The Radio Disease Killer

“He’s here! He’s here!”

Little sister’s voice cut through the house like a diamond through glass.

I looked out the window to see a distinguished gentleman standing on our stoop, holding an odd looking wooden box.

My mother showed him into the parlor.

Being a curious child, I asked as to the nature of the box.

“This device is The Radio Disease Killer, Patent Pending,” he told me. “It will cure your grandmother of what ails her.”

Just then, Grandma rolled into the parlor, pushed by my brother and sister.

“I see,” she said, “that the doctor is here. Let’s begin, shall we?”

The Doctor attached wires to each of her hands, and then plugged a third into an electrical outlet. He flipped three switches and tuned a dial as a weird tone emitted from within the box. The lights dimmed and Grandma began to shivver and shake, as though a palsey had taken her.

It was terrifying.

The parlor smelled like ozone.

Oddly enough, Grandma didn’t complain much about her ailments after the one treatment. So it worked.

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