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I climbed down the ladder and went back inside, but nothing was spinning, nothing was flashing. “No change,” I yelled.
“Hang on,” he called out. “How about now?”
A green light, faint as could be, flickered, then died. “Wait! What did you do? Do it again!”
A second later, the same green light flickered on, stayed green for half a second, then died again. “Yes, that!” I said. I went outside so I could speak up to him. “There was a brief green light on the tracking sensor. It comes on for a second, then goes off. So there’s some kind of signal.”
“Okay, let me try again,” he said.
It took a few attempts, some disassembling and reassembling and some electrical tape, but he managed to get one green light to stay on. “Hold it there,” I yelled, excitedly. “We have one solid green light.”
“Awesome!” he said, tossing his shirt down to me, then climbed down the ladder. As soon as his feet were on the ground, I gave him a kiss, then pulled him into the room.
“Look!” I showed him the single green light. “You did that.”
His smile faded as he stared at the old white box. “But there should be four,” he said.
“Well, yes. But even one light tells us that there’s a connection.”
“But why aren’t all the lights on?”
“I’d say there’s a connectivity issue with the wiring. And that’s a job for a technician.”
“Lemme see if I can do somethin’ with those antennas.”
Back up he went, and after some MacGyvering with the antenna and aerials and securing the bases, he had them all upright at least.
I watched the different sensor units, not holding out much hope but excited all the same.
“How’s that?” he yelled.
“Nothing.”
There was more grumbling from the roof. “Okay, what about now?”
“No.” But then another sensor light blinked on. “Wait! Yes, right there!”
“Right there, baby. Yes, yes,” he yelled in a provocative tone.
And another sensor came on.
“There! You got another one.”
But after some more cussing and sighing, the last one wouldn’t come on. All up, three out of five was better odds than I could have hoped for.
When Tully climbed down off the ladder, I pulled him inside again. “Look at what you did!”
He smiled. “I’m pissed about the last two.”
“I’m not. This place needs a full upgrade and install. We fixed more than we rightly should have. If all we’d done was come here and taken some photos and filled in a damage report, I’d still call it a success. But we have readings.” I couldn’t help feeling a little proud. “There better be some happy people in head office.”
Tully laughed. “There better be, yes. You can tell them that your boyfriend did a super impressive job, and we’ll just keep the fact that between you and me that all I really did was jiggle some wires and screwed a few antennas back into place.”
“Believe me, I’ll be telling them exactly everything you did.”
“I took some photos for your report,” he said, showing me on his phone. “But now I guess we better try and fix that box stand, or the readings sent back to head office won’t be correct.”
This was true. Stevenson-screen weather boxes had specific location and height requirements to achieve the most accurate results.
