Alex O'Donnell and the 40 CyberTheives

by Regina Doman

  She looked at it, and then wearily leaned her head back on the sofa. “Can you open it for me?”

  Obediently, Alex pulled out his penknife, slit open the envelope, and removed the folded piece of paper. He instantly recognized the handwriting of the curt, scribbled note and understood his mother’s reticence.

  “It’s from Uncle Cass, isn’t it?” she said. “I knew he would send something.

  We weren’t able to make the payment last month. Dad already called him to ask for an extension.”

  Alex read the heated note, and felt a spasm of anger himself. “You know, it’s a good thing we’re related, because otherwise, I’d never do business with him.”

  She sighed. “We did borrow a lot of money from him when the insurance didn’t cover my medical bills. He just needs us to repay. That’s all.”

  “Yeah, but I find it just a little hard that he’s been charging us interest!”

  Alex said bitterly. Every month for the past seven years, they were supposed to send a check to Uncle Cass, and with the interest he charged, the amount they owed seemed to get bigger and bigger, because they weren’t always able to pay every month.

  “Well, at least he didn’t call a collection agency,” she said humorously.

  Then abruptly she lapsed into silence, and her face took on that far-off look that Alex also recognized. She was calculating, running figures in her head. His mother was as good as an MIT professor when it came to numbers. She had worked as an actuary before her marriage.

  After a few minutes, she said, “Hand me the checkbook, will you?”

  Alex found it near her yarn basket, and she opened the plastic-covered book, took out a pencil, and started making marks, then was silent again for a long time while Alex turned back to the TV.

  When a commercial came on, he glanced at her and saw Mom had a small smile on her face. “I think it might work. If we can use our new financial status to get a loan from the bank with a better interest rate, we can pay him back in full. After the end of the month.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why then?”

  “Because of when the interest is paid. We wouldn’t have to use a cent of the money. All we’d have to do is take advantage of the fact that we have the money. Actually, this opens up all sorts of interesting possibilities…” She buried her head in the checkbook and did not look up until lunchtime.

  Kateri pushed back a strand of black hair from her face and surveyed her work. She had spent most of the day re-organizing the kitchen: removing books, papers, toys, and Oriental weapons from the cupboards and thinning out the kitchen materials to what the family actually used. She tried hard not to be disgusted at the amount of junk in the kitchen. My family is just as messy, she said to herself. But by golly, I’m not going to have a kitchen like this when I get A Fairy Tale Retold 35

  married. It was another point against Alex. Surely, living with him would eventually produce a kitchen as cluttered as this one.

  The two younger boys, covered with dust, yelling and sweating, had returned for lunch, which Kateri made them eat at the table in a civilized manner. They seemed to be intimidated enough to avoid her afterwards. Now that the afternoon heat had settled on the suburbs in earnest, the boys were engrossed in a video game while an ancient air conditioner roared away in the living room window. When Kateri finished putting the last promotional mug into an overflowing box marked “giveaways,” it was shortly after three o’clock, and Alex had gone to the store for his mom. Mrs. O’Donnell sat on the couch next to the air conditioner’s blast, her eyes closed, her fingers moving on rosary beads. Kateri didn’t want to disturb her. So she escaped to her dojo bedroom and sat on the bed, thinking about Alex and why she had started dating him.

  Kateri liked to think of herself as a person with high ideals. Whenever she imagined being married, it was usually to someone like herself: an activist, a missionary, someone who worked the land, or at the very least, someone Asian.

  That was an accurate description of her former boyfriends, who had been friends from the Vietnamese Club, or practical, hands-on farm boys, or dedicated pro-life activists. They’d mostly been thin, earnest guys: short-haired, good workers, more inclined to pick up a book by Fr. Paul Marx than a sword.

  In her list of qualities of a future spouse, physical attractiveness was very low on the list—if it had even made her list at all. So it was utterly frustrating to her that the first thing she had noticed about Alex was that she found him appealing.

  Not handsome, not good-looking, just very…appealing.

  He had first caught her eye when he and some of his roommates were climbing trees on campus. He had been wearing a sleeveless shirt and had thrown himself up on a branch above his head and swung up as easily as a cat.

  As a farm girl, upper-body strength was something she tended to notice and appreciate.

  So she had noticed him. End of story.

  Of course, she hadn’t liked him. Given his tattoos and long hair, she had assumed he was a biker-wanna-be, shallow and immature. Then, later on, when she knew him better, she still thought he lacked drive and character. But all along, she couldn’t help noticing how her skin prickled every time he walked near her, how she was always aware of what he was doing in a room, even if she didn’t want to be, how her eyes kept being pulled to him as he raced around campus with his friends from Sacra Cor dorm. It was extremely aggravating, and he was source material for not a few sessions in the confessional.

  At that point in Kateri’s life, Alex O’Donnell was just a distraction—a very physical distraction, and hence, annoying.

  In any case, he hadn’t picked up on her attraction. She kept him at arms’

  length and whenever they crossed paths, she made sure she found a lot to criticize about him. And he returned the favor. So it was astonishing to her that when she had found herself embroiled in a dangerous situation, it was Alex who had stepped up to the plate to rescue her. That was the first time she guessed that maybe he had been pretending to be disinterested as well.

  Of course, they both kept on playing the game of cool disdain, but eventually they realized that it was a game without a point. When their friend Rose was in dire trouble, saving her life had created a state of affairs where Kateri and Alex actually had to put aside their differences in order to work and strategize together.

  And when it was all over, and Rose was safe, Kateri felt it was only fair to catch Alex alone to thank him for his courage and thoughtfulness and to admit she had misjudged him. That was all she had intended to do.

  So at some terribly early hour of the morning after that adventure had ended, Alex had driven her and their friends back onto campus. He had dropped off the others, and finally parked his car outside her dorm, and, gentleman-like, escorted her to the door. She had discovered that was the difference between Alex and most bikers—Alex had impeccable good manners when it came to girls.

  And Kateri, who had rehearsed her compliments in the car, found herself tongue-tied as she turned around to face Alex.

  “I just wanted to say…” she began, and realized that Alex was looking at her with a curiously intense look in his green eyes. But he said nothing.

  She swallowed, and tried again, “I wanted to say…”

  He just kept looking at her quietly. She looked away from him, up at the sky, and realized that the stars were shining down on them, as though the angels had cued the lights. Hurriedly she glanced back at him, and that was no help. He was still looking at her with that intensely interested gaze, not saying anything.

  And now, she found she couldn’t look away.

  “…thank you?” Absurdly, it sounded like a question.

  Alex took a step closer to her, and she found herself moving closer to him.

  And the next thing she knew…

  Um, well…

  She had never thought of herself as a swooning heroine, but she came pretty close that night. And Alex certainly didn’t seem
to mind that she had melted like chocolate in his arms. But it was irritating for Kateri just the same.

  rom her point of view, marriage should be based on practical considerations, like compatibility and temperament and friendship. Well, sure, she was friends with Alex now, but she had always heard that a relationship that started out with passion was destined to fail. She was skeptical of romance novels, and now that she seemed to be trapped in one, complete with a swashbuckling and witty hero, she couldn’t help feeling that she was miscast.

  For one thing, she wasn’t pretty, let alone beautiful. Strong, tough, idealistic, truthful: those were the words she reached for when she thought about herself—

  not a quivering, feminine mass of nerve endings who was willing to forget about her ideals for a set of marvelous biceps.

  It wasn’t that she disliked Alex—it was just that he didn’t match up with the kind of guy she had always visualized she would marry. And she didn’t know if she should stick to her original ideas or change the picture to fit reality.

  Finally, unable to find her way out of the maze of her conflicts, she threw up her hands, and decided to check her email.

  A bit guiltily, she took her little blue laptop from her backpack. It had been a graduation present, the first computer she had actually owned. Kateri didn’t like to be dependent on electronic equipment. For most of her life, she had distained the virtual for the real. The laptop represented a compromise with modernity that part of her resented. Compromise? Was this going to be the new theme of her life?

  She booted up her email program and checked her inbox. After the usual routine of deleting junk mail and organizing her folders, she went to her Facebook and began to write a note to her parents, saying she had reached the O’Donnells safely and things were fine—when it happened.

  An animated cat, dressed in samurai clothing with a headband, jumped right onto the screen in front of her letter, brandishing a Japanese sword. A bubble appeared over his head with writing:

  Can I Haz Swordfights?

  Kateri stared incredulously at the supersized anime figure that was hovering in front of her text, blocking her view of the Facebook page.

  “What the—” She tried to click around it, but the cat sprang into action, hitting her cursor so that it pinged off the sides of the screen crazily. She hit the ESC key, the CTRL-ALT-DEL keys: nothing. The little monster had completely taken over her computer. It even laughed at her as she hit the keys.

  De Kitty Wants Swordfights.

  U R Giving Me Swordfights NOW.

  Emitting a yell, she grabbed her computer and shook it, then dropped it into her lap and stared at the anime cat again. It was still grinning at her and posturing with its sword.

  Can I Haz Swordfights?

  “How do I fight you?” she exclaimed.

  “Click on its sword,” David advised her, sliding next to her.

  “Use the space bar too,” Sam said, coming up the steps behind him. “I love this!”

  “Did you two do this?”

  “Us?” David said, his eyes fixed on the cat. “Nah, Dad built him. He’s the most highly detailed override security program ever made.”

  “An override security program?” Kateri shouted.

  “Yeah, he’s our network security guy,” Sam said. “We have wireless internet, and Dad was trying to secure it so that no one else can get onto it. Most security systems have popup boxes. Dad built this guy instead. The neat thing is, if you can defeat him, you can use the Internet. Otherwise he boots you off.”

  “But I was on the Internet!” Kateri said, as the cat threw its sword rapidly back from hand to hand with a fierce grin.

  “Just like the guy in Indiana Jones,” David said happily. “I love it when he does that.”

  “Yeah, he’ll let you use the Web for five minutes and forty five seconds,”

  Sam said. “But then you have to fight him. Come on, fight him, Kateri, fight!”

  Conned into playing a video game. Of course. This would be Alex’s house.

  Snarling back at the cat, Kateri grabbed her mouse from her backpack and plugged it in. “What do I do again?”

  “The cursor is your sword… so…what do you do with a sword?”

  “Um. I don’t know. Cut his throat?”

  David shrugged. “That’s a start.”

  Figuring this should be simple enough, Kateri aimed the cursor onto the cat’s throat but the cat easily deflected it, sending her cursor bouncing. She managed to control it with the space bar (Aha.) and tried again. She couldn’t get the cursor anywhere on the cat without hitting the cat’s flashing silver blade.

  “Go for his feet,” David advised.

  After a few seconds of fruitless effort, Kateri was reduced to banging the mouse on the side of her keyboard. The cat complained,

  U R Doin It Wrong!

  “That won’t do anything,” Sam said. “Believe me, I’ve tried. Neither will breaking the mouse.”

  “How do I get this thing to leave?” Kateri demanded.

  “Well, come on,” David said. “You’re Alex’s girlfriend. Don’t you know how to swordfight?”

  Swordfight? Kateri blinked at him. “What are you talking about? I’m his girlfriend, not his sparring partner.”

  “I thought Alex always taught his girlfriends to swordfight.”

  “He didn’t teach me. I’m a pacifist.”

  “Well, that’s dumb,” Sam said. “What do you want to be that for? You could be learning a valuable skill. For free.”

  “Because killing doesn’t solve problems,” Kateri said.

  “Um, yeah it does,” Now David stared at her. “I mean, it doesn’t solve every problem. But it solves some kinds of problems. Like, it stops bad guys from killing weak people. The neat thing is you don’t even have to kill the bad guys to stop them, just threaten to kill them. Don’t you know that? I thought you graduated from college.”

  “Magna cum laude,” Kateri growled.

  “Well, then you should know about this stuff by now!” David said.

  “David!” Sam was elbowing him. “David. Shh. She doesn’t have a job. She hasn’t gone out into the real world yet.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” David focused his attention back on the screen. “Hey, Kat, shaking the mouse back and forth isn’t going to do anything. Try swooping it.”

  “What’s going on?” Alex appeared at the foot of the steps. “What are you doing, Kateri?”

  “Reconsidering my position on taking human life,” Kateri looked up and met his eyes. “I’m about to make two exceptions. Maybe three.”

  “Boys, what have you been up to?” Alex climbed the steps and looked over her shoulder. “Oh! Our little samurai security cat! Isn’t he cute? I love it when this happens to guests.”

  “Uh, Alex. I wouldn’t goad her. She’s nearly catatonic,” David said.

  “And she doesn’t know how to swordfight! What’s up with that?” Sam said.

  “I thought this would be a cinch for any of your girlfriends.”

  “Let’s not get into my dating history,” Alex said. “Kateri, just swoop your mouse from side to side as though it’s a sword blade. No, not so jagged. A little more graceful. That’s it. Use the side of the screen for practice. Try diagonal—

  you’re getting it! Okay, now go in at a right angle—there you go!”

  The cat staggered to one side, blood flowing from his shoulder.

  “Yuck!” Kateri exclaimed.

  “Realistic, isn’t it? Okay, go in from the other side, diagonal again…”

  Another swoop, and the cat staggered back.

  Ouchay!

  “Don’t worry, you don’t have to kill him. Just wounding both sword arms will do it,” Alex directed. “See?”

  U Giv Me Good Swordfight!

  U Can Has Interwebs Now.

  The cat sheathed its sword and made a deep Oriental bow, then vanished.

  The three brothers cheered.

  “You have won the privileg
e of using the Internet in our home,” David said ceremoniously as he rose. “Please resume your browsing pleasure.” Cackling, he turned and hurried downstairs.

  “See why you need to learn how to swordfight?” Sam said. He raised a finger.

  “Lack of effort is not a virtue,” he said in a deep voice that was obviously imitating his father’s. He turned and followed David.

  Alex leaned against the stairwell wall, smiling. “So you’re reconsidering your pacifism?”

  “Reconsidering a lot of things!” Kateri grabbed her laptop and scrunched herself into the corner of the bed.

  “Aw, come on Kateri, don’t be mad.”

  For an instant, Kateri flicked hard eyes at him over the screen.

  “Want some pistachios?” he held out a bag. “I got them just for you.”

  She ignored him.

  “Ka-ter-i,” He stretched out her name, cajoling. “Come on! That wasn’t even a very hard fight! You should see when Dad is actually controlling the cat.

  Then it’s really hard to beat him. I once fought that thing for forty-five minutes while you were waiting for me in a chat box.”

  “What? You mean that one time at Christmas when we were chatting on the Sacra Cor website, and suddenly you vanished?” She remembered that incident. She had been waiting at the keyboard, wondering what had happened, getting occasional messages from him that said, “Tech problems!” When he finally returned, he had just said that they were having network security problems at the house and they resumed their serious conversation.

  “You should have been here,” he groaned. “The whole family was downstairs at Dad’s computer, cheering him on while he fought me and I sat up here trying to reconnect to the internet. He made me defeat the cat no less than seven times, while Mom and the boys shouted, ‘Go Dad! Go Dad!’ That’s the last time I ever buy my parents Tequila for Christmas.” He made pathetic eyes at her. “So I’m a victim, too.”

  She couldn’t help grinning at the picture of Alex so disoriented. “I guess that’s what happens in this household when you start dating someone.”