Replacement Therapy Ch. 01

"Oh ... wow. Look at that! It's so bright and clear. This is going to spoil me for that old monitor."

I smiled as I watched her work toward her programs. She had been using an old version of Windows 2000, now long obsolete. I had Windows XP on the laptop, but she would need a brief tutorial from me. In the meantime, she was going through her files to make sure everything was there. Luckily, nothing had been corrupted by the failure of the motherboard.

Her sigh of relief when I turned the machine over to her was audible and a pleasure to hear. She really did need my help and she really did appreciate it.

"Oh, Mr. Prentice ... thank you so much. You've saved me from so much grief. I can't tell you how grateful I am."

"You're welcome, but you can call me Aaron. If we run into each other at Bernie's, you can buy me a pint of ale in payment."

"That's the least I can do. What should I do about this old computer?"

I guess I was in a weakened condition when I said, "I'll trade you the laptop for it. You can keep the printer."

She looked at me in shock. "No ... I couldn't do that. That's not fair to you."

"It isn't about fair. You need a good, working computer. You have to keep a roof over your head, and your children in food and clothes. If this computer will help do that, then it's a fair trade." I gave her the impression I wasn't about to take no for an answer.

She blinked several time, perhaps on the verge of tears. I turned away to allow her a moment. "Thank you," she said quietly.

I nodded and picked up the tower and monitor. They would go in the office electronics recycling bin tomorrow. She held the door for me as I stepped out onto the porch.

"Thank you again, Aaron. I don't know what I would have done without your generosity. Thank you."

"You're very welcome. Glad I could help. Perhaps I'll see you again at Bernie's."

I drove home feeling better than I had in many months. When I thought about it, I really didn't need the old laptop for emergencies. It was two or three generations newer than Mrs. Michaels' old desktop, so she would see a much quicker response on the computer.

It felt good to help someone who really needed it. She was struggling to earn enough money to support herself and her family. She had been a housewife before her husband had been called up from reserves to active duty. She had no real business skills, but apparently she could sew and create clothes from patterns, and there was a limited market for that. Life couldn't be easy for her, and there probably wasn't much opportunity to enjoy any luxuries.

It was a couple of weeks before I thought of Yolanda Michaels again. It was a Tuesday, and I had dropped into Bernie's for my usual pint. It was pretty quiet at five o'clock, so Nick had some time to chat.

"You sure made a friend in Mrs. Michaels," he said.

"Oh ... good. I guess she told you about the computer."

"She couldn't get over how you would do that for her. That was a hell of a thing, Aaron. Not too many people would have done something like that for a person they'd just met."

"Aw ... she was in trouble and I could help. What the hell ... no big deal."

"That's not the way she sees it. Anyway, nice goin'. That beer is on the house."

"Thanks. I'll have to find more good deeds to do if there's a nice pint of suds at the end of the rainbow."

Nick laughed and moved back down the bar. I thought about Yolanda again. I did have that Open Office program that I could give her. Maybe when I saw what she was doing, I could help her with some other programs I had. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to see her and the kids again. I was remembering how good I felt when I was in that house. I could use another "fix."

I phoned her at seven o'clock, and she answered almost immediately.

"Hi, Yolanda, it's Aaron Prentice. I just remembered I had a copy of a program that might help you. If you like, I could come over and load it on the laptop and show you how it worked."

"Oh ... Aaron, nice to hear from you. What kind of program are you talking about?"

"Well, your old Windows was obsolete and you don't have much experience with the newer one that I replaced it with. Also, you may want to do your own billing and accounting on the machine. I've got a program for that. I could come over anytime and show you how they worked."

"Oh, well ... uhhm ... I guess it would be okay. You really don't have to do this, you know. You've done so much for us already."

"To tell the truth, I need to do this to get enough credits for my Boy Scouts Good Citizenship badge," I joked.

She laughed. It was the first time I'd ever heard her laugh, and I wish I'd been there to see it first hand.

"Oh, well then, I guess it's all right. I know the kids want to see you again, so why don't you come over before I put them to bed?"

The kids wanted to see me? What the hell? "Uhhm ... great. I'll see you in a few minutes."

I was a bit stunned at what she had said, and couldn't figure out why the children would have asked for me. They'd only seen me for a few minutes when I first arrived. Did I have as big an impression on them as they had on me?

I knocked on the door and immediately heard pounding little footfalls running to open it. Kirk had just beaten his sister to the door and they both were wrestling with it to let me in. I laughed, but their mother didn't think it was quite as funny.

"You two behave yourselves. Mr. Prentice is a guest," she said sternly. They quieted down immediately, but I could see the smiles on their faces as they watched me enter.

"Hi Deanna, Hi Kirk," I said as I watched their mother close the door behind me. "Nice to see you guys again."

"What are you going to do to the new computer, Mr. Prentice?" Deanna asked.

"Well, I have a couple of programs that I think will help your mother when she's using it. I'm afraid they aren't games, though."

"That's okay, we know Mommy needs to work on the computer. Sometimes we get to use it too," she said proudly.

"Oh ... are you on the internet?" I asked without thinking.

"No ... we aren't on line. I wish I could afford it, but right now it's not in the budget," Yolanda explained.

I wish I'd just kept my big mouth shut. Another embarrassment for the woman. It must be hard when other kids have all these advantages and don't really appreciate it.

"Do you have computers at school?" I asked, hoping to change the topic.

Deanna was nodding, but Kirk was shaking his head. "You have to be in grade three to use the computers. Kirk is just in grade one," Yolanda explained.

"Uhhm, I don't mean to interfere, but you could use your phone line to go online."

Yolanda was getting a frustrated look, and once again I had the feeling I had stepped over the line. It was time to try and salvage the situation.

"Yolanda, you could at least get your e-mail set up and be able to communicate with your customers at no charge, no matter where they were. It would save on long distance calls."

That seemed to mollify her, and she was nodding. "I haven't even attempted to try the internet. I was afraid I'd end up with charges for doing things that I didn't even know I was doing," she confessed.

"I think I can put your mind at rest. I assume you have a fixed rate on your phone for local calls?" She nodded in the affirmative. "Good, then I can easily set you up for a basic mailbox and you'll be able to send and receive messages without any cost. Setting up with a service provider is very inexpensive, five or so dollars a month. You'll be amazed at how much you can find in the way of information. With a regular phone line, it will be pretty slow, but just the same, it's all there for you."

I had brought my "junk box" of bits and pieces with me and went out to the car to get it. Within five minutes I had a splitter on the phone outlet, with a line to the phone and a second phone cord into the back of the laptop. It took a little longer to boot up Internet Explorer, but soon enough we had established a mailbox for her business.

The kids were all eyes when they saw they would now have an internet connection. I warned them that they could only use it when their mom put in the secret password. I showed Yolanda how to do that, and she was mighty relieved. I think she may have had visions of one or the other of them stumbling onto porn sites or other undesirable locations. It would be slow, but with patience they could use the internet for all sorts of projects.

I went over the Windows XP tutorial and noticed that Yolanda was using Notebook as her word processor, so I added a copy of Open Office's word processor program to her partition. I showed her the templates and fonts, suggesting she could fool around designing all sorts of forms, from invoices, to sales messages, to ... whatever. She was nodding, and if her face was any indication, she was excited at the possibilities.

The children were put to bed a little later than usual that evening. They were as excited as their mother that they would now have internet and were busy telling their mother about all the interesting sites they could visit. I waited until they were put down for the night. Yolanda had asked me to stay, and I wasn't about to turn her down.

"I didn't think I was ever going to get them to go to sleep. They're so excited about the internet. They don't remember when we had it a few years ago. You've really been a huge help, Aaron. I don't know how to thank you enough."

"Just let me keep coming around to help where I can. I'm on my own, as Nick has probably told you. I miss my boys, and I guess in a way, I'm using Deanna and Kirk as replacements. I don't mean that the way it sounds ... I mean ... they're great kids and they've got a great mom to look after them. But ... you can't do it all yourself, so I've appointed myself as the unofficial 'Mr. Fixit' for the Michaels household."

"Oh you have, have you," Yolanda said with a sly grin. "You didn't ask for my permission, Mr. Prentice."

"Ah ... well ... in the words of the old philosopher ... it's always easier to say you're sorry than to get permission."

"I've heard that. But ... I don't want you to feel obligated, Aaron. What you've done has been a godsend. I know I keep saying thank you, but I mean it, sincerely."

"I know. When I left here that first time after I brought the laptop over, I hadn't felt so good about anything in a long time. I slept really well that night, and for several nights afterward. That hadn't happened either in a long time. Allow me to enjoy the moment when I can do something to help you. I feel good about it, and hopefully you get the benefit."

She was nodding, a slight smile on her face. "Would you like some coffee, or something? I'm sorry, I don't have any beer."

"No ... nothing thanks. Coffee will keep me awake, and that's something I'm trying to overcome."

"It's been difficult for you ... losing your sons. I can't imagine what I would do if it happened to me. I would go crazy, I think."

"I almost did. I still have bad dreams, but they're getting less and less. I haven't forgotten the boys, but I think I've come to terms with the idea that for now, I can't do anything about the situation. The law won't help me enforce the visitation rights, and they're a couple of thousand miles away, so it's a difficult problem. I'll just have to follow Nick's advice and be patient."

"Do you have any family here?" she asked.

"No. My parents live in Costa Rica. Dad retired early on a government pension, and they bought a place down there. I see them once every year or so when one or the other of us visits, but that's about it."

"My mother is nearby, thank god. At least she and the next door neighbors can baby sit for me once in a while when I need to get away for a few hours. I call them my sanity breaks. My husband's parents live in Texas, so I don't see them very much at all. There are so many grandchildren in their family that I don't think they miss my kids. It's frustrating, but I can't make them pay attention to their son's children. I know they took his death as hard as I did."

We talked for quite a while. I learned that her late husband had been very handy with tools, just as I was. He had built a workshop in the basement, and had almost finished the playroom that was destined for the kids. Yolanda had taken it over as her sewing center, but it wasn't ideal. The lighting was poor and the floor was unfinished concrete. I asked her to show me the room. In the back of my mind, it might be a project that would allow me to help once more, not to mention spend more time with the Michaels family.

When I walked downstairs with her, I was surprised. The large room was drywalled and the walls painted soft beige, the ceiling white. The floor was bare concrete, but off to one side were stacked cartons of laminated flooring. It was the "floating floor" type, with a foam underlay. I opened the door into the workshop and stopped in surprise. It was fully equipped with a table saw, miter saw, drill press, compressor, nail gun, and a variety of other tools. Some were old, and some were new. Piled in one corner was several dozen feet of one-by-four primed boards, plenty for both the base and the casing around the two doorways.

I did a little mental calculation and figured that in less than a weekend, we could finish that basement room and make it habitable for both Yolanda and the children. There were only two one hundred watt bulbs for illumination, but that was easily remedied. I had two four-tube fluorescent fixtures in my storage unit with no use for them. It would provide much more light for her work area, and still light the room well.

I was all set to get to work before I remembered I hadn't talked to Yolanda about what I had in mind.

"What do you normally do on weekends?" I asked, looking to sound out the possibility.

"Not a lot. I usually work on my sewing on Saturday morning, and then I like to get the kids out of the house if the weather isn't too bad. We go to the park, or the zoo, or to watch a baseball game. We all need a break sometime," she said smiling.

"Absolutely. So ... if I were to suggest something for this weekend, would you be willing to hear me out?"

"I suppose so. What are you talking about?"

"Well, the weatherman says Saturday isn't going to be so hot, but Sunday should be sunny. I'm going to suggest I come over Saturday morning and get to work on your room downstairs. By my estimation, I can finish the floor and do the trim on Saturday. I can install a couple of fluorescent fixtures I have at home on Sunday morning, and then we can go out to a ballgame in the afternoon. Sound okay?"

"Aaron ... what's this about? I mean ... you're willing to do all this for us. I don't really understand."

"It's simple, and it relates to what I said about that first time I was here. It's my therapy. I need it. I need contact with people, and doing things to help them. I haven't contributed much in the last two years, but now I've found a cause. The Michaels family can use my help, so here I am."

"But that's too much to ask. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. I'm uncomfortable with all this."

"I know. I can tell. You aren't used to someone like me just barging in and insisting on doing things. But it's something that I need to do, and I know for sure that it's something that needs doing. When it's all over, the worst that can be said is that you got some work done around the house that made things better for you."

"And the best?"

I shrugged. "You've made a new friend."

"I already have that. At least, in my mind I do," she smiled.

"Well, there you go. You're already ahead. So what do you say? Saturday morning about nine-thirty too early?"

She smiled, and then she laughed. It was that laugh I heard on the telephone, and it looked even better than I imagined it would.

To Be Continued

Editing by ErikThread and DaveT with my thanks for their thoroughness and helpful suggestions. Any errors are mine.