Golden Surfer Page 3
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The ball bounced so quickly that David missed it. He prepared himself to receive the service again. He missed it once more. The game should have been easy to win. His opponent was new to computer Ping Pong but he found himself struggling. Using the other games controller his Grandma seemed to have grasped the fundamentals of the game. She served again. This time David managed to hit the ball back.
Edna had not expected David to visit her so early. She had missed breakfast with his arrival at nine thirty in the morning. He had been so enthusiastic to teach her the computer game she had taken on the challenge straight away. To her surprise the game seemed easy. Her game tactic was to win quickly so that she could eat a bowl full of porridge. There it was again, a horrible rumbling noise from her stomach.
‘Grandma,’ David laughed, ‘you’re making some funny noises this morning.’
‘It must be fear dear,’ replied Edna. ‘Fear of losing to such a skilled player.’ Actually she was scared of winning and having to play another game. ‘Have I any chance of taking a break David? Just to let you describe your school project. Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘OK,’ he replied, relieved not to lose the game, ‘I’ll set it up again later.’
It always amazed Edna how quickly David could change from one activity to another. Before she had reached the kitchen he seemed to be deeply involved in some type of car race. The games controller had changed from a tennis paddle to a steering wheel. It all seemed very real. What had David called it, virtual reality? She poured the porridge into a bowl, made the tea and placed it all on a tray.
‘Here we are,’ she carried the tray into the room. ‘I want you to help me with my computer lesson this week. Are you good enough to teach me?’ She threw down the challenge hoping to make him say yes.
‘Good enough! Grandma,’ he looked at her as though she had broken his heart, ‘I’m an expert.’
They both laughed at his reply. She knew he could be depended on.
‘Now tell me Grandma, what are you doing at the library?’
‘I’m learning word processing. The funny thing is that every time I finish writing and the next person uses the computer my work disappears and I have to start again.’
‘The next person, what do you mean?’
‘We have to share a computer. There are six laptops and twelve students.’
‘Ah,’ David said understanding how the class had to co-operate. ‘When you finish and before your partner starts you should save your work. Have they showed you how to do that?’
‘In the Files but I don’t really know how they work.’
David thought for a while before answering, ‘Grandma, you know how you keep lots of your letters and photos in boxes?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’s what you do in the computer, but they don’t call them boxes, they call them Files. Look let me show you.’ Without further ado David opened his word processor, created a page headed My Grandma. ‘Look, I need to be able to find it next time I use the computer, I’m going to create a File called Grandma and Me. ‘There you are,’ he beamed at his grandmother, ‘you see the icon even looks like a box. He saved his page.’
Edna looked at the computer screen. There before her eyes was a little yellow box and when she clicked on it the screen changed to show her the page stored inside. ‘I see,’ she said. Can we save another page?’
‘Of course we can. What shall we call it? How about My Grandson? You type it you’re better with the keyboard than me. I bet you’ve been a secretary in your time.’
Edna had used a typewriter at work in the eighties, but not as a high flying secretary. She had been a copy typist. They don’t have them now days she thought as she created a new page and saved it.
‘That’s it Grandma. Now open the File.’
With a click the File called Grandma and Me opened to show her the two saved pages, My Grandma and My Grandson. ‘Well I never!’ she said, ‘I’ve been doing this for years, keeping things in boxes.’
‘You see it’s easy. What’s the last box you had out of the front room?’
‘Nineteen sixty-five.’
‘We can create a file called 1965 in the computer. Now if we want to save pages into it we can do.’ David headed a page called Moon Landing and again saved it.’
‘But where’s it gone to?’ asked Edna.
‘It’s not really a piece of paper Grandma. It’s stored in memory until we want to print it. It’s a virtual page. Something we can work with and when we want to see it in our hands we print it.’
‘Oh,’ the long pause that followed indicated that Edna needed some time to think about it. ‘Are you ready for another game of Ping Pong?’ She rapidly began eating her cold porridge. ‘Drink your tea David, before its goes cold.’ It didn’t seem to matter what you did with young people you could never catch up. ‘You didn’t tell me about your school project.’
‘Grandma, mum says I’ve got to ask your permission. You’ll never guess what my History project is.’
‘Not if you don’t give me a clue.’
David could hardly contain his enthusiasm. ‘Grandma,’ he looked to make sure he had her attention, ‘Grandma…’
‘Come on then, out with it I’m dying of suspense.’
‘Grandma, it’s you: you’re my history project.’ David laughed at the expression on his grandmother’s face.
‘I hope your not saying I’m history young man,’ she said indignantly.
‘Not you Grandma, but all the things that have happened in your life. We might have to narrow it down a bit. It’s been a long time.’
Edna picked up the cushion and threw it at him. He dodged and threw it back.
‘Mind the porridge,’ she cried. ‘Why me, what have I done to deserve this?’
‘You’re interesting Grandma, you and all that’s happened.’
He seemed so keen, Edna thought for a few seconds, and said, ‘I think you could be right. This is a very nice suggestion David. I will be proud to be your history project. I just hope my memory is good enough.’
‘You don’t have to recall everything, we’ve got the Internet.’
‘The Internet,’ said Edna, ‘Now you are talking my language.’ She didn’t know much about it but she knew that you needed something called double-u, double-u, double-u, dot, before you could surf. It sounded very exciting, dangerous maybe. Edna resolved to be careful.