The Great TV Turn-Off

by Beverly Lewis

  “Great idea!” Eric said.

  Mr. Tressler shook his head. “It’s not the same.”

  “Maybe better,” Shawn said. “Use more imagination.”

  Mr. Tressler began to chuckle. “You kids want this badly. I can see that.”

  Eric nodded his head. “We sure do!”

  “Well, I don’t know. . . .” The old man paused. “It’s awfully lonely in this house.”

  Eric felt sorry for his neighbor. “Why don’t you have supper with us? My grandpa will miss TV, too. You’d be good company for each other,” he said.

  Abby and Shawn were grinning.

  Mr. Tressler sighed. “The world might stop spinning without TV,” he said. “Why don’t you go ahead? Leave this old man out of it.”

  “No, no, Mr. Tressler. We want you in on the fun,” Abby insisted.

  Fun? Who said it would be fun? Eric scratched his head. Maybe Mr. Tressler was right. Maybe only certain people should do the turn-off thing.

  Going without TV might be boring. What would he do all week without it?

  Seven days was a very long time.

  FIVE

  Eric could hardly watch Mr. Tressler’s show. The dolphins were fine. It wasn’t that. He just kept thinking about next week.

  No TV? Was he crazy?

  Maybe it was time for another club meeting. An emergency meeting, for sure.

  But wait. The Cul-de-sac Kids might call him a wimp.

  He could almost hear little Dee Dee Winters. She’d be giggling herself silly. “You gotta be tough, Eric,” she might say. “Can’t you read books or play ball or something else?”

  He wouldn’t be wimpy. He’d made the choice. Everyone else was jumping on board. Except Mr. Tressler. And maybe Eric’s own mother.

  He looked at his watch. There was a commercial on TV. “I need to talk to my mom,” he spoke up.

  Mr. Tressler perked up his ears. “Is your mother giving up TV?”

  “I haven’t asked her yet,” Eric answered.

  Shawn got up and stretched. “I ready,” he said.

  “Don’t you want to watch the rest?” Mr. Tressler asked.

  Abby stood up. “We do, and we don’t.” She held up the promise sheet. “It’s almost dark. We wanna talk to some more neighbors.”

  Mr. Tressler seemed a bit sad. “Don’t go away mad,” he said.

  “Oh, we’re not,” said Abby. “It’s your choice.”

  “Free country,” Shawn piped up.

  “You’re right about that,” Mr. Tressler said. “But thanks for asking anyway.”

  “Any time,” Eric muttered.

  Rats!

  How many more people wouldn’t sign?

  Eric took two promise sheets into the house. He found his mother in the kitchen. She was warming up leftovers. They always had leftovers for Sunday supper.

  “Hey, Mom,” he said.

  She glanced at him. “What’s that?”

  He put the sign-up sheet on the counter. “Just something. It’s kinda dumb, I guess.”

  Grandpa came into the room just then. “Why so gloomy?” he asked Eric.

  “Things aren’t working out,” Eric muttered.

  “What things?” his mother asked.

  Eric told her everything. Mostly about Mr. Tressler’s TV habit. “He says he can’t eat supper without the news.”

  “That’s funny,” Grandpa spoke up. “The evening news gives me a stomach pain!”

  Eric had to laugh. “Good one, Grandpa. I’ll have to try that on Mr. Tressler.”

  “Be my guest,” said Grandpa. “The old fella needs a boot in the pants.”

  “Now, Grandpa!” Eric’s mother scolded.

  “Excuse me, but it’s true. Let’s see what I can do?” Grandpa said. “First off, I want to sign up for turn-off torture.”

  Eric laughed out loud.

  Grandpa gazed at Eric’s mother. “And what about the fair, young maiden?”

  Eric’s mother shook her head. “I can’t go without exercising. I really can’t.”

  “You could run up and down the cul-de-sac,” Eric suggested. “No one’ll mind. Right, Grandpa?”

  Grandpa nodded cheerfully. “Eric’s absolutely right.”

  “Are all the neighbors signing?” Eric’s mother asked.

  “The kids are asking their parents right now.” After all, they didn’t have much longer. Tomorrow was the first day.

  “Well, OK. I won’t be a party pooper.” Eric’s mother signed her name. “I hope I don’t live to regret this.” She rubbed her hips.

  “You won’t,” promised Eric. He hoped it was true.

  Eric had to call Abby. “Everyone at my house signed,” he bragged.

  “So did all the Hunter family,” Abby said.

  “What about Dunkum and Jason? Any problems?” Eric asked.

  “They’ve already called in to report,” Abby said. “And Stacy didn’t have trouble, either.”

  “Maybe ’cause her mom works,” Eric reminded Abby.

  “But after a long day, some people like to veg out in front of the TV,” Abby said. “Stacy’s mom is a good sport.”

  Eric knew she was right. “What about Mr. Tressler?” he asked. “Should we just let it go? Let him spoil our block record?”

  “Guess so,” Abby said. “It’s not for a school grade or anything.”

  “No kidding.” Eric was glad it wasn’t a test.

  They talked a little more. About their pets—Abby’s dog and Eric’s hamster.

  Then he heard a knock. “Someone’s at the door.”

  “See ya at school tomorrow,” Abby said. “Remember, no TV.”

  “How can I forget?” he teased.

  They hung up and Eric hurried to the door.

  There stood Mr. Tressler.

  “Well, hello,” Eric said. “What are you doing here?”

  “Let’s talk,” said the old gentleman.

  “Cool,” said Eric.

  SIX

  “Come in,” said Eric. He took his neighbor’s coat and hat.

  “Thank you,” Mr. Tressler said.

  Eric led him to the living room. “Have a seat.”

  Mr. Tressler chose Grandpa’s chair. “I’ve been thinking,” he said.

  “Yes?”

  “Am I the only coward in the cul-de-sac?” asked Mr. T.

  “Coward?” said Eric. “What do you mean?”

  The old man stared at his cane. “What I mean is, I want to sign on the dotted line.”

  “You do?” Eric nearly shouted.

  “Where’s that promise sheet or whatever?” Mr. Tressler said.

  Eric stood up. He glanced out the window. “Don’t go away. I’ll be right back!”

  He dashed out the front door. Even forgot to put on his coat. He headed across the street to Abby’s.

  Soon, he was back. “Here’s the sign-up sheet. Read it carefully,” Eric warned.

  Mr. Tressler frowned. “Why’s that?”

  “Abby’s pretty smart. She wrote all this stuff.” He pointed out the part about boxing up the TV. “But you shouldn’t worry. That won’t happen to you.”

  “Never fear. I’ll suffer through,” said Mr. T.

  Eric grinned. “I’m glad you came over. And don’t forget, you can have supper with us.”

  “Better talk to your mother,” Mr. T said.

  “She’ll call you, OK?”

  “Wonderful.” The old man seemed mighty thrilled.

  “Table talk at our house is better than the news anytime.” Eric got Mr. Tressler’s coat and hat.

  “Tell your grandad hello for me,” said Mr. T.

  “Sure will,” said Eric. “He’s probably upstairs watching TV. Getting his last fix, you know?”

  Mr. T waved his cane and gave a wink.

  Eric watched the old man walk down the sidewalk.

  Ya-hoo!

  One hundred percent for Blossom Hill Lane!

  He ran upstairs and watched TV with Grandpa. Last
chance.

  SEVEN

  “It’s Monday, the first day of TV Turn-Off Week,” Eric’s teacher told the class. “I pulled the plug on my TV. How many of you did, too?”

  Eric was proud to raise his hand. He looked around the room. All the kids had their hands up.

  “That’s really terrific,” said Miss Hershey.

  Eric wanted to check out lots of books from the school library. Abby, Stacy, and Dunkum were going to meet him there. Shawn and Jason had other plans. They were going to ice skate till their legs hurt.

  Going without TV wouldn’t be easy. Anybody knew that.

  And it wasn’t easy.

  It was horrible.

  After school, Eric kept staring at the black TV. It was turned off, of course. But he looked at it anyway. Even his stack of books didn’t help.

  “What a nightmare,” he muttered.

  Eric went upstairs. On the way, he passed the guest room—Grandpa’s. The small TV seemed to stare at him. He turned his head away.

  “That you, Eric?” Grandpa called.

  Eric peeked into the room. He held his head funny. That was so he couldn’t see the dark TV. “Hi, Grandpa,” he said.

  Grandpa tilted his head, too. “Something the matter?” He chuckled.

  “Oh, nothing,” Eric said. But his eyes were drawn to the silent tube. The one-eyed monster!

  Suddenly, Grandpa reached for the TV remote.

  “No! Don’t do that!” Eric shouted.

  Grandpa dropped the remote on his bed. “Gotcha!”

  “Aw, don’t scare me,” pleaded Eric. “I thought you forgot already.”

  Grandpa shook his head. “I made a promise. I’ll keep it.”

  Eric eyed the remote. “Maybe you’d better put that away.”

  “Good thinking,” he said. “Here.”

  Eric put the remote high in the closet. “Don’t forget where it is,” he said.

  Grandpa reached for a bag of jelly beans. “Any ideas?”

  “For what?”

  “For keeping my brain busy,” said Grandpa.

  “I’ve got a bunch of books,” Eric told him.

  Grandpa was grinning. “Good choice. Let’s read one together. Maybe we can discuss it later.”

  It sounded OK to Eric. Almost like school, though. “What’s your favorite?” he asked.

  “Got a good mystery?” Grandpa asked.

  “I’ll check.” Eric went back downstairs. He found an adventure mystery. “We need some popcorn, too,” he said to himself.

  His mother was chopping cabbage in the kitchen. “Hi, Eric. How’s cold turkey going?”

  He shook his head. “So far, it’s horrible. I think Grandpa’s fading fast,” he said. “What about you? Did you do your exercises?”

  She nodded. “I ran around the cul-de-sac six times.”

  “Really?”

  “The neighbors must think I’m nuts,” she said.

  “How come?” asked Eric.

  “Well, Mr. Tressler came outside. He asked if I was all right.” She laughed.

  “What did you tell him?” Eric asked.

  “I said I was in withdrawal,” she replied.

  Eric understood. “Then what?”

  “Mr. Tressler stayed outside, too. He walked around his driveway,” she said. “And every time I came around the corner, he’d wave.”

  “It’s about time Mr. T got some fresh air.” Eric was glad. The Great TV Turn-Off was doing somebody some good.

  “I invited him for supper tomorrow night,” his mother said.

  “That’ll be cool,” said Eric. “I like Mr. Tressler.” He almost forgot why he’d come to the kitchen.

  Then his mother said, “Want some popcorn?”

  “How’d you know?” he said.

  “You have that look,” she said.

  Eric grinned. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Just then they heard thumps overhead.

  “Sounds like Grandpa dropped a shoe,” Eric said.

  “Probably on purpose,” his mother said. “Better get back upstairs. I’ll bring the popcorn.”

  Eric closed his eyes as he passed the living room. He felt his way to the stairs.

  Why did the TV keep pulling him, anyway?

  EIGHT

  Tuesday was the second day of TV Turn-Off.

  Pure misery.

  All of Eric’s favorite after-school specials were on. But he wouldn’t watch them. He’d promised.

  Everyone else was stuck, too. “All across America,” he reminded himself. “Everybody’s bored. Just like me.”

  Grandpa came downstairs for tea. First time in a long time. “Where’s that mystery book of yours?” he asked.

  Eric found it. “Here you go,” he said.

  Grandpa settled into his favorite chair. “Now, where were we?” And he began to read.

  Eric enjoyed hearing Grandpa. Sometimes he would change his voice around. It made the characters almost real.

  By suppertime, Grandpa had to stop. “Help your mother set the table,” he said.

  Eric wanted to know what happened. “Can we read after supper?”

  “Only if you read to me,” Grandpa said.

  “It’s a deal!”

  Mr. Tressler showed up on time for supper. He was dressed up. Nice coat and suspenders. The works.

  “Welcome, neighbor,” Grandpa said.

  Eric held the door open. He was glad to do it. Having their neighbor come for a meal was a great idea. It might keep Mr. T from sneaking TV.

  “Whatcha been doing?” Eric asked him.

  “I’ve got a lot of time on my hands,” Mr. Tressler answered. “Don’t really know what to do with myself.”

  “I know what you mean,” Eric agreed.

  Grandpa waved them into the living room. “Let’s chat by the fire,” he said.

  Eric’s mother offered some hot tea.

  “Thank you, don’t mind if I do,” said Mr. T.

  Grandpa struck up a conversation. He and Mr. T talked about their birds. Doves, canaries, and parakeets. They laughed every so often. They all sipped tea.

  Eric couldn’t remember listening to two old men chatter. It was kinda fun. And for several minutes he forgot. He forgot that he missed TV!

  After supper, his mother brought out some games. “Anybody interested in playing Monopoly?” she asked.

  Mr. Tressler’s eyes lit up. “I used to play that game as a teenager. It’s been a long, long time.”

  Grandpa was ready to take on Mr. T. He seemed eager to shuffle the cards.

  Eric got excited, too. “Are you gonna play?” he asked his mother.

  She pulled out a chair. “Count me in!”

  They played till Eric’s bedtime. The mantel clock struck nine times.

  “Wow, I can’t believe it!” he said.

  Mr. Tressler scooted his chair back. “Time flies when you’re having fun.”

  “You can say that again!” Grandpa answered.

  Eric piped up. “Time flies when you’re—”

  “Enough!” his mother scolded.

  “Sorry, Mom,” he said.

  They were all grinning at him now.

  “Thanks for a great evening,” Mr. T said.

  “Any time,” Grandpa said.

  “How about my place next time?” Mr. T offered.

  Eric’s mother smiled. “We’d love to come.”

  “Can you cook?” Eric asked.

  Mr. Tressler laughed out loud. “You’ll have to judge that for yourself, young man.”

  They said their good-byes.

  Before Eric went to bed, he hugged his mom. “I didn’t miss the TV all night,” he whispered.

  She kissed his head. “Me neither.”

  Eric could hardly wait to see the Cul-de-sac Kids. How were his friends doing without the tube?

  NINE

  Wednesday morning was crazy.

  Eric got up early for his paper route. He felt tired. He’d gone to bed late. But playing Monopoly last
night was worth it.

  He bundled up to go outdoors. It was snowing softly.

  First stop, Mr. Tressler’s house.

  Usually he heard flute music this early. Mr. T liked to practice before sunrise. It was his special thing.

  Eric was used to it. The old man wasn’t weird. Not really.

  Eric tossed the paper onto the porch.

  Phhhhlat! It bounced off the railing.

  “I can do better than that.” He went to find the paper. Then he carried it up onto the porch.

  That’s when he heard something. It sounded like the voice of a news reporter. He didn’t want to snoop. But he was curious.

  Eric took a quick peek. Through the door window he saw a flashing light.

  “Oh no!” he said. “Mr. T’s in trouble now!”

  Sure enough. The TV in the living room was on.

  He wondered what to do.

  Eric took another peek. This time he saw Mr. T lying on the sofa. Sound asleep.

  At school, Eric told his friends what he’d seen.

  “Maybe his TV came on by itself,” Jason said, laughing.

  “TVs don’t do that,” Eric argued.

  Abby nodded. “Eric’s right.”

  “Eric’s always right,” Dee Dee piped up. “I’m sick of it!” She ran to the merry-go-round.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Eric said.

  “She’s a little freaked out. We all are,” Carly said. “Giving up TV is a big deal.”

  Abby shook her head. “But a promise is a promise.”

  “Rules are rules,” said Dunkum.

  Eric agreed. “Mr. T loses his TV.”

  “First thing after school,” Jason said.

  “Poor Mr. Tressler,” Stacy said. “Do we really have to box it up?”

  Abby reminded her of the promise sheet. “We all signed it. Remember?”

  “What if Mr. T just forgot?” said Dunkum. “What about that?”

  Jason squeezed into the circle. “Maybe his TV got lonely.”

  Nobody paid attention.

  “Has anyone almost turned on their TV?” Eric asked.

  Shawn and Jimmy looked at each other. “I not,” said Jimmy. “I see Shawn, though.”

  Eric perked up his ears. “Surely not Shawn,” he said.

  Shawn nodded his head. “I come very close.” It sounded like velly.