CHAPTER FOUR
Seth looked up at the sound of his own name, then switched his gaze to Staci. “Oh hey,” he said, with a trace of a smile. “Welcome to the place where the ‘old school’ is the ‘only school.’ I actually had to write physical letters to ‘Captain Crunch’ to get his arcane dialup secrets.”
Staci looked at him, bewildered. “What does cereal have to do with computers?” she asked, feeling as if Seth had just left out the entire first half of a series and launched her straight into the middle.
“Oh, you will learn, young Padawan,” he intoned, making a mystical pass with his left hand. “You will learn.…”
“Don’t mind him,” said the Goth chick, with a shake of her head. “He likes to pretend he’s the reincarnation of Clifford Stoll, even though Clifford Stoll isn’t dead yet.”
“Who?” Staci asked, now completely lost.
Seth smacked the back of his hand into his forehead, theatrically. “There, now, you see? That is how completely the rest of the world has passed us by!”
The Goth girl snorted. “Like going to Crossroads Mall doesn’t tell us that. Come sit down. We aren’t all completely crazy. I’m Wanda. I’m only slightly insane.”
The blond kid unwound himself from the girl he was sitting with, standing up with his arms wide. “Don’t mind them; they’ll be at this for hours if we let them.” He held out his hand. “My name’s Jake.”
Staci shook it, gingerly. “I guess you guys already know who I am…” she said tentatively. It felt…weird. But then everything about this town felt weird.
“Like Tim said, you’re Staci, right?” He let go of her hand, turning partially towards the rest of the group. “The odd couple is Seth and Wanda. Red over there is my girlfriend, Riley.” Riley waved from the loveseat, smiling warmly. “If you want, you can sit with us, grab some coffee. You might need it once Seth builds up some steam talking about modems. Or Star Trek. Or Star Wars. Or Doctor Who, or—”
“Oh, like I’m the only one that carries on!” Seth was blushing slightly. Staci smiled sheepishly, moving towards the coffee bar while the group continued talking with each other. Once she had her cup of joe, she noticed that they had pulled another of the comfy chairs up, making space in their circle. She sat down, folding her legs under her in the chair, while she blew on her coffee to cool it.
“So, you’re new to town, from New York right?” That was Riley; she was holding a truly gigantic cup in her lap; it looked like some sort of tea to Staci. “I’m guessing you didn’t move here for the scenic ocean view.”
“It’s kind of a long, depressing story.” Staci stared into her coffee, feeling her face flush. The others seemed to get the hint; Seth was the first to speak, breaking the silence before it could get uncomfortable.
“Tim said that you need some help getting hooked up to the net, right?” He cocked his head to one side. “In that cable doesn’t exist, there’s no possibility of cell-net, dialup is all you get. Are you on a laptop or a desktop?”
“Laptop,” she said, a little more certain of her ground. There wasn’t any accusation or hostility when any of them asked her questions. They actually seemed genuinely interested.
He nodded. “Good, pretty much all of them have a phone jack in them. So all we need to do is hook you up to a dialup service. Fortunately there actually is one that isn’t a long-distance number from here; it’s over in the next town. You got access to a credit or debit card?”
“Yes—”
Seth didn’t wait for any explanations. “Awesome, that’s usually the big stumbling block. Twelve-fifty a month, I’ll come over whenever you want, set you up.” He sighed theatrically…and to catch his breath. “Obviously, nobody ever has to worry about exceeding their download limit on dialup, so it’ll never be more than that.”
Since one of the first things she was going to do would be to email Dad that she was getting Stone Age net, well, this was a whole lot less than her cell per month, so she doubted he’d blink twice. She nodded.
“Don’t start giving her the scenic tour of gimp-net until you’re sitting down at the lappie, Seth,” Wanda said, before Seth could start up again. “I don’t suppose you’re into RPGs?”
“Or console games?” Jake said hopefully. “Or better yet, both?”
“Uh—” She knew what console games were, though she’d never done anything but play Facebook games herself. But…RPGs? “I don’t really have much experience with any of that. But, I’m willing to learn?”
“Good attitude,” Wanda said approvingly. “Look, here’s the deal. There’s not a hell of a lot to do around here. You can get together and watch DVDs. The movie theater is a joke; by the time it gets anything, it’s already out on DVD. If you’re a skater, there’s a parking lot…and whatever you can sneak to before the cops run you off. Have you seen the Burger Shack?” As Staci made a little grimace, Wanda nodded. “Yeah, you get it. So unless you happen to get touched by the Gilded Hand of Fate and the Blackthornes decide you get to be a hanger-on with the Elite crowd, there is not much left. Too cold to swim. Not enough wave to surf. Fishing around here is a job, not a sport. Nobody much who’s our age can afford a car, and since most people work here in town, a lot of adults don’t bother either. The school does nada for the kids, nothing in the summer because all the teachers have summer jobs at the cannery, and even in the school year they never have dances because there’s no money for them, and we lose every football or basketball game we play.”
Staci looked at her in disbelief. “That doesn’t sound possible—it can’t be that bad!”
“We’re that bad,” Riley assured her. “We get our own kicks, enough to make this place survivable. If you like fantasy or horror or sci-fi, you might like RPGs. They’re kind of like improv plays.”
“With dice-rolling,” said Jake.
“And heck, if you don’t like those, there’s mystery RPGs, and historical RPGs, and steampunk RPGs, and military RPGs,” Seth added, with enthusiasm. It was pretty clear now who was the “RPG expert” in this group. “Even superhero RPGs and an anime RPG. I’m pretty sure the rest of us would be open to trying those if that’s what you like.”
Well…she did like anime. “Maybe the last?” she said hesitantly.
“Great, I already have a copy of BESM still in the plastic,” said Seth. “I’ll scan and print up copies for everyone.”
She sipped coffee and occasionally added something as the others talked. They seemed like a fairly close-knit group. Usually whenever Staci had encountered anyone like them in NYC, it had been hard to be accepted as one of them. Every group had its own initiations. But not this one. They had taken her in as one of their own almost immediately. Maybe they were all kindred; they were outcasts in their own town, and she was an outcast from out of town. Her initial nervousness eventually wore off the more she talked with them, until—and this was the biggest surprise of all for her—she felt good, for the first time since she had arrived in Silence.
Staci had actually lost track of time when Tim rang a bell that was at the cash register. The others looked up with a groan, but Tim shook his head. “You know the rules, folks. This is your half-hour warning. We don’t need the cops hassling us again for you being out after curfew.”
“Curfew?” Staci said, aghast. “There’s a curfew?”
Jake shrugged his shoulders, grimacing. “Got enacted a few years ago. The cops have been pretty strict about it since it was actually a thing; bugging kids about being out too late is something for them to do besides sitting around bored, I guess.”
“On game nights, depending on whose house it is, sometimes the ’rents let us all stay overnight,” Riley added. “So there’s that.”
They all started to file out of the store after they had gathered up their belongings, each saying their goodbyes to Tim and each other.
“You going to get some sleep, Tim?” Seth was shrugging a heavy backpack onto his shoulder; Staci had seen earlier that it was packed with rulebooks for RPGs and board games.
“I only sleep every other leap year. Keeps me regular. Now git; I’ll see all of you when I see you.”
Staci was the last to leave the store, giving her thanks to Tim again for helping her out and just being nice in general. She was about to walk after Jake, Riley and Seth, heading for her bike, when she felt someone grabbing her elbow; Wanda, staying back behind the rest.
Jake turned around, looking for them. “You two coming?”
“We’ll be a minute,” said Wanda, answering for Staci. Jake shrugged, and continued on with the others. Wanda waited until he was out of earshot before she spoke again. “Look…” She scrunched up her face. “I don’t know how much to say without making you think I’m crazier than you already do…but there’s a lot that is not right about this town, and it’s not just the Magical Cell Phone Hole we’re living in. So…I’ll just say this. Keep your eyes and mind open, and your mouth shut, and if things start adding up in a funky way for you, come talk to me, because it can’t be any worse than the shit I’m already thinking. And watch your back. Seriously, watch your back, and don’t let on that you’re anything other than a drone or an airhead.”
Before Staci could reply, Wanda started walking quickly, catching up to the group. Staci followed her; once she was back with the rest of them, Wanda was chatting normally again. She had seen something in the girl’s face: real fear. Staci felt a very strong chill go up her spine. The rest of the walk was much like hanging out in the store; Staci said her goodbyes and traded contact information with everyone when it came time for her to split off for home. The rest of the way, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Wanda had said. Watch your back. Things aren’t what they seem. Somehow, as crappy as the house was (she couldn’t think of it as “home” yet, if ever), she was glad to get inside those four walls.
* * *
With the phone charged up again, Staci decided that for the foreseeable future, she actually had a schedule of sorts. Breakfast at the diner, because the food was edible and Beth was nice, and sooner or later they could probably figure out when and where they could hang out. Then up to Makeout Hill for as long as her phone charge would last. Then lunch either at the Burger Shack or the diner, and then to the bookstore. But today, she had one detour: combing the thrift stores for something that would make her stand out less. Maybe Wanda was crazy…but she still wanted to get some of that protective camouflage.
Beth’s advice about the thrift stores was useful, but the pickings were pretty thin. She was either going to have to do laundry loads every few days, or find another source for clothing. After going back to the house briefly to change—and getting a sleepy greeting from Mom, who was drinking coffee at the kitchen table—she headed back out to the Hill.
There was an addition she thought was kind of odd, since she had been pretty sure the thing hadn’t been there the last time. Lodged in among some rocks near that big tree was one of the creepiest lawn gnomes she had ever seen. Seriously, seriously creepy—if she ever saw a person with that expression on his face, she would just know it was a serial killer…and the thing even had a nasty-looking knife stuck in its belt. How could she not have noticed the thing yesterday? Her first reaction was to try and pitch it over the cliff, but it was wedged in there so hard it might just as well have been cemented in there, and she couldn’t even wiggle it. Finally she left it alone…but she had to go to the other side of the tree to sit, because it felt like the damn thing was staring at her.
Her phone was fully charged at least, and when she powered it on, it actually got three bars today.
But the results of getting a phone signal were…not what she had hoped for.
Okay, she hadn’t expected to get a flood of her friends going “Oh wow, that sucks so hard, move in with meeee!” but she also hadn’t expected fully half of them to unfriend her on Facebook either.
That…had been kind of a shock, actually, to look at her Friend List and realize it had gotten cut in half. She had actually sat there for a while, staring at the phone in her hand, feeling like someone had punched her right in the stomach.
The response from the rest had been pretty underwhelming. When they acknowledged her post at all, it had been on the other side of “I guess that must suck for you, now about me.…” And then they would rattle on about shopping, or a movie, or a date. It made her feel all hollow inside. Like…they’d already written her out of their lives.
And no emails from anyone but Dad. It was a delivery notice for the new mattress and sheets and things.
The phone seemed to drain down even faster than before. It was dead right after she read that email, and with that creepy lawn gnome on the other side of the tree, waiting for her, she didn’t even want to linger for a minute. On the way to the Burger Shack, she saw a couple more thrift stores and scored a couple more things.
When she got to the bookstore, Seth was there alone. “Hey!” he said brightly, as she walked in and said hello to Tim.
“Hey yourself…” She hesitated a moment. “Do you think there’ll be time to get me—”
“Net?” he finished for her. “Sure, I have everything I need on my lappie. Let’s go!”
Since he didn’t have a bike, they walked back to the house. Mom was, thankfully, already gone for the day. “Are you hungry?” she asked, as he got his laptop out and plugged the phone jack into the back of it, then set himself up on the sofa.
“I’m always hungry!” he said cheerfully, as the laptop began to make some weird noises she’d never heard out of a laptop before.
“I’ll fix you a sammich, and then I’ll get my machine,” she told him. She knew there was ham and cheese because she’d bought them and hidden them behind the pizza box. She brought him a soda and the sandwich; he thanked her absently, as he was doing…something…leaning over the keyboard and staring intently. She ran up, got her laptop, and came back down again.
“Okay!” he said, around a mouthful of sandwich, gesturing at the sofa. “Sit down, and get yourself signed up for the Stone Age.” She sat, and he put the laptop in her lap. The screen was…curiously barren. Really basic information and fonts, and next to no graphics…but there was a form to fill out, including her debit card information, and she followed it, picking a username and a password. Seth inhaled the soda and sandwich while she typed, and when she was done, she passed the laptop over to him.
“Okay, the next thing is, I am going to be doing a lot of messing around with your lappie,” he told her. “First, I have to turn a crap-ton of stuff off. Like, there is no way you’re going to be able to download updates. So updates will have to wait until you get somewhere there is wifi and you have a couple of hours to kill. Or until I get them, which will be when I get somewhere there is wifi and have a couple hours to kill.” He made a face.
“Is that a big deal?” she ventured.
He shook his head. “I’m going to give you an obscure browser in place of what you’re using, and nobody really targets it for viruses.” He pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket and began working. “Basically there is a lot of stuff that thinks you’re on broadband and wants to be connected all the time, and turning it off is a pain and hard unless you know what you’re looking for. Which I do.”
It was strange, sitting there in the silent house, listening to someone tap on the keyboard. She couldn’t remember ever not having music or something on. Or hearing people in the other apartments, maybe their TV or music, and street noises. It was really strange, hearing the house do random creaking noises, or a gust of wind rattling the glass in a window.
She got up and got Seth another soda, and leafed through a magazine she’d brought with her from the city. Finally, Seth was done.
“Here.” He plopped the laptop in her lap, plugged the phone cord into the back. “Double-click this—” he pointed to a new icon that said “Dialup.” “I’ve turned wifi off for now, otherwise your lappie will keep trying to find a connection.”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “I had to do that at home, otherwise it’d try to randomly connect to other peoples’ servers, and ewww. You never knew who was spoofing to hack your accounts.”
“Exactly!” he beamed at her, as if she had said something really clever. A box came up, and it was obvious where she was supposed to put what in for the new ISP. Her laptop immediately began to make all the weird noises his had, and she looked at him in alarm.
“No stress!” he told her. “The first was the dial tone, then the computer doing the dialing. Then the handshake signal—that’s your computer talking to the router at the ISP. Then the signal where it verifies your account. Then—” There was a sound like static that cut off. “—That was the clear signal, and now you’re in.”
He walked her through the really, really basic things he had set up for her. Flash was off. Most graphics were off. Email was this…well, it looked like a page of text. Facebook was barely possible, in an even more primitive version than was on her phone. “You probably won’t be able to shop,” he told her. “Most online stores need higher graphics than the connection will support. So what you need to do is get phone numbers and order catalogs. But hey, this is better than nothing, right?” He looked at her so hopefully, that she had to agree with him, but…it was kind of like trying to watch a movie on a TV where only a fourth of the pixels were working. Yeah, you got the idea, but it wasn’t…enjoyable.
But she thanked him as sincerely as she could, and the two of them went back to the bookstore. At least…she had people she could talk to now.
* * *
Three days later, she had given up on the trips to Makeout Hill. The texts from her friends had dwindled to a handful, and more of them had unfriended her. The only unsullied bright spot was the delivery of the mattress and goodies. Now, at least, her bedroom looked nice and she had a bed she could sleep on without ending up feeling like she’d slept on rocks. The featherbed had gone to rest on top of the equally bad mattress in one of the other three bedrooms upstairs.
Dad had sent her what had at first glance looked like a huge score, two enormous boxes of DVDs and CDs. But on closer inspection, they were all used, and three fourths of them were things she’d never watch or listen to. She had a pretty good idea that Dad had told Brenda to get movies and music, and Brenda had cleaned out a thrift store or three. She’d cherry-picked what she wanted, and left the rest in the boxes downstairs, only to find the boxes gone today. She had a pretty good notion that Mom had taken them for herself or to try to pawn for more beer money. Well, okay, it wasn’t as if it was anything she wanted, but now that she knew Mom had developed sticky fingers, she figured she’d better start locking her room when she wasn’t home. Which was depressing. You weren’t supposed to have to hide your stuff from your parents because your parents would steal it.
There were more of those creepy lawn gnomes around town, including one in the backyard of the house next door, and one in the front lawn of the house across the street. Where were they coming from anyway? And who would even want to buy one?
She was thinking about that as she browsed the bottom of a bookshelf at the back of Tim’s store, waiting for the others to arrive. Somehow, even without the Internet, Tim managed to get some pretty good stuff in. Maybe it’s all just someone’s idea of an epic prank. It wasn’t as if there was much to do here. Maybe someone had made the original, then made a mold so he could make lots of copies and was planting them around town to see who noticed and what they’d do. Kind of crazy, but bored people did crazy things sometimes.
The bell rang on the front door; Staci looked up, expecting to see her new friends. They had said they would be getting there around now. Instead…it was Dylan, still in his biker leathers. The way the sunlight streaming through the door hit his hair, it almost looked like he was wearing a halo. Once the door shut behind him, he turned to face Tim. Immediately, Tim’s face hardened. His entire posture changed; it was almost like he was ready to attack, or defend himself. Meanwhile, Dylan appeared nonchalant; a bit of a smirk, leaning against the wall next to the register. The two men were talking quietly; even in the relative silence of the bookstore, Staci couldn’t hear them. She didn’t want to eavesdrop…but she couldn’t help herself. Out of curiosity, she slowly walked forward, pretending to browse the shelves as she went.
“…I don’t care why you’re here. I just don’t want any trouble.”
Dylan cocked his head to the side. “Now, why do you think there’s going to be any trouble?”
“You know exactly what I mean. I want no part of any of it. Understand?”
Just then, Staci bumped her knee into the edge of a small table, letting out a yelp of pain as she stumbled forward. Dylan and Tim both stopped talking to look at her.
After a tense couple of seconds, Tim spoke. “I had forgotten you were back there.”
“I’m just waiting for the gang,” she said, and started to move back towards the coffee bar. “I didn’t interrupt anything, I hope…”
“Nothing important.” Dylan looked at Tim for a moment. “I think we understand each other.” As he turned and opened the door, he called over his shoulder. “Nice to see you again, Staci.”
Staci thought that Tim looked like he wanted to say something more, but Dylan was already gone. Before the door had closed behind him, it swung open again; her friends had arrived, all of them greeting Tim and talking amongst themselves as they made their way to Staci.
What was that all about? She could understand a cop hassling Dylan; so far, he was the only person she’d seen in this town that even looked remotely like someone who might be in a biker gang. But why would Tim go after him? And what was that about “not wanting any trouble”?
“That guy that was leaving when you came in—” she said tentatively to the others. “You guys know him?”
The other four looked at each other, then at her. Wanda was the one who answered. “He’s been around here for a couple weeks. I mean, he kinda stands out like a sore thumb in all the grunge and plaid, right? But I never talked to him.”
“He’s never been in here before as far as I know,” Seth added, and looked at the now-closed door. “I wonder what he wanted.”
The group began settling in their usual chairs, Seth pulling out some printed-out character sheets and rulebooks; they were supposed to “roll up” some characters for that anime RPG today.
Staci tapped Seth on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back, guys. Don’t get too far ahead without me.”
“Hurry back! I’ll wait on explaining the rules…but it’ll take awhile when we get started.”
Staci walked up to the front of the store, stopping in front of the cash register. Tim still had the same look on his face from when he was talking to Dylan; it only softened when he looked at her.
“Who was that guy?” she asked, trying to sound casual. “You looked upset.”
Tim just shrugged. “Some drifter. Didn’t exactly look as if he was going to be interested in books, and I don’t need money badly enough to encourage him to loiter. Didn’t he know you? He knew your name.”
She paused before answering. “I literally ran into him my first morning here when I was looking for someplace to eat. Mom isn’t exactly good about keeping food in the house. He showed me where to find the diner, that’s all. But the way you were talking to him, I thought maybe you knew him.”
“No, and I don’t want to,” Tim said shortly. “I know his type, and that’s all I need to know. Anywhere a guy like that goes, there’s always trouble.” He looked as if he might say more about what kind of “trouble,” but then decided to stop. “Look,” he sighed. “I’m not your dad or your big brother, Staci, so I’m not going to try to tell you what to do. But you seem like a good kid. Be careful around that guy. It’ll keep me from getting any more gray hairs than I already have. Okay?”
“Sure,” she replied, and went back to the others. It was odd, though. Tim didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who…well…judged people. Practically ordering Dylan out of his store seemed out of character.
But she put it out of her mind, once Seth started in on his game stuff. She’d never done anything like this before, and it took all of her attention to keep it all straight.