He pressed the tool. The post straightened. The rot vanished. And over the fence, Mr. Harriman—who hadn’t smiled in a decade—suddenly laughed, calling out, “Hey, Leo? I’m sorry about the leaf blower thing. Want to come over for coffee?”

Leo laughed. But desperation makes fools of practical men.

He used the second on his wife’s wedding ring, which had been lost in a lake five years ago. The tool pulsed. The ring appeared in his palm, still warm, as if it had never left.

He didn’t need it anymore.