I couldn’t wait any longer. I met the postman each day, anxious to receive my package. I saved up fifty cents that my parents mailed to get my bestest gift ever. But I had to wait and then wait some more. It wasn’t fair! I was sure that my order had been lost in the mail until it wasn’t. No, it wasn’t. It finally arrived on a summer Friday just in time for the Saturday show. Hooray!
My name is Jessica Sanders and I’m almost ten, well in twenty-three more days to be exact. And I was in love with Winky Dink. He was my first love of a TV character. Others would follow over the years, but he was my first. A special one who I would always remember. I later thought first crush was a better description of how I felt. No matter. The feelings were just the same. I guessed Winky was about my age or so I hoped. I liked his star shaped hair, googly eyes, and cute smile. He was all the rage with the other kids as well, something of a folk hero to kids under twelve.
My gift was a genuine Winky Dink and You drawing kit. I had watched the Saturday show for some time, but it wasn’t the same without the drawing materials. Without them, I couldn’t connect the dots or decode the messages appearing on the screen. The plastic screen, the window they called it, which went on the TV and the magic crayons, helped me complete the picture. It was fantastic!
My dad told me the plastic screen was held in place by static electricity. I wasn’t sure what that meant but it worked just the same. So, who cares? We only got two stations on our Philco black and white set: channel 2 CBS and 9 WGN, our local one. That was our only viewing in Chicagoland in 1956. Pretty neat, huh?
I invited Stephanie over to watch the show and to connect the dots to complete pictures. She was my pal from down the block. Sadly, Steph didn’t have a Winky Dink set yet. Her folks believed that it was just a silly gimmick to sell more products of some sort or another. So, I shared mine with her. That’s what bestest friends do.
Our first task was to draw a bridge connecting two sides of land, easy peasy. With red, I drew one side of the bridge and Steph the other. We connected all the dots perfectly. Winky and his faithful dog Woofer then crossed to the other side. It was all really too cool! Winky said he could now continue his story, with our help of course. Another use of our interactive screen was to decode messages. An image would be displayed, showing only the vertical lines of the letters of the secret message. We would then quickly trace onto their magic screen, and a second image would display the horizontal lines, completing the text. We got it right the first time and read the message. Be careful what you wish for.
That was a strange message, but Steph and I giggled when we read it. Winky was so cute I didn’t care what he told us in his unusual messages knowing that we had a hand in writing them.
Over the next few months, I eagerly looked forward to 9:30 am every Saturday morning, setting my magic screen over the TV tube and waiting for Winky to start once again. I was nervous as I waited, hoping we wouldn’t have another glitch with the TV. And we did from time to time when the TV went on the fritz for no apparent reason. My dad made sure it was always repaired on a weekday to avoid an overtime charge.
My Crayola markings on its screen could have caused the problem but I didn’t think so. My parents were furious that I had drawn on the screen without bothering to use my magic one. Oh well, things happened and I was being punished, severely I believed. I was told I couldn’t watch my favorite show for two weeks. Two whole weeks I wouldn’t get to see Winky, Woofer, and Mr. Bungler, who always messed things up, and the rest of the cartoon family. That was unfair! I was angry at my parents for doing this to me.
I ruminated about my punishment over the next few days. I pretended to be sick and refused to go to school. I was an only child and usually got my way. Didn’t my parents understand that I loved Winky and his pals? Thinking back, I was obsessed with the program and had irrational dark thoughts. Perhaps, going down the rabbit hole with Alice through my magic window. I wasn’t certain but my anger was much deeper, turning to rage.
With my punishment over, I was allowed once again to enjoy Winky and his friends. I watched every episode, every clever drawing, and every coded message. The messages were getting weirder by the episode. In one, Winky told me my parents were unfair in punishing me. In another, he told me I had to get even with them, showing them who was boss of the family. They couldn’t deny me watching Winky Dink and You. No sir, they could not stop me, he said.
Not only was Winky getting more verbose, but he had also changed in appearance. No longer was he the young boy with big eyes, a bright smile and tousled hair. He was now something more sinister with a snarly look about him, with no longer a smile on his face but a sneer. He was a child with an attitude, a certain bravado which couldn’t be denied. He was creepy but I still loved him dearly and would forever. His coded messages became obscener and more violent with each episode I watched. I couldn’t help myself. It was as if I was being pulled through the magic window, ever closer to my love Winky.
Then when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, my parents told me I would be going to summer camp. I’d miss two episodes of my favorite program. I threw a temper tantrum like never before, a real shit fit. But my parents were adamant. I was going to camp whether I liked it or not. Those words sealed things and not for the better.
I told Winky about summer camp and that I would sorely miss him. He told me not to worry that my future was in my own hands, if only I acted. I did not understand what he was saying. But I listened as he whispered in my ear. Kill your parents, he quietly said. It will set you free. He said it repeatedly to the point I could no longer ignore the message. I acted quickly and decisively. It was over in a few minutes. As a good, obedient girl, I did as Winky instructed.
***
It was early morning as she sat in front of the TV staring at the monotonous WGN test pattern display, searching for Winky. Jessica was enthralled by the Indian head profile on the screen and the white static blaring from the speakers. So much so she appeared mesmerized as if in a trance. She wrapped her arms around the TV, hugging it and placing her cheek against the screen, knocking the rabbit ears to the floor. She wished the screen would gobble her up so she could be one with Winky. God, how she needed him to comfort her.
Her parents were upstairs in bed, sleeping the sleep of the dead. Winky could not be found anywhere, and Jessica was alone and frightened. Frightened about what she’d done to her parents, frightened about her future, and frightened she’d never see Winky again. She cradled the bloody butcher knife in her hands, slowly rocking back and forth and waited. Waited for him. Waiting for her beloved Winky Dink to return and make things right.
Suddenly, the test pattern turned black and Jessica sat alone in the dark room, alone with her thoughts about what had happened. She cried, not because of her parents, but because of the loss of her bestest friend Winky. She died to see him once more.
About the Author
George Larson is a retired special agent of the Diplomatic Security Service, U.S. State Department with many years service abroad. He has written eight novels (Dick Avery Adventure Stories) and a number of short horror stories. He holds a BA degree in English (non cum laude).
