Part 2
Pressing the button to turn on the computer. Hearing the buzz as it warms. Watching intently, certain it will give her a godlike sign if she deviates from the prepared script.
Eyes staring as the monitor flashes letters, numbers and uncomprehendable codes that have no meaning. Colours appear then disappear. A grinding sound, surely the prelude to an explosion. Then clouds. Serence blue clouds which disappear to more codes and confusing words before the familiar Icon for Solitaire appears along with many others. Looking down to her list she sees a roughtly drawn but accurate picture of the screen before her.
She locates the Icons listed. Feels a sense of achievement which dies as she realises she can’t see the modem. Not really sure what to do she stands up. Looks behind the computer.
“It must be here. The list says it’s on the left of the computer. Did you take it Spot?”
At her name Spot stretches, meows once and goes back to sleep.
“Some companion you are. Not going to help me look then?”
Remembering the old chunky box like modem, she had overlooked the new tiny sleek modem resting beside the lamp. Turning it over she realises she has found it and makes a note on her list that modems are now very compact.
Sipping her coffee she thinks of the times she would read or watch TV while Helen was online. She didn’t understand her fear of computers. Maybe it was the ease and speed that Helen had with it. Her feeble attempts at chatting so long ago had left her frustrated and confused. Since then she had just played her Solitaire and been very happy with that.
Taking a deep breath she reaches forward, flips the tiny switch on the modem and is surprised by the resounding response from something so small. As the lights flicker and settle into a repeatative blink she takes the mouse, holds it over the little telephone and double clicks.
As the dialin window appears and stops she relaxes a little. She understands what she has done so far and can see what to do next. Typing in the password then clicking connect, the window changes to a smaller box. She can see it dialing, it says so. This is so clever she thinks. She dares not move as the words change and flash by. She’s
in, connected to the internet.
Turning past the two pages of what to do if it won’t connect she finds the heading sending an email. The mailbox on a post Icon makes her smile again as she clicks it.
Feeling a little more confident, she realises she has been digging her nails into her palms as they are both becoming sore and red lined.
As the mail page opens up it automatically connects and checks for mail. Waiting she watches. Her list says wait. So she does. The centre box disappears and a list of names or some type of identification fills in the previously blank spaces.
Reading down she finds the name she needs. Clicking the name, she opens the mail. Knowing this is Helen’s wish she still feels she is somehow intruding into something private.
The message is short but warm and loving:
Clicking on the reply the screen changes. A blank form appears with the reply address entered. Leaning forward and slowly pecking out the letters she writes:
Helen had a car crash last night and is in hospital. She is fine but will be in there a few weeks. Besides a few small cuts and scratches she has a broken shoulder and knee. I promised to contact you and will check this again tomorrow. Her parents drove down and are with her now. They are staying at my place as it’s much closer to the hospital than here. If you want to call Helen, the number for the hospital orthopedic ward is below. Don’t worry, she is really going to be alright.
Jane
Reading it through, satisfied with it, she hits send. And slumps back into the chair.
Winti,
Sorry I missed you darling. Hope everything is okay there.
I loved the card. How do you find just the right thing?
Give Spot a hug from me and tell her to stop watching the birds, people will talk.
I’ll wait for you tomorrow,
Love you more than ever,
SprintDear Sam,
© 1998
damah@hotmail.com