Troubled waters, p.21
Troubled Waters, page 21
“This folder, Mom. The one that says Temporary.”
“I just can’t get that little arrow to go where I want!” Her mother’s voice was strained.
“Okay, listen, let’s back off this for a moment, okay? Maybe stepping away from it will help.”
Evelyn’s hands dropped to her sides, and she leaned back into her chair. “Okay.”
“Great. Now,” she said, moving the computer in front of her, “I want to show you how most people communicate these days. Remember when I told you about e-mail?” Her mother’s eyes looked glassy, but she nodded. “Well, the e stands for electronic. It works just like mail as far as going to different mailboxes. What’s great about it is that it gets sent instantly and can go to anyone who has e-mail capability all over the world and in just seconds.” Her mother was nodding and looking at her, yet Macey wasn’t at all sure she was getting it. Macey checked her watch. It was almost four. “Let me give you an example.” Macey stood and plugged the computer into the phone jack in the kitchen. “E-mail uses phone lines to transmit the data, just as if you were talking on the phone with someone, except you’re sending information, not your voice.” She typed her password and connected to the Internet, then opened Outlook Express, noting that she had received twenty-five new messages. Macey clicked on New Mail and typed in Bethie’s name. “I’m going to send my assistant a message, and if she’s at her desk, she’ll send me one back. Watch carefully.”
Macey typed a short message to Bethie and then clicked Send. She watched her mom’s eyes try to take it all in. “Now it’s traveling over the phone lines, and if Bethie’s there, we’ll get a reply message from her.”
Less than a minute later, her computer beeped that she had a new e-mail. Sure enough, Bethie was at her desk. Macey opened the e-mail and quickly read it.
Macey, what are you doing? Mitchell is so mad! I’ve never seen him this mad. I think he’s having a nervous breakdown or something. When are you coming back? Is New York still on? Was I supposed to decipher some coded message or something from that e-mail? Are you really just e-mailing me to say hi?
Evelyn was squinting as she read the text. She looked at Macey. “Who’s Mitchell?”
Macey was typing and talking at the same time. “My boss.”
“Sounds like he’s pretty mad at you.”
“He’ll get over it.” Macey pressed Send and waited for Bethie to reply, which she did instantly.
No, Alexis isn’t permanent, although Mitchell might be leading you to think so. All he does is gripe about her all day long. The Senator Brandt story is huge right now. I can’t believe you’re missing it.
Macey tried to be sensitive to her mother’s prying eyes as she typed out another e-mail to Bethie. I know. Keep me updated. And keep your cell on you. Bye. She clicked Send and turned to her mom. “That’s e-mail. It’s a very quick way to communicate with other people.”
Evelyn frowned. “If you’re using the phone line, why wouldn’t you just pick up the phone and call her?”
Macey gave a half smile. Good question. “Because in this day and age, Mom, people are very busy and they don’t have time for a lot of cordial chitchat and formalities. This way, you can send info and ask questions without having to commit to actually talking face to face, or voice to voice, with another human being. That can be quite time consuming.”
Her mother’s expression indicated that this had to be the most bizarre thing she’d ever heard. How could her mother possibly understand the pace of life outside this little farm community? How could she understand that people didn’t want human closeness; they wanted information, and fast.
“Anyway,” Macey said, “that’s how you e-mail. It uses a lot of the same principles as word processing. We’ll go over it more thoroughly later.”
Her mother was staring into space like a zombie, and Macey realized how overwhelming this must be for her. Still, she couldn’t let that distract her. This was her mother’s only hope—a job at AST.
She thought for a moment about what might motivate her mother to concentrate and learn how to save a document. A smile spread across Macey’s face, and she looked at her mother. “So, Mom, tell you what. As soon as you can save your document into that folder, I’ll let you fix me a good old-fashioned home-cooked dinner.”
Macey watched her mother’s face light up and her eyes steady on the screen.
Country-fried steak drenched in thick white gravy was the home-cooked dinner Evelyn chose, and Macey had to admit that it was delicious. No one prepared country-fried steak like her mom. Sweet corn on the cob, lumpy mashed potatoes, and freshly baked muffins completed the meal. Macey could hardly eat fast enough. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this hungry.
“Does it taste okay?” her mother asked as she refilled the mashed potato bowl. Macey nodded and kept eating. There was something oddly soothing about this kind of meal. Just thirty minutes ago her nerves had been shot. Her mother had finally saved the file in the correct folder but in exiting the program had somehow deleted another file, a story Macey had been gathering notes on for about a month.
Macey stopped eating long enough to look at her watch. “It’s 6:36. After dinner we’ll take a few hours to get you familiar with faxing documents and also maneuvering around the computer without deleting everything on the hard drive.”
Evelyn smiled uneasily at Macey while she buttered her corn. “I’m not catching on to this as quickly as you had hoped, am I?”
“It’s not that,” Macey lied. “I know all this is overwhelming to you. You’re just going to have to concentrate, think on a different level.” Macey set down her knife and leaned forward. “Mom, I mean, you realize that the whole world is connected by computers now, don’t you? Everyone I know has a computer or works on a computer. You understand how vital it is that you’re educated in this.”
“Pass the salt, will you, dear?” Evelyn asked, and Macey handed it to her. “I suppose I am living in the dark ages here, aren’t I?”
“A little.”
“Well, if you think I need that job over at that AST, then by golly I’ll try my best to get it.” She smiled at Macey. “Don’t let me forget I’ve got to gather the eggs tonight. I forgot to do it yesterday.”
Macey nibbled at her corn as she wondered if there was any possible way her mother was going to learn everything she needed to this evening. The more she thought, the harder she nibbled, until soon all that was left was an empty cob.
Macey’s plate was clean, and Evelyn was finishing up her portion. A mound of food still covered the table as Macey stood and began clearing the dishes.
“Dear, aren’t you going to have another serving? Look at all this food I cooked!”
“Mom, we don’t have time for second servings tonight. We’ve got too much to do. You still have to learn how to navigate the Internet, run a copier, and fax a document, and I probably need to at least introduce you to a phone system that has more than one line.” She glanced up at her mother’s rotary phone on the wall. “And explain push-button phones to you.”
Evelyn set down her fork and knife and blinked at her plate. She looked sad, and Macey wondered if she’d hurt her mother’s feelings. She wasn’t trying to imply her mother was stupid; she was just behind the times. Macey approached the table. “Mom, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
Evelyn’s eyes glistened with tears and she continued to stare down at the table. “I’m disappointing you.”
“No, no, Mom, not at all,” Macey said, sitting in the chair next to Evelyn. “Am I giving you that impression? I’m sorry. You’re not disappointing me. We’ve just got a lot to learn in a little bit of time. I leave tomorrow morning, and I have to teach you all this before I go. Your interview is Friday.”
Evelyn looked up at Macey and shook her head, wiping the tears away. “Well, back in my day, interviews had to do with showing commitment and honesty. The people wanted to know if you’d work hard and be loyal to the company. If so, then they’d train you to do what it was they needed you to do. I’m honest and hardworking. I’m a loyal person—doesn’t that count for something?”
Macey felt a sting in her own eyes. How was her mom going to make it in this world without her father? The lump grew in her throat the more she thought about it. Leaving her mother to fend for herself in the corporate world was similar to dropping off a toddler on the side of the street and hoping he had enough sense not to step into traffic. Yet there was wisdom in what her mother had just said, and Macey had to admit she wished things were that way today. Macey drew in a deep breath to steady herself. There didn’t need to be two women carrying on at the same table.
“It counts for a lot,” Macey managed, though her voice quivered a bit. “And I know you have all those qualities, Mom. They’re good qualities. But in this day and age you have to know more. It’s just the way it is.”
Evelyn nodded, then said, “I guess I’ll help you with the dishes.”
———
Macey had insisted that Evelyn let her do the dishes while she practiced faxing. Evelyn would have much rather done the dishes, but regardless she sat in front of the little computer and practiced using the mouse. Macey had explained that it was actually called a touch pad but that she still called it a mouse out of habit. At any rate, it took a delicate finger, that was for sure, and Evelyn tapped into some of her sewing skills in order to keep her finger steady and the pressure constant.
An hour later Macey had finished the dishes and brought Evelyn a fresh cup of coffee. “You’ll be needing this,” she said with a small grin. Evelyn loved to see her smile.
“Thank you. Well, I think I have this mouse thing down.”
Macey pulled up a chair next to her and leaned on the table, supporting her chin with both hands. “Really? Let me see.”
Evelyn maneuvered around the screen with the little arrow, clicking on different pictures and then closing them by clicking on the X. She turned to Macey. “What do you think?”
Her daughter’s face was soft with surprise. “Mother! That’s terrific. You have been concentrating!” Macey clasped her hands together and with excitement said, “Okay, now, let’s review. I want you to type out your name on a document in the word processor, save it in the temporary folder, and print it out.”
Evelyn sipped her coffee and couldn’t contain her smile. She’d made her daughter proud. She looked at the computer screen and sat up tall. She could do this.
———
Thirty-five minutes later Evelyn still hadn’t saved and printed the document as her daughter had instructed. Her eyes were becoming bleary, and her heart was heavy with disappointment. Why couldn’t she understand this? Her daughter had shown her several times, yet she just couldn’t remember all the little buttons to push. It was a sequence, and her memory wasn’t so good these days.
She was starting over for the tenth time when it dawned on her that Macey was no longer in the room. But as she listened, she could hear her voice coming from upstairs.
“What took you so long to answer the phone? . . . Yes, I’m on edge . . . I know, I know, I read your e-mail . . . I was trying to show my mom, okay, never mind, it’s not important. What is important is that I need you to rebook my flight . . . from here to New York. . . . Yeah, you’ve got the details from Thornton Winslow’s office, don’t you? . . . Just make sure I’m scheduled to be there in plenty of time. I’d prefer to fly out Wednesday night, but I can leave Thursday morning if I need to. . . . Okay, fine . . . Yeah, and just try to settle Mitchell down; he’s making me nervous. . . . Okay, bye.”
A thumping sound came from the stairs, and Macey emerged at the bottom, her face tired and strained. Evelyn kept her fingers on the keys like she’d been typing away. “Is everything okay, honey?”
Macey shuffled over to the table, swatting hair out of her eyes. “Yes. Why?”
“You just seem a bit tense. I heard you . . . um . . . talking to someone upstairs.”
Macey sat down at the table and looked at the computer. “Did you get the file saved yet?”
Evelyn shook her head and hunched her shoulders in guilt. “No. Not yet.”
“Okay,” said Macey, rubbing her temples, “maybe we need to take a break from this and work on something else.”
“There’s more?”
Her daughter’s eyes cut sideways to look at her. “Yes, Mother. There’s more. There’s a lot more. I’ve got to convince Ms. Cunningham at AST that you’re qualified for a job that you’re in no way qualified for.” Her face reddened as she spoke. “I just can’t believe . . .”
“What?”
Macey finally turned and looked squarely at Evelyn. “I can’t believe Dad left you in this predicament. I just can’t believe it.”
Evelyn had no idea what to say. She hardly knew she was in a predicament until Macey pointed it out. They’d had a lot of financial problems since the drought, and then there were the doctor’s bills. She’d never looked too far into the future. She knew if she did, she would see herself lonely and afraid. So she had just lived day to day, cherishing every last moment she had with Jess. And Jess had been so sure God would heal him. . . .
The dull look in her daughter’s eyes told her that this was a serious situation, though, and that everything depended on her getting this job. She looked back at the screen and jutted her chin forward. She could do this. She had to do this. The words blurred now. It seemed like she’d been reading small print all day.
Evelyn felt her daughter’s hand on her shoulder. She looked up into Macey’s face.
“Mom, let’s take a break and move on to something else for now. I know you’re really trying hard.”
Nineteen
The two hands of her watch formed a perfect right angle. It was nine o’clock. Macey twisted the band back and forth on her wrist as if trying to slow time down. An impossibility in their circumstance. If anything, time was speeding up.
Macey sat on the edge of her bed, the door to her room open enough so she could hear activity downstairs. She strained to hear the sound of the printer rolling the paper up or at least queuing a document. But there were no such sounds. Only her mother humming yet another refrain of “I Surrender All.” It was a sweet melody, even with her mother’s off-key rendition. It did nothing, however, to keep her muscles from knotting up, or her head from throbbing, or her hands from trembling.
Her fingers massaged her temples, and then her hands slid down her face and fell into her lap. A dry sting plagued both her eyes, so she closed them and fell backward onto her bed, plunging into the softness of the comforter as though it were a pool of water. She stretched her arms over her head and stared at the ceiling.
What am I going to do?
Above her mother’s humming she could hear the soft tapping of the keyboard. At least she was doing something down there. They still hadn’t covered the fax machine or how to use a copier or telephone system or voice mail. The list was endless and so was the hard, fast beat of her anxious heart.
Her fingers mindlessly tore through her hair as she tried to think of some other option, some other way she could help her mother. Admittedly AST was a bad idea. But everything was a bad idea at this point. At dinner her mother had suggested they pray about it, and Macey lowered her head while her mother blessed the food and asked for God’s provision in the situation. But she hadn’t been praying; she’d been thinking instead. She was still thinking. But nothing was happening. No solution came to mind.
She’d come upstairs for a break. She knew her mother needed one, too. Macey had been standing over her shoulder for hours, barking orders and repeating instructions. For a woman whose life consisted of cooking, cleaning, and church socials, this was probably more than she could take. And it didn’t help that she’d buried her husband just a few days ago. Even if her mom got the job, could she really maintain the eight-to-five lifestyle required, all the driving? Just being there for thirty minutes, Macey had picked up on the pace of the office setting. It would run her mother over. One anxious thought pushed a previous one out of her mind, and each time the new one showed up much quicker. It was a freight train of fear building up speed.
She didn’t know if leaving her mother alone with the computer was a good idea. She’d already erased one file. But maybe if she just had some time alone to mess around with it, see that it wasn’t going to bite her, maybe she’d have a breakthrough or something.
Macey kicked her shoes off and stretched her legs. As she grabbed her ankles and rolled herself up to a sitting position, something suddenly caught her eye. It was her other closet, the storage closet. Macey slid off the bed and walked toward it, wondering what was in there.
She passed by the bedroom door, and her mother’s humming and typing could still be heard downstairs but with no sound of the printer working. A sigh released as she moved closer to the storage closet door. She reached for the gold doorknob and then hesitated. What was she afraid of? It wasn’t like a skeleton was going to fall out.
She had to grip the doorknob hard and turn it steadily before the door opened. It creaked with each inch it moved. With one hefty yank, she pulled it open and stared into a dark, gaping hole. She walked in and waved her hand in the air looking for the string. Where was that silly thing? She finally found it and the light bulb popped on, revealing many neatly stacked boxes on the floor and lining the shelves. Macey leaned against the doorframe and thought, The first eighteen years of my life, boxed up and tucked away in the dark.
Just the way she wanted it.
