The next morning was bright and sunny. Children played on the beach, teenagers laughed at the mall, and an old woman cried inconsolably as the undertaker came for her husband.

Through her tears she could be heard to make out: "Scott and Dawn, come here - I want to see you."

Scott and Dawn complied. It helped that Ada was always nice to them.

"You know you're the boy and girl my children never could be. Homer was pretty disappointed at how they turned out, as well - but for some reason or other he never thought to disinherit them. As a result the kids will get everything he owns. Should be fun watching them fight over it." She chuckled, revealing some of her old charm.

"Are you sure they won't kick you out of the house?" Dawn was concerned.

"No, the common law says I'll get to live in it until I die, although I haven't checked with Claire yet. Anyway, I wanted to give you something. See that big book on the shelf? Get it down."

Scott tiptoed and pulled the book down. The cover read "THE CODE OF THE LAWS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 1970 EDITION: CRIMES AND CRIMINAL PROCEDURE."

"Go to page 205."

Although almost fifty years old, the book had aged gracefully, for it dated from a time when the Government Printing Office still did quality work.

They found that the section on "Telephone fraud" had been hollowed out and a box with a keypad attached to a speaker inserted in the cavity. Above the keypad the words "Homer + Ada 11/5/74" were written in permanent marker. Scott lifted the keypad and saw a magnetic strip that had been glued to the bottom of the hollow. On the back and along the sides of the box, "Congrats on moving in!" was written, with a few signatures from people who certainly wouldn't care to have their signatures publicized.

"Now you've seen it. A real life blue box. Homer and I built it together to celebrate moving into this house and getting married."

"Was it hard?"

"Not hard if you know what to do. Of course, that numbskull husband of mine didn't." Her laughter drove away her tears.

"Does it work?"

"Not anymore," she winked, "let me tell you a story. I was so frustrated one night I stormed off and told him to figure out what to do with the instructions himself. He didn't come into bed all night and he wasn't there in the morning. Well, I went down to the workshop - where Scott's room is now - and I saw him next to the finished box. Well, I was impressed, but I had to put on an air of imperiousness, you know. So I went 'Let's see how you screwed up.'

"I went over to it and I saw an extra key, above the 8. 'What does this do?' I asked him.

"He said 'Press it and see'."

"What did it do?" Scott asked.

"Press it and see."

Scott pressed it. "Now listen to the speaker." Three ears drew close to its opening. They heard a melody played using the pulses in the blue box. Ada sang along.

"With someone like you,
A pal good and true,
I'd like to leave it all behind,
And go and find,
Someplace that's known,
To God alone,
Just a spot to call our own,
We'll find perfect peace,
Where joys never cease,
Out there beneath a kindly sky;
We'll build a sweet little nest,
Somewhere in the west,
And let the rest of the world go by."

"That was the song I sang for him when we first met. It was fifty years old then; it is one hundred years old now."

"The rest of the world has gone by," remarked Scott, "and fallen on us."