The KZOO morning show went to commercial. Paul eased in behind a purple mini-van and tried again.
He heard crackling. His arm ached.
Then he noticed a familiar tone. He back-tracked and fine-tuned.
Paul cranked the wheel, and on the green cut-off a Yellow Cab to park on the curb. He put the car in gear, stopped the engine, then turned the key and sighed in relief at the return of the voice.
"This is Radio Free Siouxland, broadcasting the seeds of the revolution with legs astride the weather ball in downtown, on top of the Terra Centre, Sioux City, Iowa."
Paul pulled the lever to recline the seat. He tugged the emergency brake and pushed the button locking the doors. He pried each heel from his tennis shoes and watched the road and foot traffic with narrowing eyes.
He strained to see the weather ball on top of that one building next to the cop shop.
"When the weather ball be red, we all be dead. The weather ball be green, Wall Street obscene. Weather ball be blue, they come lookin' for you. Weather ball be white, no brothers in sight.
"Yes, the weather ball be black, bad times are back.
"But you know that rain is good for the crops, don't they say?
"But today we play! We're going to send out some Jackson Browne, Lou Reed and Mr. John Prine for you this morning.
"This is Elana ... at KFU."
Pretending to sleep, Paul watched a mail carrier in shorts and knee socks coming down the sidewalk with an antenna sticking out of his mailbag.
"Remember, all next week I'll be on a clandestine remote from the Southern Hills Mall. Bring your Walkman and we be jammin'."
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