Nolan Jones had a good trick, Nolan had a music player that he got as a present. It didn't come with music, you told it what you wanted to hear and it played it. Voice activated, didn't matter where the music was stored in the world, the music player found it and played it. Not just music, any audio file ever digitized could be found by the music player.
Nolan woke up in the middle of the night, he heard his player, he didn't remember leaving it on. Curious, he put on the headphones.
"...This is 188 heading northbound on I-87 approaching the Jones residence, over."
The police? In fright, he started talking to himself, something he often did, The police were still there, in the background, in the foreground were instructions that sounded like his Dad's GPS.
"At the end of the room, turn left," said the electronic girl.
Nolan obeyed, directed at every turn by the disembodied voice coming from his music player. By the time he imagined the police must be at his house and waking his parents, he had escaped into the summer night with only a towel, a toothbrush, the first clothes he'd put on and the music player.
Many many years later and far far away, living comfortably on the advice of his music player, he decided to share the secret of his gift with a close friend. After telling the story, he invited his friend to try it.
When Nolan's friend saw the old piece of wood and frayed headphone cables, his friend smiled sadly and did as Nolan asked, after a moment of listening to nothing he thought fast and said "It's not registered to me, I don't hear anything."
Shaking his head in wonder and sadness, He left shortly thereafter.