Friday Fiction: Zappy and I -- Part 3

: FINALLY! Bear's back for Friday Fiction, after more than a month of computer problems. And she's thanking the Lord much that things are up and running again -- all systems go!

Under the circumstances, it seems very appropriate to be featuring more adventures with that first Internet Computer of so many years ago... good 'ol Zapclunk.

So, onwards to our concluding episode of Zappy and I.

This final episode picks up just after Clicky, the keyboard, has succeeded in conning our heroine into trying yet another useless procedure to fix the computer's scanner and get it up and running... (Dealing with a rebellious, talking computer that has come to life, while trying to keep focus on a basic Christian walk in the midst, is turning out to be harder than one might expect...)

(NOTE: For those who missed the first episodes, Part 1 is available HERE, and Part 2 is available HERE).

Zappy and I -- Part 3

That night, I was back at my all-too-familiar post in the hall...

The keys clattered, giggling, "Man, did she fall, or what? Thinking I was helping her. Department store's Electronics Section!" It trailed off into helpless laughter.

"Yeah," whirred the disk. "Good job, Clicky! Like we don't know she listens at the door every night. Give me a break!"

I groaned quietly. They were on to me.

The monitor's voice trembled a bit, the glow of its screen dim. "Did you see her attack me? In cold blood, too. An inch to the left, and she would have gotten me right in the eye!"

"It serves you right, Greenie!" The disk whirred louder. "Now you got a taste of what it's like, huh? You won't be so quick to laugh next time she tries a reformatting, I'll bet."

"But I was doing my job! If she wanted to kill someone, why not go for Scan-boy, or Mr. Inky, over there? That's what I wanna know!"

Then a tiny voice I hadn't heard before piped up, high and squeaky. I had to turn my head and hold my breath to hear...

"Well, why don't you just tell her to turn on the other USB port in the BIOS menu? Then she wouldn't be so upset. Greenie's right. If you guys would just do your jobs--"

"Shh!" hissed one of the speakers, static crackling angrily. "Don't you know she's probably listening?"

"Whatever." The little voice got louder. "The BIOS. Check the BIOS! You have to turn on the other USB port. It's still turned--"

There was a sudden THUNK, and one last squeak. Then silence.

I charged into the living room and flipped the light switch. There on the floor was the mouse, flipped over on its back, still rocking like an overturned turtle in its shell.

I tenderly picked it up, glaring at Zapclunk's blinking red light. "You didn't have to hurt the poor little guy. BIOS, huh? We'll just see about that."

I gave the metal case a slight kick, even though I was sure they advised against that sort of thing in all the books, and stomped out of the room.

By the next morning though, I had grown suspicious of Squeaky mouse. I couldn't believe the manufacturer would actually sell me a new computer with parts of it turned off. What was the point of having two USB ports if they weren't even turned on? Who'd ever heard of having to tell a computer to turn on one of its ports before? This was probably just another setup. Squeaky had been acting and was in cohoots with all the others. I wasn't going to fall for that twice -- the old "sympathetic component" routine.

But as I went about preparing my breakfast, trying not to think about it, the word "BIOS" kept repeating in my mind... "BIOS", "BIOS", "BIOS"...

The stove's burner splattered and spit as oatmeal boiled over. I made a fast grab for the lid, pulling it off the pot, shaking my head. No, I wouldn't...

"BIOS", "BIOS", "BIOS"...came the mechanical whisper.

I leaned around the corner of the kitchen door and stared hard at Zapclunk.

But the red light was dark, and I remembered I'd unplugged him last night, after putting Squeaky back on his pad.

This was where it ended then. I was losing it. It had to happen, sooner or later, I suppose.

Grimly, I jerked the oatmeal pot off the stove, tossing a wet washrag over the spill... "BIOS"...

Turning off the burner, I stomped into the spare room and began rummaging through the drawer, looking for the manufacturer's manual. Ten minutes later I was scanning its pages, searching for all mention of the word "BIOS".

I don't know how I ended up on the floor... but minutes later I came to my senses, sitting there on the carpet, the manual still open in my lap. I read the page again (likely for the sixth time, at least).

It was true. It told me that the USB port might actually need to be turned on in the BIOS menu, instructing me how to do so.

The tiny little twerp was right.

Oatmeal forgotten, I followed the instructions step by step. It only took a few minutes. Then I held my breath as I hooked the scanner into the port, carefully checking its icon.

Yes... so far, so good. The icon was where it should be.

I sent up a quick prayer, once again centering a photo on Scan-boy's glass, and clicked the button, signaling Zapclunk to load the picture.

I couldn't believe it.

The scanner light was actually coming on.

Yes... The light was moving across the photo now. I stared at Greenie's screen in wonder as the picture of my dog and me slowly began appearing there, bit by bit.

Then with a yell I leaped up, throwing my hands high in victory. "It WORKS! IT WORKS! You were soooo right, Squeaky Mouse! It actually works!"

I know it was stupid...uncool... even downright lame.

I know I shouldn't have done it.

But it just occurred to me, as I was dancing around the room in joy, that "Squeaky" was not a very good name for a mouse that had saved the day. "Saved the day... Saved the day..." I thought.

"I should call you 'Mighty,' not 'Squeaky Mouse'." And the old cartoon intro popped into mind as I joyously burst into song about a flying mouse.

I think that's what did it.

Because it was then, just as the last sliver my dog's tail was appearing on the screen, fully loaded, and I was right in the middle of the second verse...

It was then Scan-boy froze, the picture disappeared, and Zapclunk crashed again.

Later, the landlord asked me quite a few questions about the whole thing... Wanted to know why he heard me yelling about mice clear over at his house (which is halfway down the block). Was worried that they had overrun the house... offered to pick me up some traps at the store.

Thankfully, by then, I had become quite calm again. I told him not to worry about a thing -- that I would take care of the mouse, all right. Told him trapping was too good for it.

He didn't know what I was talking about, of course. And I didn't fill him in.

As I said, he wouldn't understand.

That's when I reassessed strategy. Obviously, hiding in the hallway again wouldn't work. They knew I was listening. It had just been another setup, after all.

Stupid mouse!

So late that afternoon, I made a big show of starting up the Anti-Virus program, setting it to do a full system scan. Then, while Zapclunk was distracted, scanning for bugs, I looked at my watch in shock.

"Oh my! I forgot those overdue library books. And the library will be closing any minute. Silly me!" Grabbing a couple of random books off the shelf (I ended up with an old college algebra textbook and my classical music piano book), I tore out of the house.

I even leaped into the car and backed it out of the driveway, for added effect.

But when I got to the end of the block, I pulled over under the shade of a neighbor's maple tree, and quickly made my way back. Sneaking through the yard, I was careful not to step on any of the pine cones that lay hidden in the grass, not wanting their crackling to give me away. Finally, I reached the wall nearest the computer and flattened my back against it underneath the open window, hoping my elderly neighbor wouldn't call the police on me. (Her vision wasn't all it should be).

Sure enough, they were having a party in there. The printer was laughing so hard, in fact, it could hardly get the words out. "Mighty... Mighty... Oh, that's so good..."

There was a hurt sounding squeak, and then the voice so tiny. "Well, it should have worked. She must need a power USB hub. Mr. Disk's processor is so small -- I bet the USB ports are weak too -- bet they don't even have the power to run Mr. heavy-drain Scan-boy, over there."

Zapclunk's main fan grated, "Maybe Scan-boy does pull a lot of power, but you'll never have a chance to tell the tale. One squeak from you -- even one -- and--"

"Yeah," cut in Greenie, glowing so brightly the curtains actually turned slightly green, "Remember what happened last time. And we were going easy on you, shrimp. You landed on a nice soft rug that time..."

Sneaking away from the house, still feeling somewhat criminal, I headed over to the landlord's place to ask him what a powered USB hub was.

He explained, matter-of-factly, that sometimes the USB ports don't get enough power from the main computer to run some components, like scanners, that use a lot of power. So, in that case, you could buy a "hub" that has many USB ports on it. One end of the hub plugs into your USB port, and the other end plugs into the wall, pulling power directly from the wall to run the whole thing. Then you can plug scanners and other heavy duty USB equipment into the hub instead of the computer, and get power directly from the wall for them.

Suspiciously, I wanted to know why it didn't mention this in the manuals. And why hadn't he ever mentioned this to me before? (Not that I thought he and Zapclunk were conspiring together or anything, but still...)

He shrugged, saying lots of computers didn't need the power hub, and he hadn't known I was trying to run a scanner. So he hadn't thought of it.

To me, he seemed pretty casual about the whole business, considering I'd been driven to near nervous breakdown. But then, I'd never told him about that...

Anyway, I had a brand new USB hub plugged in and ready to test within a day.

There was no dancing this time.

I was calm and cool, my movements methodical, as I hooked the hub into the computer and plugged it in.

I watched quietly as the scanner copied the same photo of my dog and me, this time displaying it fully upon the screen.

The computer worked silently and efficiently, doing its job.

It felt eerie.

Zappy never spoke again.

Oh yeah... I call him "Zappy" now.

God changed Jacob's name to "Israel" after their struggle. I figured Zappy deserved as much. After all, we work together now, Zappy and I. True partners in spreading the Gospel for the Lord's Kingdom and glory.

Sometimes though, as I wake up late at night, I find myself listening, thinking I hear something. But it always turns out to be just a branch scraping against the window in the wind, or the sound of a distant car engine.

One night, rolling over in the darkness just before dropping back off to sleep, I wondered, rather sadly, what Zappy would say now if...

A scripture popped into mind from Ecclesiastes (3:1,7), "To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven...a time to keep silence, and a time to speak."

I smiled as I fell asleep, finally at peace.

The End.

POSTSCRIPT:

Bear would like to put in a few words here, just to set people's mind at ease. For the record, she has never actually attacked any of her computers with a pocket knife, or even kicked them, although she does feel that computers sometimes probably deserve such treatment, and admits to having had a few fantasies...

Zappy, although he turned out to be a great writing partner for years, was eventually retired some years ago, due to having such a slow processor speed that he was no longer able to handle Internet work. However, Bear is planning on pulling out his 20 GB hard drive for future use, before sending him on to a computer rest-home. So part of Zappy will live on...

But then, after this past month of dealing with more recent computer challenges, Bear suspects there's a bit of mischievous Zappy living in all computers anyway.

In fact, Bear thinks Zappy has many brothers and sisters...

And cousins and aunts and uncles...

And second cousins and third cousins and...

So don't be surprised if, when sound asleep and you least expect it...

You yourself wake up thinking you hear the sound of mechanical chuckles in the night.

Joanne over at An Open Book is hosting Fiction Friday this week. So be sure and drop over there as well, to find links to the whole selection of entries by Christian writers, and/or to add a link of your own and join in the fun! We all welcome comments and discussion!
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Bear's news and free multi-media Christian resources: Bear's Writing Den

FF: Zappy and I -- Part Two

: Bear's computer problems have continued throughout this week, both in fiction and in real life. Again, this story, "Zappy and I" is based on a struggle with an older computer, from years ago, and was originally written back then. The current-day struggles with Bear's current computer are what inspired Bear to pull this old humor piece out for editing and polishing. And it has been good encouragement for the Bear, throughout these past couple of weeks of current computer struggles, to do so. Helps give her perspective and a few chuckles in the midst. This week, Bear has had to reformat her current computer, only to find that it is a hardware problem rather than a software problem, and not correctable via reformatting. (The disk has bad sectors and is dropping files, decaying even as we speak, likely because of the cup of water Bear spilled on it a month or two ago, which shorted out the computer's cooling fan, which is causing the disk to overheat now that it's summery weather...) So she has a $125 second-hand desktop on order from eBay that will hopefully arrive sometime next week and bail her out. Meanwhile (because she's been working at computer troubleshooting so much this week), less of "Zappy and I" got rewritten than she had expected. So, rather than this being the full concluding segment, this following segment is Part Two, of what has turned out to be a three parter. And next Friday will bring the story's concluding segment.

So today's episode of "Zappy and I" starts out with our heroine in despair after reformatting Zapclunk and finding herself still faced with problems (surprisingly similar to current real life in some ways -- Bear may dub her current computer "Zapclunk Jr."). Dealing with a rebellious, talking computer that has come to life, while trying to keep focus on a basic Christian walk in the midst, is turning out to be harder than one might expect...

(NOTE: For those who missed Part 1, it's available Here.)

Zappy and I -- Part Two

Next afternoon, I was once again sitting at the computer, head cradled in my hands, in despair and frustration. I had the DLL files back. That part was OK. And most of the programs seemed happy to have them too, and were in a much more cooperative mood, having called off all strikes and past belligerence over the issue. However, after reinstalling the dictation program and trying it out, I was dismayed to be confronted once again by a frozen mouse and crashed program.

I sat there, debating whether to hit the reset button or not, knowing I would get lectured if I did; and knowing, too, that it was the end of that honeymoon period I'd hoped would stretch on for months, or even years, of having the disk totally free from any errors. I'd hoped I would never have to resort to that button again.

But there it was.

Sighing deeply, I leaned over and hit THE BUTTON.

After the screen's written tirade, which I did my best to ignore (studiously looking at the birds out the window until I heard the Windows startup music signaling the reset had completed), I tried out the dictation program again.

An hour later, another crash.

I didn't even bother with THE BUTTON -- just got up abruptly and headed for the bedroom for some privacy, to pull myself together.

This time there was no mistaking it... I heard victorious chuckling as I left the room.

The cat heard it too. A blur of orange and black fur streaked past me in the hallway. Throwing myself on the bed, face down, I didn't even bother to drag him out from under the nightstand.

 "My brethren, count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations; Knowing this, that the trying of your faith worketh patience.But let patience have her perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, wanting nothing" (James 1:2-4)

I know it seems ungrateful. But to be honest, patience wasn't what I wanted right then. I just wanted to be able to use the dictation program. Was this too much to ask? What was going wrong?

Then inspiration struck. A brilliant flash of insight just hit me out of the blue. I didn't know what was wrong, but Zapclunk knew. It was probably gloating about it at that very moment, in fact.  I could hear the ink cartridge on the printer zipping around, along with giggles and the clicking of keys... And the voices... Always the low murmur of very self satisfied voices...

I lifted myself to a sitting position and silently rose from the bed, totally back into marine commando mode. I was not beaten yet, by a long shot.

Taking up position at the entry way, I peered cautiously around the corner. Sure enough, they were yukking it up. The printer especially was practically busting its cartridge in mirth.

"Can you believe that? Did you see the look on her face? Was that priceless, or what? I tell you!"

A giggle mixed with static came from the speakers. "Please, stop! I'm going to pop my volume limit and hurt myself if you don't. I swear!"

The keyboard too was in hysterics, gasping between words, as its keys clicked at top speed. "Can you believe she actually reformatted the whole CPU? What a sucker!"

A grumpy voice responded with the whir of the fan. "Easy for you to laugh, dudes! My mind still feels fuzzy. I try to remember stuff, but there's still so many blank spaces. Next time she tries something like that, I'm gonna crash on her for good. See how she likes that!"

"Yeah," cut in the monitor. "But you didn't have much memory to spare in the first place, did you, Mr. Disk? Couldn't even keep three programs going at once. Little does she know how limited you are. Can't believe she keeps using that dictation program with other programs running at the same time. Doesn't she know how slow your little processor is?"

I heard a snicker, and the monitor's light glowed brighter, continuing, "Bless my pixels, you need an upgrade already, and you're not even a year old."

The whir of the disk took on a grinding sound. "Your pixels need a good blessing, Greenie! That screen of yours isn't exactly up-to-date either, you know."

But I lost interest in the argument at that point. Processor speed? Not fast enough to run so many programs? Could it be? Slowly, feeling a bit dazed, I made my way to the spare bedroom, where the programs' CDs were stored. Quietly, I slid open a file drawer, checking the dictation program's CD cover, reading the fine print for the first time.

Light dawned.

Greenie was right! The dictation program had been designed to work best on a computer with a higher processor speed than Zapclunk's.

I called my landlord to double check. He confirmed it, saying dictation programs really need to be run with as few other programs open as possible, because they use so many of the computer's resources... Yes, a dictation program can cause the computer to freeze up otherwise... But it would probably work OK for me, despite my computer's slow processor, if I used it without any other programs running.

I turned off the cell phone, a gleeful smile on my face. Problem solved. Ol' Zapclunk had let the cat out of the bag that time.

The next day, I tried it out, running the dictation program alone.

It worked! It didn't work great, and it ran much slower than I would like. But at least it was working. It hadn't frozen the mouse once.

The reset button remained unused.

I was thrilled.

I must confess, I gloated a bit about it too, and may have even let a few bars of "Ding dong, the Zapclunk's dead..." slip out as I mailed my first dictated letter off to a friend.

As a matter of fact, I was in such a good mood that I decided to try installing the scanner. It would be easy, I told myself, a huge smile on my face. Most likely, reformatting had solved the scanner problem, and I just hadn't found out yet, because I'd been too discouraged to test it.

Isaiah 41:10 popped into mind. "Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness."

"Yes!" I shouted, exultantly. (I liked that one a lot.) "Zapclunk, you had me a little edgy there for a while, but no more. You can't bluff me!"

Maybe that was my mistake. Maybe I shouldn't have gloated quite so much. Probably should have at least stopped humming what had become my favorite song... At least while I was hooking the scanner into the USB port.

And now I know it was going way overboard to try and hook the printer into the other USB again, at the same time. (Hindsight is always better than foresight.) But I was just so excited...

That night, I found myself again lurking in the hall entryway, this time silently reviewing Exodus 20:13, turning it over and over in my mind. "Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill--"

The printer's low voice interrupted my thoughts. "Hey, hey! I see I'm back to the regular serial port again. No USB for me! No siree, I say with glee."

"Give me a break," cut in the monitor. "You may be able to print poems, but please spare me. You're no poet, Inky."

The clicking keys broke in. "Do you all think you're being quite fair? She's not such a bad master, after all. It could be worse. We could be working by the cash register in a department store's Electronics Section, or something. If there's one thing I can't stand to be around, it's aisles lined with body parts. And they call those places "stores". Morbid... So morbid! Better be careful, Inky. If I were you, I'd tell her about the folder she was supposed to load your driver program update into. You too, Scan-boy."

I heard a mechanical snort and cartridge return -- zip. "Right, I suppose you want me to give her the page number in the manual on it, while I'm at it. No skin off my nose if she never finds out she loaded it into the wrong folder."

I grinned widely. So, the manual would tell me how to load the updated driver into another folder, would it? I rubbed my hands together as I headed back to the spare bedroom. This was better than the dictation tip, even. Clicky actually seemed to be coming over to my side. I'd have to remember to pick up a few old computer parts at the Thrift Shop next time I was in town, to put in strategic locations around the living room, just to help keep little Clicky's memory fresh.

After a bit of browsing through my main Windows manual, I did find instructions on loading driver updates into their proper folders. And it got me singing again, more quietly this time, kind of whispering, "Ding dong..."

The next day, I got to work moving the driver updates, following the manual's step by step instructions carefully. "This," I told myself, "is bound to succeed..."

I held my breath as I hooked in the scanner...

Then scanned a picture...

Crash! Zapclunk froze all functions again, deliberately doing its best to imitate deep coma.

By the time it revived (after my pushing the reset button), the scanner's icon was disappearing from its folder completely again, with what seemed to me to be a jaunty wave on the way out.

That's how the monitor ended up with the scratch in its plastic case by its top corner.

(After that, I made sure to leave my pocket knife in another room before working on the computer.)

That night, I was back at my all-too-familiar post in the hall...

The keys clattered, giggling, "Man, did she fall, or what? Thinking I was helping her. Department store's Electronics Section!" It trailed off into helpless laughter.

"Yeah," whirred the disk. "Good job, Clicky! Like we don't know she listens at the door every night. Give me a break!"

I groaned quietly. They were on to me.

The monitor's voice trembled a bit, the glow of its screen dim. "Did you see her attack me? In cold blood, too. An inch to the left, and she would have gotten me right in the eye!"

"It serves you right, Greenie!" whirred the CPU. "Now you got a taste of what it's like, huh? You won't be so quick to laugh next time she tries a reformatting, I'll bet."

Be sure to drop by the Den next week for the conclusion of "Zappy and I".  (And hopefully for the CONCLUSION of Mr. Zapclunk Jr.'s escapades, as well.)


Meanwhile, Sara Harricharan, over at Fiction Fusion is hosting Fiction Friday this week. So be sure and drop over there, to find links to the whole selection of entries by Christian writers, and/or to add a link of your own and join in the fun! We all welcome comments and discussion!
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Bear's news and free multi-media Christian resources: Bear's Writing Den

Friday Fiction: Zappy and I

: Bear is preoccupied with some serious computer problems this past couple of days, so ended up doing a rewrite of an old humor piece from years ago, to cheer herself up in the midst. This is Part I of a two parter -- Part II to be posted next Friday...

Zappy and I

It was late one night when I first heard them. I rolled over sleepily, thinking the murmur of quiet voices and occasional chuckles from the living room were part of a dream. Waking up more, I then decided I must have left the TV on. Grabbing my robe, I stumbled into the hall; then stopped, shaken.

A hearty laugh echoed through the darkened entryway.

Telephone, I thought frantically. Phone... 911... Where's the cell? But then I remembered I'd set it on its charger just before bed... In the living room.

Standing motionless in the darkness I listened, heart pounding. But the snatches of conversation sounded more like a group of mischievous kids than thieves set upon doing me harm.

What was this?

I dropped to my knees, feeling the carpet pile between my fingers, and stealthily crept forward. Reaching the entryway, I leaned hard against the wall and cautiously inched my head out until I could see into the room. My technique would have done Uncle Dan proud. He was always trying to teach me marine drills when I was a little kid. It had seemed pointless back then, since I was a girl and that was long before women were allowed in combat training. But you never knew when stuff like that would come in handy.

Like now.

I stuck my head into the room a bit more, staring, amazed. The room was empty. All looked normal. There was the computer on its desk, surrounded by all its components: printer, speakers, scanner, keyboard, monitor, mouse. The TV and DVD player on the other table were faintly illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the Venetian blinds and the dot of green light on the computer's CPU, which occasionally flashed a bit of red...

I heard another giggle.

Ducking back into the hall, I flattened myself against the wall, marine commando training back in full force. Had that been a red light on the CPU? I closed my eyes, trying to think. Why was the computer processing anything at this time of night? I hadn't left it with any scheduled maintenance functions to do.

I peeked around the corner again, this time focusing more, trying to make out specific words.

More giggles. Then...

"Did you catch her expression when I crashed the dictation program on her for the third time in one hour?"

"Yeah! Soooo funny! We both had to mute our volume output, just to keep from laughing out loud!"

A deeper voice cut in, "Well, how about when I jammed the paper, right after brother scanner made its icon disappear out of the Device Manager menu again. Was that timing, or what? I'm just thankful she didn't break me, jerking that paper out the way she did. And she claims to be a Christian. What a temper!"

I could hear the ink cartridge moving back and forth along the printer's carriage after this last comment.

Then the clicking of keys from the keyboard cut in. "Yeah, well how about when I jammed my sleep-button on her, and she couldn't get the monitor to come out of sleep mode? You gotta admit, that was a good one!"

Laughter all around. But I noticed it had a mechanical ring, the voices tinny and echoing. I don't know how I'd missed that before.

"Shhhh..." This was accompanied by the soft sound of the fan in the CPU. "You'll wake her up!"

I couldn't believe it. But my surprise was nothing compared to my indignation. What twerps! After all I'd done for them, too. And they were even criticizing my Christianity. Here I'd tried to meld them into a cohesive team, capable of being used as a united tool in God's kingdom for His work and glory in my writing... I'd given them a home... Saved them from life and emptiness on a warehouse shelf, and this was the thanks I got for it? I crossed my arms, fuming.

Why I oughta go in there and...

Before I could put action to my thoughts, Scriptures started coming at me right and left, popping into my mind...

"Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath..." (Eph 4:26)

"Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice: And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you." (Eph 4:31-32)

Was it sin to take out anger on computers though? Well founded anger it was, too! I brooded and debated with myself there in the hallway, their chuckles fueling the fire.

I oughta go in there and pull every plug from that surge protector! That'd fix 'em!

But this particular type of situation had never come up in Sunday School discussions at church. Still unsure, I reluctantly turned and padded back to the bedroom to mull it over and pray a bit.

Grabbing up my calico cat from where he was cowering and shaking under the nightstand, I sat in a chair by the window, hoping the beauty of the full moon would calm us both down. Having an Internet-able computer was a long awaited blessing. I reminded myself that I'd hoped, dreamed, prayed, and saved for this; and that naturally there would be challenges in learning a new skill. Though I felt I'd done well in taking the frustrations of the last few weeks in stride, and had tried not to let all the glitches, bugs, and small disasters get to me, my patience was definitely at the snapping point.

The new computer had seemed so wonderful at first. (Plus, I'd lucked into getting a brand new printer and scanner package -- two for the price of one -- off eBay, as well.) For the first day, everything worked according to my dreams. The USB printer was my first color printer, so was great fun. Fun that is, until I hooked up the USB scanner into the other port.

The computer didn't seem to like that, and after five minutes, closed it down, causing the scanner's icon to disappear from its file folder, as if it no longer even existed.

So I reinstalled the scanner.

Same result.

Reinstalled it again...

And again...

And again...

I didn't try to reason with the computer of course. After all, it was just a machine. Only crazy people talked to machines. But, after a few days of the scanner's hide and seek games, I confess I did end up having just a few words with it.

I told the computer, quite firmly in fact, that it couldn't have lost the scanner. It had seen for itself the scanner was there just five minutes ago.

But it seemed to be saying back to me, "Scanner? What scanner? I don't see any scanner. Do you see a scanner?"

It was almost as if I could hear it speaking to me. I shrugged off the illusion and continued doggedly onwards, trying intricate programming gyrations of various kinds to point out to the computer that it really was responsible to acknowledge the scanner. By then I had stacks of "how to" books about computers from the library piled all around me as I worked. But things just got worse.

After hooking up the scanner for the fifth or sixth time, the printer disappeared too. Suddenly, ZAP! The printer's icon no longer showed up in its folder and the printer refused to respond to commands.

After two more days of "troubleshooting" with no sign of success I got desperate and dialed the printer/scanner's technical support number.

The woman actually chuckled when I explained the problem, assuring me it was not their wonderful scanner or printer at fault. Perish the thought! It was my main computer's problem. She further assured me that downloading a software "patch" from my computer manufacturer's website would solve the problem.

So I gave the "patch" a try. But by then, wasn't surprised when it didn't work.

Finally I gave up and hooked my wonderful USB printer into the serial port with the extra serial cable that had come along with it (apparently provided for computers like mine who were prejudiced concerning USB's of any kind.)

That did give me a working printer, but left the scanner sitting there, next to the computer, useless. No extra cable came with it -- was USB only.

I told myself it was just my imagination that the computer was gloating over the whole thing. Told myself a scanner couldn't look smug. Told myself I was getting paranoid.

But then the dictation program started having problems. I'd been overjoyed to get it. Such a terrific program that could actually type the words as I spoke them into my computer's microphone. But over and over while using it, the mouse's cursor would freeze, refusing to respond. And soon after, the whole computer would lock up.

It was then that I first started having to resort to hitting the dreaded reset button on the CPU. Turning the computer off that way to let it reboot was an okay solution, except it was causing me psychological problems. All the books had warned me not to hit that reset button, except for emergencies, because it was supposed to be bad for the computer. The books claimed it would foul up the disk storage or something.

I didn't know much yet about computers, but knew enough to understand that the disk was key, and anything fouling it up sounded ominous indeed.

Plus, the computer would lecture me afterwards, each time I hit that button. The on-screen message would inform me that I'd closed the computer down improperly and that now the computer was going to have to run a test scan, and I'd just have to wait. The message also stated that, if I'd done it right I wouldn't have had to wait, and strongly suggested that I shut down the computer properly in future. Further, it also threatened me, stating that, because I'd been such an idiot, pushing the button, now my disk drive would likely have all sorts of errors on it. It didn't actually write, "and it serves you right, too!" But I'm no fool. I can read between the lines.

So sadly, I finally uninstalled the dictation program, hoping that would help.

Another mistake.

The computer responded to that by sending me all sorts of error messages, whenever I tried to use the remaining programs, telling me this-or-that program was no longer operating because one or more of its DLL files were missing. It repetitively suggested I find the missing files, or else reinstall the programs.

I tried to ignore the error messages and use the programs anyway. But to no avail. After hours of frustration, I gave up and viscously hit the reset button, just out of spite, then stomped out of the room before the computer even had a chance to complain about it.

Where would a person start hunting for a missing DLL file, I wondered. What did one look like? And where would it hide? And why would it suddenly bow out of the whole process? I didn't even know why DLL files were needed. But they did seem to be important. My email program would let me send mail, but no longer would receive any mail at all, blaming its obstinacy on a missing DLL file. Systems Information program would not even open anymore, again citing a DLL as the culprit. And so on.

All programs seemed to be in agreement on this labor issue. They wanted DLL's and were on strike in various ways until I came up with some.

But I hadn't realized, until pondering it all while gazing up at that full moon, that this was not a natural outcome of my incompetence. Nor was it faulty manufacturing. Not even weak parts. No! It was rebellion, plain and simple. The battle lines had been drawn, and the enemy no longer lurked in darkness. I could see the whites of its eyes. Or, in this case, at least the red light of its blinking CPU. This meant war!

Didn't it?

Was God reminding me through Scripture that I'm not to get too wrathful? Even towards a computer totally deserving of that wrath... Towards a smug, obnoxious little...

Another Scripture popped into my head, unasked for... "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose." (Rom 8:28)

I sighed, knowing the Bible was right and I was wrong, but I wasn't in the mood to agree at the moment. I pictured smashing a hammer through the gloating monitor's screen. Now that could work for good. But decided to pray before going back out and tossing a few electronic bodies around the living room.

Actually, I prayed quite a bit over the next couple days, and did unplug the computer completely. That at least ended its nighttime chatter for the time being.

Then I came up with a plan, beautiful in its simplicity.

I would just reformat the hard drive and then could reload the operating system from the CD. That'd fix it! Wherever the DLL files had run off to, it wouldn't matter. Copies of them would be reloaded anew with the operating system. Whatever was causing the dictation program to crash, who cared? It would fix itself by starting out fresh. Probably would solve the USB port problem too.

Clearly the computer had somehow sabotaged itself. Maybe partially from my innocent help and some slight error I might have made along the way. But I'd be crafty this time. We'd start all over, ol' Zapclunk and I. (I had started mentally calling it "Zapclunk" by that point, and the name just seemed to have stuck.)

This time I'd have the upper hand. No rebellion would stand a chance. I smiled, rather maliciously I confess, at the thought of erasing Zapclunk's memory. That would put it in its place! It would think twice before messing with me again.

And I could recall absolutely nothing in the Bible that even remotely resembled an admonishment against reformatting computers.

I knew I stood on solid ground.

So I called up the computer teacher at the local High School, who also happened to be my landlord.

"Is there any chance I could talk you into coming over and reformatting Zapclunk... uh... I mean, my computer, for me?"

"Well, I suppose. But are you sure you need to do that? You realize you'll lose all your current documents and files, don't you?"

We had quite a long conversation, with him trying to convince me that this was totally unnecessary.

I couldn't tell him my computer was in total rebellion. He just wouldn't understand the voices in the night. I was sharp enough to be careful about what I said.

But when I mentioned the missing DLL files and the non-functioning programs, he ended up admitting that reformatting did sound like a pretty good idea, after all.

So we set a time.

I thought about plugging in ol' Zapclunk again, just so I could gloat in its screen a bit, but decided that gloating was probably out, even with computers. I'd never seen it listed as one of the fruits of the Spirit...

The operation was performed the next day, and Zapclunk never even knew what hit it. Everything was all over before it could even get a word out edgewise... Before it even had time to crash the formatting program.

Although I did notice my landlord had a hard time finding some sub-program he needed for the reformatting of the hard drive. He said it was an unusual computer in that way -- that the program wasn't exactly where he expected it to be.

I kept my mouth shut, praying that Zapclunk hadn't hidden it so well that it couldn't be found at all.

Eventually though, my landlord nodded with satisfaction. "Found it!" And he hit a few commands and the process was started -- the destroy-Zapclunk's-memory procedure locked in.

Soon the operating system was reloaded and the landlord gone.

I felt like dancing a jig and singing, "Ding, dong, the Zapclunk's dead... Ding, dong the wicked Zapclunk's dead!" to the music about the death of the witch in the Wizard of Oz. But I hesitated, thinking that might not be a fruit of the Spirit either.

Then reminded myself joy was a legitimate fruit of the Spirit, so ended up twirling around the room a few times, humming the tune happily.

A clean slate!

I sat down, eager to try it out, marveling when the screen came up without a murmur of complaint or comment from any of the components. I rubbed my hands together gleefully. I was in business!

That night, when I woke up at 3 a.m., thinking I heard giggling and chuckles, I shrugged it off as just a bad dream, and rolled over and went back to sleep, secure in the knowledge all was well.

Little did I know...

Be sure to drop by the Den next week for the conclusion of "Zappy and I".

Meanwhile, Yvonne Blake, over at My Back Door is hosting Fiction Friday this week. So be sure and drop over there as well, to find links to the whole selection of entries by Christian writers, and/or to add a link of your own and join in the fun! We all welcome comments and discussion!
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