a mean grilled cheese sandwich with maple glazed bacon, but Mack had forced himself to have only one per week, they were good, so good in fact, but, his doctor had warned him about high cholesterol and his fattening arteries. Whilst not fat, Mack was not the healthiest specimen on the planet. 
Mack was right, looking up, it was a glorious day, beautiful clear blue skies. It was cold, but clear and that’s just how he liked it. Dolores gave him the usual thumbs up, she knew all too well that he’d be over shortly after he’d put his heater on in the back room of the shop and turned on the televisions that were on display in the window. For as long as Dolores had been running the coffee shop Mack had been repairing and selling second hand TV’s. 
Heater on and televisions quietly displaying the news in the shop window he closed the door behind him, turned the key and walked over to Dolly’s.

“I’m gonna sue that doctor of yours.” Dolores chuckled as Mack ordered his coffee, sans grilled cheese and maple bacon sandwich. 
“How about I take a slice of that ginger cake instead, I mean I don’t want you going out of business what with not havin’ my grilled cheese sandwich runnin’ through the till everyday.”
 “Now don’t you be giving me no cheek Vincent Macnally.” Dolores replied, whilst waving her finger in his direction. Her southern drawl whilst not new to this area of New York was still a rare sound.
“And when you gonna get that television fixed? I need to make a livin’ too y’know.” Mack spun on his stool that was in front of the counter and pointed to an old Zenith that was bolted to the wall in the corner of the cafe. 
“Pfft, why fix it? If I wanna know what’s goin’ on in the world I just look over to your shop.” 
Coffee in hand and a slice of ginger cake in his pocket he headed back across the road to his shop. TV repairs in general were on the decline, a disposable society, one of goods that weren’t built to last had impacted his business. Thankfully though the increase of trendy retro living had seen the desire for old televisions rocket the past few years so kept him ticking over. 
He placed his coffee on a small shelf that was on the wall that his work bench was up against, a shelf that only ever had seen the bottom of that mug. His tools were hung on various hooks and a large metal drawer system at the side of the work bench housed many parts for many machines. He sat in his old torn leather stool and removed the back from a mid to late 60’sTransvision. One of the last to come out of that factory. He’d been asked to remove the entire innards of the TV and replace it with something more modern and reliable. Deep down he felt he was betraying the original TV but modern refurbs were big business and he couldn’t let nostalgia get in the way of paying the bills.
Around three he finished screwing the back shell into the TV on the bench and turned it around. He flicked the switch on the socket at the wall and then pushed the on/off button on the front panel. After a few seconds the screen burst into life and he turned the channel to the news. He tested the volume and there were no rattles of loose screws or panels vibrating at high volume. He lowered the volume and sat back on his stool. He opened a packet of chips and took a sip from his ice tea. 
He sat and watched the news whilst he finished his chips and rested for a moment. The reporter didn’t look familiar but the street he was standing did. It was only a block away from the shop.
He turned up the volume a little more, his hearing it seems, also in a degenerative state. The reporter said that it had suddenly appeared at two thirty that afternoon, that there was no explanation for it and that as yet there had been no statement from the police or the government. He took a sip from his tea, the “What” that the reporter was talking about not yet apparent. 
Suddenly the cameraman turned and faced what looked like a huge black skyscraper reaching up as far as the eye could see. This skyscraper though had no windows and it was standing in the middle of the street. A police cordon around its perimeter.
“It’s been approximated at fifty feet by fifty feet Gwen,” the reporter now talking to the news anchor Gwen Byrant back in the studio. “Gwen, I have with me Bobby De’leon who was just about to cross the street when it appeared. Bobby, channel six news, tell me exactly what happened?”
 “Well Kent, I was just about to cross the street when all of a sudden it was there, instantly, just there, then, a car comes out of it and nearly kills some old lady.”
“When you say came out of it, what do you mean?”
“I mean one minute it was not there and the next it came out of the black.”
“So what did you do next?” Kent positioned his mic back towards Bobby.
“Well I walked up to it because it looked solid, like the blackest black I've ever seen.”
“And what then?” 
“Then I went up to touch it Kent.”
“And how did it feel?” Kent already knew and was excited about the scoop he was just about to air.
“That’s the thing it doesn’t feel like anything, I put my hand right into it.”
“So it’s not solid then?”
“No Kent, I was able to put my arm right into it and you couldn’t see my arm, so I then decided to have a look and put my head inside.”
“And what did you see inside Bobby?”
“Nothing, it was just black.”
“Bobby Deleon, thank you,” Kent turned back to the camera. “The police have yet to confirm the claims from Mr De'leon but we are expecting a press release in the next hour, back to you Gwen.” 
Mack turned the volume down, What the hell is going on?
Placing down his jug of iced tea he grabbed his coat and made for the door. This thing was less than five minutes away from his shop and he wanted to go and see exactly what it was. He turned down 3rd and there in front of him he could see, it. He looked up and just as it looked on screen, the shaft of black rose into the sky as high as his eyes could see. The crowd was so large around it that he could get nowhere near, but he didn’t need to. The sheer scale of this thing was huge. 

That night the news continued to report on it, any other news was displayed on a rolling banner across the bottom of the screen. News anchors talked to scientists and religious leaders, neither of which could explain the phenomena nor agree as to why it could be there. A sign of God? A visual phenomena caused by seismic activity or atmospheric pressure. 
The old swamp gas strikes again. Mack thought to himself.

That morning and for the first time ever, Mack was late opening up. He’d stopped by the thing, not that he could get near it. The police had now shut down the entire block but he’d managed to get a glimpse of it through the gap between the bank and a law firm. Something had been bothering him from the moment he had seen the thing on TV, an odd familiarity, but he couldn’t put his finger on what.
Mack closed the door to the shop behind him and put the heater on, He’d seen on the way that Dolly’s had a queue of people outside, the local attraction obviously being good for business. Heater on, he switched on the TV, the news filling the back room a few seconds later. 
The bell went on the door and Mack walked through the beaded curtain into the shop.
“Save you queuing.” Dolores held out a fresh cup of coffee.
“You saved me, I was just about to make myself a cup of freeze dried crap.”
“You’re very welcome.” Dolores said with a smile.
“You better get back over there, I’ve never seen you so busy.” 
“Sold out of grilled cheese already.” She said proudly.
“Well you better save me some hot beef for a sandwich at dinner.” 
“I’ll put you something aside.”
Neither of them talked about the thing, Mack was wanting to know more about it but Dolores was just enjoying the increase in customers. 
“Mack?” Dolores was almost apprehensive about her question. “Do you think you could fix my TV?”
“I’ll tell you what, you make sure I get some of that beef and you can have this one.” Mack pointed to a more modern looking flat screen TV. 
“Oh I couldn’t, that’s too fancy for my little cafe.” She protested but secretly thought it would be great. 
“I have to give it a quick clean and once over but you can have it, it came in as a part exchange the other week. So it owes me no money and I'll take that old set off you free of charge.” Mack was always on the lookout for TV’s he could salvage spares from and he’d not had a Zenith of that age in for a while.  
“I will humbly accept your offer Mr Macnally.”  
“I’ll come over around lunch time and you can fix me up that sandwich whilst I fit it to the wall.”

Mack sipped his coffee. It really is the best he’s ever tasted. He thought.
He plugged in the LCD screen tv and gave it a once over. Sound was okay, casing was fine and no cracks or creaks to be heard. He cleaned the screen making sure to get in all the corners. Another thing that he hated about new TV’s, the old glass screens you could clean every part but a modern TV with its flat screen and plastic angled surround, it was just, well just not a glass screen. 
It was on his final wipe that he saw it. At first almost invisible, only when the screen turned white did it stand out and strike him. A small, black square. A tiny, dead pixel. LCD screens you see are made up from tiny squares, pixels. When these tiny squares are working, they combine to create your picture, but if just one goes, the rest of them carry on, so you end up with just one tiny black dot.
He felt his heart start to pick up pace.
“Don’t talk shit Vincent.” He said out loud to himself. “Now you’re losing it.” Again aimed aloud to himself. He moved from the bench and slouched into an old armchair that was in the corner of the room.  He stared over to the flat screen TV, never taking his eye off the black spot in the corner. 

“Okay Mr Macnally, I’ll file the report for you and an officer will get back to you if we feel necessary.” The police receptionist cleared the line and emailed the report to Inbound.
“Is this guy serious?” Detective McGinley walked into reception with the email printed off. “Dead fucking pixels? TV screens? Jesus Candice, humour them and put the phone down. We can’t go chasing every asshole who thinks the worlds gonna end or that the matrix is falling apart. It’s bad enough with those tin foil hat wearing ufo fuckers, now this?”
“Sorry Detective.” Candice shrank into her chair, she’d been in the job less than a month and was still getting to know the ins and outs of how seriously calls were taken. 
“Look, just no more nutjobs please.” McGinley smiled apologetically. There goes my chance of banging her at the christmas party. He thought.

“Hey detective!” Lieutenant Shaw shouted as he saw McGinley pass through the corridor. “Tell my Captain here what came through before?” Shaw was already laughing.
“Oh the pixel guy?” McGinley said, smiling as he approached.  “Captain, we had some old nutjob TV repair man call earlier, talking about how he thinks he knows what it is and that it's the same as a dead pixel on a TV screen.” 
“Did this man leave a name?” The Captain asked. Both men stopped, their laughing faces now turning to ones of confusion. “A name Detective?” The Captain seemed almost anxious.
“Errrr Macnally Sir, Vincent Macnally, he owns a TV repair store over on 4th.” 
“Thank you Detective, I think that’s all for now.” The Captain looked at McGinley and nodded, the sign that this conversation was over.
“This goes no further Lieutenant, you hear me?” The Captain had waited until McGinley was easily out of earshot.
“Yes Cap’.” Shaw’s face now stoney and serious.

In his office he picked up the phone. “Get me the Chief on the line will you?”
After a few rings there’s a click.
“Captain Davies, what a nice surprise.”
Captain Davies took a deep breath. “Tom, we need to talk.”

They met in a cafe outside of downtown, a little place that was open twenty out of twenty four hours. 
“And this is all he said?” The Chief said after hearing the Captain's story. “Look I don't think we have anything to worry about but I tell you what, I’ll make some calls and get it looked into.”
“I just thought you should know Tom, I know you’re well in with the crowd if you know what I mean, it just sounded like something that could cause potential…well problem.”
“No of course, you did the right thing. Look just leave it with me, I’m sure it will turn out to be nothing.
That night on the way home, the Chief pulled out a phone from his inside pocket. He clicked on the contacts and called the only number there.
“Ray, We have a problem.” 

The next day the queue was just as long outside Dolly’s but just like the day before Dolores came on over with a fresh cup of coffee. They exchanged the usual pleasantries and Dolores left. In the back, the news was on again and still focused on whatever “it” was. The bell on the shop door rang.
“What did you forget?” Mack called out to the front, there was no answer. He got up from his armchair but before he could get to the beaded curtain, three armed men in suits came through and into the back room. 
“Vincent Macnally?” The first of the men spoke.
“Who wants to know?” Mack had seen these exchanges in films before, he knew how it went.
“The second man lifted his gun to Mack’s head. “This isn’t a fuckin’ movie, just answer the man.”
Mack almost puked. 
“Y-Y-Yes, What do you want?” His hands shook so much the coffee was spilling over his cup.
“What do you know about the anomaly on 3rd street?” The first man asked.
“Nothing, nothing I-I just had an idea that’s all, it’s crazy I don’t even know why I called the police.” 
“Who else have you told about your, idea.?”
“Nobody, I swear, just the police, when I called the police, it was a woman who took my call.”
“I think you better come with us Mr Macnally.” a fourth man appeared in the doorway, dressed a lot smarter than these goons in suits. 

Mack was sitting in a room, alone. Just a table and three chairs. He’d lost count of how long he’d been there. They’d questioned him for hours or at least it felt like hours. Over and over the same questions. What did I know, where did I get my information? No matter how many times he answered they kept on asking. 
The sound of the door jolted him from his stare. A man walked in, a man who he’d not seen before.
“Mr Macnally, I have a problem, my boss, well he doesn’t believe you when you say you know nothing about the anomaly. He thinks you’re lying to us.”
“I’m telling the truth, I swear to god.” Macnally was tired and emotionally drained.
“God won't help you here Mr Macnally.” The man stood up and signalled to a camera that was behind a mirrored wall.
Three men came into the room, two restrained Mack whilst the other covered his head with a cloth sack.
This was it, he was going to die, all because of a stupid idea. An idea that thinking about it now seemed utterly ridiculous, he was going to die because he thought that maybe, just maybe what, one of Earth's pixels had died?  Fuckin hell Vincent you’re gonna die because of that. 

For the next god knows how many hours Mack was being transported to somewhere. Where? He didn’t know, all he knew was from the sound and the movement that he’d been in a van. Now though he was sat again in silence, in what felt like the exact same chair as hours before. He heard movement behind him and the blackness of the sack gave way to the lights of the room. Mack squinted as he waited for his eyes to adjust. 
He could see a desk in front of him, a large wooden desk, and behind that desk was a leather chair, it's back to him.
Slowly the chair turned and eventually Mack caught sight of the President. 
“Mr Macnally, Tell me,” The president leaned forward linking his fingers together and putting his elbows on the desk. 
“How do you know about the dead pixel?”