Colt O'Brien Sees the Light

by George Cole

  “Mom and Dad started pounding on me on the ride here, so I know what they want. But with Staci, I don’t know and I don't care. Chicks, what a pain. Except you, of course. We were together for years and now it's like she wants to control everything.”

  "I hate to tell you this, but she was always that way."

  "Yeah, but I could always dodge her when I wanted to before. I just got fed up. I'm done with her," said Colt.

  “I think if you didn’t spend so much time on computers it would be a lot better. You gotta have other stuff goin' on, too. Time for me to go. Love ya.”

  The siblings hugged.

  “Bye Sis. I love you, too.”

  Kelly loped across the field and was soon gone.

  Colt walked back to the car thinking about the growing list of things to deal with. No way I'm going back with Staci. I'm sick of her trying to control everything I do. I need to forget all this crap. It’s driving me nuts.

  Colt smiled as an inner light bulb blinked on. I know just the thing to loosen me up. Time to forget about this crap.

  Chapter 7

  ------Email-------

  From: O’Brien, Colt[ColtOB@yahoo.com]

  To: Jones, Bobby[bobbyj@yahoo.com]

  Subject: Let’s meet

  --------------------------------------------------

  Boberto

  Let’s meet at the club for rball. How about 9am sat. I need to get sane. We can talk about the little nerds and the computer stuff too.

  ------Email-------

  The two friends, covered in sweat, played with abandon. Colt, the shorter of the two, moved with grace, quickness and tenacity. Bobby, a head taller, but not as quick, still managed to keep up. He was helped by his strength, experience and that the enclosure was small allowing him to reach with his long arms and legs. The small, blue, rubber ball flashed around the racquetball enclosure, causing reverberating echoes. Colt yammered constantly adding to the bouncing sounds. He teased, cajoled and screamed at his friend Bobby, who was concentrating like his life depended on every shot. The two friends complemented each other. Colt was a leader with confidence and a healthy competitive nature. Bobby was steady and even tempered. He lived his life according to the rules. No rocking any boats for young Mr. Jones. Colt took risks while his friend played it as safe as possible.

  Bobby’s mother once said of her only child, “Does my little boy ever even think about being a little naughty? It's like he was born a grown up.”

  “He'll make us look like perfect parents, even if he does bore us to death,” her husband replied.

  Bobby shuffled toward the right wall and waited for the blue blur to come to him. He squatted and hit the ball just above the floor. His racquet struck the ball on the sweet spot. It moved so fast that Colt did not see it until it was rolling flat on the floor, the result of a perfect, un-defensible kill shot.

  “That’s game,” said Bobby.

  “Dude, dude, no way! You aren’t good enough to beat me. Are you sure you got the score right?" yelled Colt with his hands thrust out.

  “Don’t get into your act, man. You know I won. It’s all tied up. Are you ready to stop or what?” Bobby replied.

  “Quit? I don’t think so, Bobbysoxer. I’ll beat you, even if you do get creative with the score.”

  Colt had fire in his eyes, but smiled as he turned away.

  Bobby’s body tensed and his face reddened. “Creative? That’s bull! You keep score then! You keep score! Let’s see what you’ve got, Colt. I’m ready. Bring it on!” he yelled.

  Colt won the final game as he had expected. He poked a weak spot in his friend's defenses and gained an edge. Nothing could make Colt happier.

  Oh dude. You fell for it. Man, you're soooooo easy.

  “Dude, dude. You lost your focus. How could that happen?” laughed Colt.

  Bobby looked at his friend with a hint of anger and respect.

  “You got me again. If you didn’t play those mind games, you’d never win.”

  The young men had danced this dance for many years. The relationship worked because each was comfortable with his own role. There was a special blend of character traits between them that manifested as true friendship.

  “Bobinator, let’s get latte’d up and you can tell me about this new computer thing,” said Colt.

  “After getting me so mad that I lost, you can buy,” said Bobby. He knew Colt was attempting to smooth out the emotional terrain after baiting him, yet again. The sting was almost gone, but he didn’t think that Colt needed to know that.

  ~~~

  The Burien Starbucks near the Athletic Club had opened doors for business a few months earlier. People were lined up in anticipation, waiting to order lattes, cappuccinos and other assorted coffee beverages. The little café had become a social center of this little town near Sea-Tac Airport, as had other stores in other towns across the Northwest. A sense of cool permeated the air along with the aroma of roasted coffee and assorted pastries.

  The friends ordered and after waiting for about ten minutes, grabbed their sugar-laced coffee drinks and found a place to sit. Colt spoke.

  “I’m really sick of getting pushed around. My parents think I'm slacking on the school stuff. My dad said computer guys are losers.”

  Colt felt a large release of frustration after expressing his feelings. Bobby took a sip of his steaming drink and looked at Colt like a school administrator or parent.

  “Hey, man. You need to get it together. I'm enrolled at Western for next year. Why not go there with me?”

  “I’m into computers, not more school. You know I'm sick of boring stuff. I want to do computer work and make money,” said Colt.

  “I want to make money too and have stability. My parents say no degree, no money. At least not that much money.” said Bobby. Colt realized he would get no support from his friend and decided to change the subject.

  “I see this is going nowhere. You sound like my mom and dad. Let's talk about something else.”

  “Hey man, it’s just common sense. I’m going to college first. What about the Staci thing? Is that really over after being together so long?” asked Bobby.

  “It’s done. She wants to control me all the time. And she's getting on my nerves. It took a while, but I’ve had enough.”

  "Man, you were together a long time."

  "I think she had our lives planned out for the next twenty years. Only problem is she forgot to ask me," said Colt.

  After impatiently waiting for the topic of conversation to move in the direction he wanted, Colt took charge.

  “So, tell me about this new computer class. Where did it come from?”

  “I talked to Jimmy Gruber. He tried it out. He said you study like a dog and then take tests. It’s some Microsoft thing.”

  “If he can do it, then it has to be easy. I love everything about Microsoft, but I’ve never heard of this,” said Colt.

  “Jimmy said it was harder than hell. He tried one practice test after wading through pages of stuff and totally bombed. He ran for cover, man. No way I’m doing it.”

  “What about those punk kids I saw in the Tech Lab? I bet it's like when the dad is a coach of the little league team and his kid gets to pitch. ” asked Colt.

  “It was started by two freshman kids and their dads. It must have been them. I guess one of the dads is into computers. Jim said he taught the classes,” said Bobby.

  “So, you're telling me that those punk kids have passed some of the tests? How could they if they're so hard?”

  “Uh, I think they have. Jim said that Mr. Towne thinks this will put Highline High on the map. He calls it High Tech Learning or something. They're getting some publicity already and a few kids are trying it. They hold classes wherever they can and there's a lot of self-study.”

  “What are the tests for? Why are they so hard?”

  “I think it’s for something called NT and network stuff. I don’t know much about that, just
Windows on PCs,” said Bobby.

  “Hey Bobster, we know computers. It can’t be that hard. I haven’t done anything with that either, but I can learn it. You'll be asking me for answers in no time. I'm still the number one computer guy.”

  Bobby leaned forward and looked directly at Colt with raised eyebrows.

  “I know you were the best, but it looks to me like the competition has arrived.”

  Bobby smiled inwardly as he saw Colt’s eyes change into piercing laser beams. He knew that Colt was frustrated that his world view was being modified by reality.

  “You have to know this is total crap. I bet the dads are taking the tests. How can some freshmen know more than us? You watch. This'll turn into nothing. Those little nerd wannabes will fade away.”

  “Sure, whatever. A lot of people think these kids are the real deal. Why don't you take a test and we’ll see what happens?”

  “Dude, I’m on it. They won’t know what hit them.”

  But, Colt was feeling a little queasy. His inner radar sensed alien objects approaching and sirens were clanging in his head. He had no answers to the numerous questions flashing across his inner landscape. Why is Mr. Towne into this? How can those kids be that smart? Why is it such a big deal?

  But, when he walked out of Starbucks into a soft, misty, rain, a logical inner voice told him that he was wrong about the new kids on the block and their certification program. He sensed that it was time to prepare for a big, big change.

  Chapter 8

  ------Email-------

  From: Sweden, Gunnar[gunman@yahoo.com]

  To: Carbon, Billy[billg@hocs.biz]

  Subject: Whats goin on

  ------------------------------------------------------

  billg

  studying for network essentials test. It’s all starting to look the same. i even have dreams where I see IP adresses. i must be getting smart

  gunman

  ------Email-------

  Two young boys sat at side-by-side computers with oversized video monitors. In the lower right corner of their respective screens, gaming nicknames of BillG and Gunman were displayed. With little effort, they typed, pounded and caressed the keyboards at the end of their fingertips. They both viewed different sections of the inside of a dark castle with corridors, doors, moats and multi-colored walls. Moving through the first-person-shooter game, they fired weapons at assorted, animated foes. Shotguns, grenades and machine guns were used as needed and changed often. Sounds rumbled through the bedroom as pixilated enemies were slain, only to have resurrected versions replace them.

  Gunnar Sweden, Gunman and Billy Carbon, BillG were in Gunnar’s upstairs bedroom in the Sweden home. Although the room was spacious, it was filled with computer equipment and stacks of books. At first glance it was difficult to know that it was really a bedroom.

  Gunnar, the tall dark-haired boy, yelled, “Get him! Get him! No, no back, too many of them. Get out. Ahhhh!”

  The smaller, brown-haired boy, Billy, said, “This is bad; dead again. Crap!”

  “It’s better with the two computers directly connected, way better,” said Gunnar.

  “I like team play. One on one gets boring. There’s a lot more strategy this way,” said Billy.

  The boys were avid, experienced computer game players. Like many of their friends, they began playing computer games early. Now, at age fourteen, both were skilled players and also knew how to install, configure and troubleshoot game software as well as troubleshoot and fix computers. The problems and idiosyncrasies that challenged even seasoned computer technicians were simple to them.

  Gunnar was now rapidly opening and closing different windows, using the computer’s mouse and keyboard. He moved through different web sites on the internet and then opened a small black window and started typing text at a frantic pace. His hands and fingers flashed in a precise rhythm as the computer responded to his commands. Occasionally, he pounded the Enter key, causing the keyboard to bounce slightly. He manipulated the computer like a smooth, rapid violinist.

  Billy interrupted.

  “GunMan, let’s get back on task. We need to work on our presentation.”

  After being ignored for a few minutes, Billy grabbed the other boy’s shoulder and said into his ear, “Hey!”

  Gunnar was awakened from his focused trance.

  “Oh, uh yeah, we need to do that other thing, don’t we?”

  The two young boys looked on as the first page of a PowerPoint presentation displayed on the computer screen. The title read “Windows NT Memory Model”. They dove into their next project.

  ~~~

  Matthew Carbon was talking naturally, but his voice boomed through the large living room on the main floor of the Sweden home. While their sons worked upstairs, the fathers discussed strategies and approaches for the new certification program. The sun shone through the large picture window which looked onto the Puget Sound below. Ron Sweden was trying to understand what Matthew was saying, but cringed from the booming voice of his partner.

  Ron moved closer to Matthew and quietly said, “Would you please lower your voice.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I get loud when I’m really focusing on something. Please let me know whenever that happens.”

  He concentrated and with a lowered voice spoke again.

  “In the computer business, everyone works together. There are too many things to know and one push of a key can make bad things happen. Teamwork is the best approach.”

  “I'm not used to that. In my job I do everything myself. I'm rewarded for being independent and spontaneous. This idea of working together, as a team, is a new concept for Gunnar and me.” said Ron.

  “This program is an opportunity for kids to help each other achieve something by working together. But, when it’s time for an exam they'll do it individually,” said Matthew.

  “You're the computer expert. If it's done that way in business then we should follow. So, how does it work?”

  “Everybody is part of the team; the kids, the parents and the school. The front-runners like Gunnar and Billy will help teach the other kids. Also, students can work in groups if they're studying the same material." answered Matthew.

  Ron grinned and nodded in understanding.

  “I’ll call the boys down and we can talk about their future.”

  Ron spoke with seriousness when he addressed the boys.

  “Mr. Carbon and I have been discussing goals and ways to achieve those goals. He tells me that it’s all done as a team. Mr. Carbon has a few things he wants to tell you.”

  “Already our little program is getting noticed. You guys are the first to pass any of the exams and are the leaders. I expect you'll be the center of attention, especially since you're so young. Enjoy your success, but stay humble. Always set a good example and do your best. Some people will want you to fail. Prove them wrong every time and do it with class. We're proud of both of you. We know you can meet the challenge.”

  Then Ron stepped in and addressed the young teenagers.

  “Mr. Towne wants Highline High to be a computing leader in education. You guys have started something big. As part of the High Tech Learning Center we'll have what we need to make big things happen. Our books and other materials will come from the school.”

  “So Dad, what do we do when the older kids start giving us a hard time? Some guys on the Tech Squad already think we're trying to take over,” asked Billy.

  “If you can help them with something, do it. Ignore them if they give you lip. If they start to push you around, let one of us know. Okay?” said Matthew.

  “Did you see Colt O’Brien give us the dirty eye in the Tech Lab? There is no way that he likes this,” Gunnar added.

  “Yeah, Flash doesn’t like anybody to know more than him,” said Billy.

  “Who is flash?” asked Ron.

  “That’s our nickname for Colt O’Brien. It’s because of his clothes,” said Gunnar.

  “I thi
nk we should recruit Mr. O’Brien. If he's good at fixing computers, then he might want to prove it. Let’s call him by his real name though. He might think that the little freshmen are making fun of him.” said Ron.

  “Okay, Dad,” said Gunnar. “Uh Dad, what is the High Tech Learning Center?”

  “It’s a program that supplies funding for different computer-related classes in member schools. Mr. Towne was able to get Highline into it and he thinks that we have the best class.

  Matthew said, “You guys do the work and help the other kids. We can handle the other stuff.”

  “Okay, Dad,” said Billy. “We only want to pass the tests and get certified.”

  Ron Sweden’s eyes sparkled at the boys, highlighting a huge grin.

  “This will be fantastic. All of your hard work will pay off, and you’ll have a great time.”

  Gunman and BillG smiled. They didn't know what to expect, but knew it would be great. Ron Sweden’s positive outlook and enthusiasm radiated into each of their young minds, promising success.

  Chapter 9

  ------Email-------

  From: O’Brien, Colt[ColtOB@yahoo.com]

  To: Jones, Bobby[bobbyj@yahoo.com]

  Subject: Getting pounded

  --------------------------------------------------

  my dad is totally pissed. this college thing has him ready to duke it out. Geez….

  colt

  ------Email-------

  Through a haze of disorientation Colt sensed that he was in the middle of a gathering. He couldn't see or hear anyone, but he knew they were there, bumping up against him. His eyes and ears were not functioning, but another psychic sense was feeling muted magnetic currents bouncing around him. I wonder why things are like this. Where the hell am I? It’s like they’re all around me but hiding. Colt gathered his thoughts and concentrated, but it was futile.

  Finally, as he relaxed, giving up on the idea of seeing anything, a blob of unfocused colors began to take form. The less he tried to make it into something, the clearer it became. Just before the transformation was complete, he recognized that it was a familiar face. It was Staci. Oh, no. I really don’t want to see her right now. Why is it her?