Don't Shoot The Harbinger
Page 6
I grew up in that house and they didn't even think of consulting me before making a life changing decision like that? I spent almost all of my life in that house. I got my first kiss in that house. I had sex for the first time in that house. I lost my teeth as a child in that house. I was potty trained in that house. I learned to ride a bike there.
Yet no one thought to ask me if I had any input?
“Yeah no problem Mom, I have a lot of stuff over there I haven’t seen in years, I ’d like to look through.” I told her.
“Don’t get all sentimental, most of that stuff you haven’t seen in fifteen years because you don’t want or need it, just help your Father move everything into the yard, I love you and I ’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
I knew she didn’t want me to actually help look for anything. She just wanted me to move everything out for her. I really don't mind doing it, I just wanted her to tell me that’s what she truly wants from me you know?
The biggest fault in the relationship I had with my parents was communication.
But I am sure that if you asked anybody they would more than likely give you that exact same answer.
Are children really supposed to have that type of open relationship with their parents where they can talk to them about everything? I feel like if I didn’t want all the details from them about their personal lives they probably wouldn't want to hear about me.
Which really isn’t true, any decent parent will always give their child more than enough time to hear about their day. But nonetheless I agreed to help my parents with the task.
I was sure there’s a gold mine of late nineties and early two thousand memorabilia in there. Plush toys, Yo-Yo’s, video games, pogo sticks, Pokémon cards, all the good stuff. I thought hell, this might be sort of fun after all.
I spent the rest of the day at work going back and forth between watching tv shows and assembling a slide show for the presentation. I knew that no matter what I presented to those people everyone was going to use the internet as they pleased.
People are going to get emails from Nigerian princes asking for money and they are going to open them. People are going to access restricted websites on purpose or by accident that lead to malware being installed on the computers. People are going to access their personal emails at work and their business emails at home. People are going to upload all of their credit card information on websites under the businesses network making them susceptible to a data breach.
These are all things that I have encountered a hundred times and nothing will ever change.
Chapter Seven
Megan is picking through some cheese and crackers as she intently keeps listening to what Blaine is telling her. This is one of the main reasons that he loves her, she is a great listener. Blaine can tell she is interested in everything he is telling her but she is waiting for him to get to the parts that would explain his most obvious faults.
“Try this pickled cucumber” she tells him as she reaches across the table and waves it in his face.
“I believe that is just called a pickle,” Blaine says as he takes a bite of it.
“Yeah but this is like a freshly sliced cucumber that’s been pickled, it’s different, it is so good. Sorry, sorry go on.”
Blaine continues telling her his story.
I finish my work day and I make the drive home to change into some clothes that I don't mind getting a little dirty. I have recently seen the inside of my parents garage and I know it's not going to be a clean task.
I think I picked out some sweatpants and an old t-shirt or something, anyway that’s not really important. I just didn’t want to ruin my good work clothes.
I get back in my car and I head over to my parents house. At that point it was only a mile or two away from me. Mother really wouldn’t let me live much further away from her. I remember that I stopped by a fast food restaurant on the way and ordered the smallest item possible, a small french fry I think it was.
I was not really hungry. I just needed a prop to bring with me to prove that I ’ve already eaten and a bag is perfect for that. I know that my Mother is going to ask me to stay for dinner and I am really not feeling up to it.
I get to my parents house and my Mother is waiting at the door just like she always is, it’s like she had some kind of sixth or seventh sense for when I was near. She comments on me ruining my dinner with that kind of junk food.
Mother wraps her arms around me and she pulls me in close for a hug.
“I missed you honey.”
She grabs me by the hand and leads me into the house. She walked me past the bathroom to the right as I entered and we turned left and she led me into the dining room.
“Get yourself a snack and something to drink. That junk food isn’t going to hold you over until dinner.”
She absolutely hated when I ate fast food, just like you do.
"Sorry Mother I was starving and I couldn't wait any longer." I told her.
"You knew I would be cooking, I 'm sure you and your Father will work up an appetite working out in that garage" she tries her best to guilt trip me.
"We'll see Mother" I tell her as I have grown to become immune to her little guilt trips.
I leave the conversation at that hoping that will be enough to keep her from pestering me for the rest of the time that I am over. I head out into the garage where my Father has been waiting for me and as I enter the door into the garage my Father hands me a beer.
“Thanks bud for stopping by, I told your Mother I was going to do this on my own but she thought you might want to look through some of this old stuff. She kept talking about how me and you need to bond more” Father tells me.
“I’m almost thirty, I think that ship has sailed at this point.”
They both share a laugh as they sip on their beers together.
“Damn the garage is a mess, how the hell did I let it get like this?” Father asks as he and I start walking towards a pile of boxes near the front of the garage.
Father and I are searching through everything in the garage while Mother is making dinner inside and cleaning up the house.
She occasionally peeks her head through the side door to the garage and asks us if we need anything from her. That is such a Mother thing to do.
“Are you boys hungry or thirsty? She asks us constantly.
“No honey, we’re fine,” Father tells her.
“No Mom, I’m fine.”
“Well if you need anything please just ask or come get it. You used to live here Blaine, don’t act like a stranger in this house” she tells me as she goes back inside.
“Are you staying for dinner tonight Buddy?” Father asks me.
“Probably not, I have a big work project I have to get done by tomorrow morning and I've really been putting it off” I explained to him.
“I don’t care but it really hurts your Mom's feelings that you don’t spend much time over here these days.” Father tells me.
“Can we please just sort through the stuff?”
“I know there should be more of my stuff in here” I say as I am throwing aside boxes labeled ‘Kitchen and Bathroom stuff.’
Just like I thought, I found a box labeled ‘Blaine’s room.’ Inside of the box are Yo-Yo's, playing cards, toy cars and a bunch of other small things I vaguely remember playing with.
I continue searching through some more boxes full of pictures, books and old clothes.
“No shit” I heard Father say to himself. “I wonder if this old thing even works still?”
I looked over at him “What did you find?” I ask.
“Isn’t this your old computer buddy? I remember when we first bought you the thing. You didn’t leave your room for days. You
probably spent 12 hours a day, everyday for ten years on that old piece of crap.”
I can’t believe it, I had so many good memories with that computer.
“I’m definitely taking this home with me.”
I pick up the computer modem and the keyboard and walk it out of the garage and load it up into the trunk of my car with plans on plugging it in, booting it up and looking through all of my old stuff on there later tonight after I get it all home.
Father follows behind me with the monitor, the mouse and all of the extra cords and hands them to me and I throw them into the trunk with the rest of the computer stuff.
“Blaine what the hell are you going to do with that old thing?” Father asks “I’m sure that thing doesn’t even work anymore, it’s been out here for at least ten years. Through all of the seasons, through the rain, through the cold, the heat, everything. You might as well just throw it away.”
“It might not but if it does I ’d love to see all of my old pictures, listen to my old music, and read through my old school work and I would love to just browse through whatever else is on there” I explain to Father .
“You are wasting your time buddy. But if anyone could fix that old thing I ’m sure it’s you. At least it’s something to keep you happy and busy for a little while” Father replies.
Father and I walk back into the garage and continue sorting through everything else that’s been rotting away in the garage. Father and I sort through what is going in the trash and everything that’s going to be sold and set everything out on tables in the driveway for my parents garage sale.
Mother comes out of the house to the driveway and thanks me and asks me to stay for dinner just like I thought she would but I make up an excuse as to why I needed to get home.
“I really can’t tonight Mother, I have a lot of work I have to get done tonight. There’s a big presentation coming up that’s extremely important and I really need to devote all of my free time to that today; plus I already ate.”
"All you had to eat was that garbage fast food, your brain can't function properly with that in your stomach. You need some real food if you want to do some real work. Fruits and vegetables, not just some deep fried potatoes and fruit flavored pops."
"I'm really not hungry, Mother."
I tell her that knowing that she really just wants to have me sit down with them and catch up, the food is just a means to an end. What I really want is to get home to look through my old computer and be left alone.
Part of me is secretly hoping that there might be some old sexy pictures of my ex girlfriends scantily clad and posing for me. Or maybe even some sexually explicit old email chains between us.
I wonder to myself, "Could I get in trouble if there's nudity on here? I know I 'm an adult now but those would have been taken when I was fourteen. If there is, am I some kind of pedophile?"
I quickly shifted my mindset from curiosity about seeing those old pictures and emails to dead set determination on getting rid of any possible evidence that could be interpreted as criminal materials.
“I promise you I will try my best to stop by again in the next few days. Maybe I ’ll come by and help out with the garage sale. When do you plan on having it? Or do you just plan on letting all of the stuff sit outside until the trash guys pick it up or the city fines you?”
We’re just gonna let people come by as they want and take whatever they see for free. We have no use for it, whatever doesn’t get taken we’ll probably just throw it away.
“Well then I guess it’s a good thing I already took all of the stuff out of there that I really wanted.”
My Mother kisses me on the cheek. “Please try to come by more often Blaine, you know we won’t be around forever.”
Father gives me a hug and I get in my car.
I roll down my window and look over at my parents. “I know Mother I promise. I will make it a point to stop by again soon and just hang out. I’ll call you soon.”
I roll my window up and I take off down the street.
I raced home and I couldn't wait to plug the computer in.
I must have been driving suspiciously because about a mile down the road I got pulled over by an unmarked police car. He turned his lights on and drove behind me for a few seconds before I stopped. He sat behind my car for five or six minutes before he got out of the car. I assumed he was just running my license plates. When he approached my car he signaled for me to roll down my window and when I did he had his gun drawn on me.
He told me that I was speeding, I ran through a stop sign and I made a turn without signaling. He asked me if I noticed the old lady a few blocks back crossing the street that I almost hit. I told him there was no lady and there was no way that he could have been following me that long because I had just left my parents house a few streets away. I wasn’t really paying that close of attention to him behind me though so I couldn’t be completely sure.
With everything that had been going on in the world with police brutality and innocent people being killed during meaningless traffic stops I wasn’t going to debate with the guy. So I kept my hands on my steering wheel and I just stared forward as the guy kept waving his gun in my face and berating me about how irresponsible I was. He took my license and went back to his car for another minute and when he came back he threw a piece of paper and my license at me through my window.
After all of that, I got a ticket for speeding, that’s still the only ticket I’ve ever gotten in my life to this day and when I went to court to fight it not only did the officer never show up they told me that there was never even an officer that worked there by that name.
Chapter Eight
Megan is still picking through the charcuterie board, picking up cheeses, fruits and different types of breads, looking at them and setting them back and her curiosity eventually has found her way to the escargot.
“What are these exactly?” she asks Blaine.
“Escargot. They are snails. Edible snails cooked in butter. They’re actually really good.”
She gives him a look of disgust.
“Just try them.”
She takes a bite of the escargot and Blaine keeps telling her the story as the look on her face turns from intrigue and caution to pleasant surprise and enjoyment.
Once I got home I set up the computer on the coffee table in my living room in front of the couch. I ran an extension cord from the wall to the computer. I hooked up the modem and the monitor and I plugged them in. I find the mouse and connect it to the modem and I pick up the keyboard, give it a shake and plug it into the back of the modem. I put the power cords in the back of the monitor and the modem and I plugged them into the extension cord I ran from the wall.
I press the power button on the monitor and the modem and the modem takes forever to load up. The screen turns on almost immediately and that gives me a load of hope that all of this may still work properly.
The modem begins making grinding noises and weird beeping noises he’s never heard before and the fan kicks on. The fan is running extremely hard and fast, probably because of its age and due to the fact of how long it's been sitting around unused in the garage open to the elements.
The loading screen comes up and I click on my profile, I click log on and just like that my home screen comes up.
I stand by for a minute or two while all of my old desktop items and folders begin to load.
“I can’t believe all of the stuff is still here!”
I locate the icon labeled ‘My photos’ on my desktop and click on it. I browse the folder thoroughly making sure there's no underage nipples, butts, panties or anything that could possibly earn me a prison sentence.
Nothing vulgar, nothing explicit, nothing pornographic, it's safe, I am a little more relieved now.
I continue looking through all of my old music and video files. Senses Fail, The Beautiful Mistake, Brand New, Silverstein all of my old favorites are still there.
I am hit by a huge wave of nostalgia as I flash back to being a teenager sitting in chat rooms all day listening to my old favorite song ‘Light A Match For I Deserve To Burn’
Right on my home screen I see a shortcut to my old favorite Instant Messenger pr
ogram. I clicked on it and all of my old login information is still there.
XxBlaineDamage88xX ... what a stupid messenger name.
“There is no possible way that all of this can still work” I think to myself.
I click login and nothing happens.
“That’s because your old computer didn’t have Wi-Fi right” Megan chimes in.
“Exactly” I tell her.
So I sort through my closets looking for an Ethernet cord that I can run from my router to the computer, luckily I had about ten of them just lying around.