Mr Computer Cleaner Ch. 01

"Every day, but my daughter is long gone – she's working in the kitchen of a passenger liner and says she's having a whale of a time."

"Oh, that's good. I actually meant you and your wife."

"Oh, she's long gone as well. But she remains with me – she's over there," he said pointing to a small copper container beside the fireplace.

"Oh, that's good," Dio said weakly.

He then showed Mr Schmidt how to clear temporary files.

"Oh that – I used to do that but sort of forgot about it. I just thought the disk was slowing down because it's getting old, like me."

Dio opened Notepad and quickly typed out a step by step list of instructions on disk maintenance. He saved it to d:drive as "Disk Clean-up" and then added a shortcut to that file to the desktop.

"There – see this shortcut," Dio instructed. "When you think a disk clean-up is due just hit this icon and, presto!"

"Crikey dick – that's amazing," Mr Schmidt said. "I'll have to reward you."

Dio was wondering what he meant, hoping it might be money rather than some ashes of Mrs Schmidt.

He watched Mr Schmidt begin a defrag of c:drive.

After that, Mr Schmidt led him through the house and out to a rickety shed.

"This shed is all that remains of the original homestead that stood here until 1960," he said proudly. "It was all farmland around here until the housing boom of the sixties."

Inside the shed he pulled a dirty white sheet off a black painted metal box which was a just over four feet long and two feet wide.

"It has a pull-out tray inside it and four rubber bungs on reinforced bolt holes on the bottom and the back for affixing," he said. "The lid completely encloses the body, so it's absolutely waterproof and that new paint is five coats of lacquer. I had the box on my old Bedford until I sold the old girl and thought it might make a useful gift for someone one day. Well, that day has come. I have taken a look-see at your flash pick-up and saw that you needed a decent lockup box to sit behind the cab – so here it is, son."

Dio was overwhelmed. Why was the guy doing this? People – apart from girls – never gave him anything?

"I'll pay you," he said, drawing out his wallet. "I really want this box."

"Pay me be dammed," Mr Schmidt snorted. "I said it was a fuckin' gift!"

"Whoops, sorry; no offence intended," Dio said, hastily pushing the wallet back into the hip pocket of his jeans.

As they carried the box to the ute, Mr Schmidt said: "You know, I notice this vehicle of yours is a V8. That's a bit of a gas-guzzler so you ought to be charging your clients eighty bucks an hour. My garage charges me close to a hundred bucks, and then I often have to take the car back to get the job done properly."

Dio felt temporarily bonded to Mr Schmidt, so he pulled the keys out and dangled them in front of him, watching Mr Schmidt's eyes glaze over as they followed the jingling keys.

"Take her for a run."

Mr Schmidt said: "Holy shit."

"Go on, I'll stay here. Let your juices flow."

The old man grabbed the keys.

"Right, let's go. You're coming with me. Compared with what I drive this vehicle is virtually a lethal weapon. I'll need crew support."

They started off down the road, very quietly. Then with a boyish smile the old man floored the gas pedal to do a wheel spin before easing back.

"What did you do for a crust? Mr Schmidt," asked Dio, unclenching his fists.

"I was mostly in the Air Force."

Ah-ha, thought Dio. So I was right, the Luftwaffe.

"I flew this country's first jets. I flew almost 10 years with the Air Force before I was promoted to a desk job at defense headquarters in Wellington.

"Very interesting," said Dio, wondering why he was so useless at trying to make assumptions about people and their background. However, Mr Schmidt was not his biggest.

The biggest clanger he'd ever made had been over his own mother when he was eighteen. Some idiot reckoned his mother was a prostitute, so Dio did the decent thing and walloped him, dropping the guy like a stone. Others in their group at the dance pulled him away and then Sarisha was crying, hugging him.

"Oh, you poor darling," she'd sobbed. "You honestly didn't know that being a herbalist is only a hobby for your mum. The nice clothes that she buys you, the great holidays she's taken you on, the money that for years she'd been sending off to your father – she could never have earned that kind of money mixing up natural remedies for people."

"Tally-ho!" cried squadron leader Hackett Schmidt, seeing a blonde-hair mid-age woman in a blue open-top sports car entered the road ahead of them, coming from a side road and not bothering to halt at the compulsory stop sign. She then accelerated away.

Dio clenched his first again as the red ute's 5.7 V8 motor roared into life as pilot Schmidt lined up his quarry and gave chase. Only the siren sounded behind them preventing an interesting situation from developing.

Squadron leader Hackett Schmidt eased back the throttle and executed a left turn with a deft flick of the 'rudder', while the police pursuit vehicle, red and blue lights flashing, went after the little blue sports car.

Whew, this is better than the movies, thought co-pilot Ace Hamilton, telling his buddy: "Hit the gas and let's get out of here in case that cop comes back looking for us."

"Roger!" shouted the pseudo juvenile behind the wheel, grinning as his foot hit the gas pedal.

Outside 11 Coventry Place Mr Schmidt patted Dio on the shoulder and said: "Son, thanks for the privilege of being given a most joyous occasion. I reckon I feel ten years younger than when I answered the door to you two hours ago."

"It's been a pleasure, sir. I don't usually have so much fun on the job. Every time I jam my hand on the heavy lid of that steel box I shall remember you fondly."

"Likewise son. You are a little uptight, you know. Coach yourself to loosen up a bit to fly by the seat of your pants. Cheerio."

"Achtung Baby!" called Dio, hoping the roar of the motor would drown his idiotic choice of farewell.

Dio headed into Lake Street and just like in the movies parked right outside his destination - Coffee Exotic where he intended having coffee and a snack.

He'd spent two hours on the Schmidt call for sixty bucks, but had gotten very much more from that encounter. By that he did not mean the steel box, easily worth three hundred bucks. He'd experienced a rewarding person-to-person encounter, quite magical really. It was something like the adventures he used to have as a kid with his two buddies – but never with his parents although he knew his mom had tried her best.

But she didn't like swimming, fighting or walking. She used to say with a sly smile – "I do my best exercise on my back" – and he turned eighteen before he understood what she meant.

Although Dio ordered a thin flat white, three chicken sandwiches and one piece of apple slice, the co-owner of Café Exotic Celina Bryant handed him a plate with two pieces topped with small mountains of whipped cream.

"I'm only charging you for one, sweetheart. You really do need building up. I'll bring your coffee over."

Just as the first piece of apple-slice-to-die-for entered Dio's mouth to be turned over multiple times and savored, a bottle of Tibetan Alpine Clear Aqua landed on his table with a thump, and Celina's husband Mike Bryant slid into the seat opposite.

Whenever these friends came together, an idiotic verbal jostling eventuated, so today's encounter was typical.

"Hi, Big Balls. Thought I would join you as the lunch rush is over. Who are you shagging these days?"

"No one actually, as according to the horoscope in Women Alive, this is my month for total celibacy."

"Struth," breathed Mike in awe. "No one could possibly go for a month without it, and survive."

"Will you attend my funeral?" Dio responded gravely.

"Look mate, don't throw your life away, Mike grinned.

"Tell you what, you come in here after work and I'll lend you Celli. You can bang away in the cool room. Because that area is insulated the horoscope writer will not be able to detect that you have confounded her predictions."

Dio pretended to be almost moved to tears. "Thanks, mate. That's an exceedingly generous offer to loan me your missus, but I must refuse. How is one going to get a stiffer in the cold of a chiller room?"

"No trouble mate. Our kitchen assistant Susie and I duck in there quite frequently when business is slow, and I have no trouble ... oops, what and I saying?"

"Search me," offered Dio. "I thought you were talking about retrieving stuff from the chiller for the next day's baking."

"Oh yeah, I was, wasn't I? But consider the offer is still open, mate."

"Must go. Celli's gone off with the takings to the bank and Susie probably needs some help in the chiller. Catch you later."

Celina and Mike were truly great friends, thought Dio. Both were a little promiscuous, and he started that off.

As 16-year-olds the three of them were members of the school's long distance running squad. Celina Mellon as she was then and Mike used to sit in the front row of seats in the mini-bus, a spare seat between them, while he and Ronnie Marks used to sit in the back seat where before too long at least a couple of girls used to join them for what was called in those days, "some slap and tickle." Dio could never recall being slapped or slapping anyone.

One weekend Mike and Dio was billeted in the home of a mid-aged couple with a 20-year-old daughter. Mike rose twice during the night for a nervous pee, worried about his race in the morning. On both occasions Dio's bed was empty.

"Where were you last night?" Mike challenged, thinking that Dio must have nipped off down the street to the house where Liz Monks was billeted. Mike was aware that Liz really fancied Dio.

Dio told the truth. "Shortly after going to bed I got up and went for a pee. When I was walking past Sarah's room the door opened and she pulled me inside."

"What!" Mike squealed. Why would she be interested in you – she must be 20, and is very good looking?"

"Dunno, Mike, but she sure gave me a real working over."

"You're lying," Mike challenged.

The bedroom door opened and in walked Sarah in a nightdress that appeared to set a new record in shortness for a shortie nightdress.

"Good morning, Mike," she smiled sweetly. "Do you mind ducking off into my bed until the folks get up? I've got something to give to your friend here."

Mike slunk off, the way along the dark passage almost lit by the redness of his cheeks and ears, according to what he told Dio later. Mike decided that Sarah must be a nymphomaniac. Guys at school talked about them but regarded such girls as sluts. Sarah, as far as he could see, was just like your average girl next door, although much better looking. He was confused about this.

At the completion of the cross-country championships all competitors received a meal ticket. Mike had come in second in his event so was the centre of attention from the school's team. Just before their meal was served in the hall, Mike and Dio were standing together, the others having drifted off.

"Dio, do you rub some special scent on yourself or something to pull in the chicks?"

"No," Dio said in surprise.

"Then what is the secret?"

"Nothing; I just focus and say something like, "You're looking lovely tonight."

"What! But that's just crap!"

Dio thought he'd help Mike out, as they were good buddies.

"How many times have you been laid lately?

"Lately, are you joking? I'm still waiting to get my first."

"Look, going home on the bus tonight come and sit in the back seat with Ronnie and me. Some of the girls will come to see us as soon as Miss Roberts nods off. Just be yourself, don't attempt to be smart or rush at the tits. Just as little rub up the arm and ask something really uncomplicated like, 'Enjoy yourself today?' "

"Enjoy yourself today?" Mike murmured.

"And bloody well listen to her answer, and if appropriate reply with something really banal like, 'Me too'."

"Me too," Mike repeated.

"Then ask, if she's tired. She will nod and perhaps even yawn. Gently pull her down on to your shoulder and she will either go to sleep or possibly her brain will be racing overtime thinking how she's going to get you to start playing with her."

Mike boggled.

"But Dio, that's unbelievably easy. No girl is going to fall for that stuff. They want it in detail, and complicated with declarations of love and all of that."

"Don't you believe that crap, Mike, otherwise you'll die a virgin."

Mike trembled. For a long time that been his fear, and now someone had confronted him with it. He thought life was just one big pain!

At dinner Dio managed to seat himself beside Celina.

"You did very well today, Celina," he said, and immediately regretted it as obviously it had pressed Celina's button.

"Really, did you think so?" she breathed, moving closer to him.

"Ah, Celina; did you know that Mike has the hots for you?"

"Really?" she asked in surprise. "He's never indicated any interest?"

"Believe me, Celina he'd just love to slide his hand down your arm, signaling the next step is over to you."

"Really?" she said, turning to look at Mike who was ignoring the people around him and seemed to be practicing a speech.

In the darkened bus, with the head of Miss Roberts resting on her ample bosom, the silhouettes of four girls were briefly framed by the lights of an approaching car as they made their way to the back of the mini bus.

Both Dio and Mike remember the occasion well.

Claire and Liz made a beeline for Dio, sitting on each side of him, and Rachel sat beside Ronnie and immediately undid his shirt buttons. The arrival of those girls had pushed Mike into the corner, with no space beside him. So Celina simply plunked down on his knees, putting an arm around his neck for support.

Dio strained to keep an eye and ear on his protégé.

"Gee, your heart's thumping," Celina said.

"I can't hear yours," Mike said, not able to follow his briefing.

"Here, feel it," she said, placing his hand over her heart.

Mike panicked. He pulled his hand away quickly, saying "Yeah."

Dio's instruction flashed into his mind. He gently ran that same hot hand down the exposed skin of Celina's upper arm.

"Oh my God," she whimpered, and began to thrash around slightly.

"Are you okay Celina?" he whispered, wondering if she were cramping up.

"Here," she whispered.

Dio looking across at them grinned as he saw what it was.

"What's this?" asked Mike.

"My panties, Dickhead. Put them into your pocket and get going."

Back in town, Celina and Mike said goodbye to Dio. They wanted to walk home unaccompanied.

Dio was strolling along the footpath, trying to avoid stepping on cracks in the concrete, when suddenly the passenger door of a parked car ahead of him opened.

As he was passing the vehicle a voice called out, "Jump in, Dio."

He bent to see who it was. Sarisha smiled back at him.

"Sorry, Dio," she said, teeth and luminous eyes flashing. "I know you will have had a grueling weekend, but I just can't wait any longer. I'm thinking about you day and night. We've got to do it, otherwise I'll go crazy."

"I'll need some food and drink first," he warned.

"No problem – I'll treat you with a nice thick steak down at the pie cart at the bus station. Then we can tootle off to my place. The folk are not arriving home until tomorrow night. I'm going to really enjoy this, Dio. I've been thinking about it for such a long time, years in fact."

"I'll try my best," Dio grinned. "A double rum thick-shake will be of great help."

"Anything you want, Dio, anything at all," said Miss Sultry Eyes, reaching to pull him against her as Dio slid into the front seat. He tossed his bag into the back of the car and as she moved on to him her teeth gently bit into his lower lip.'

Sarisha was elated. She began driving off, glancing again at Dio, and hit the car parked immediately ahead with a glancing blow, severely denting its rear mudguard. That put an end to her plans for that evening.

After that bus trip, Celina and Mike went around together for a few months then drifted apart. They reunited at Celina's eighteenth birthday party and stayed in bed the whole of the next day, with Celina's mum bringing fresh towels, food and drink.

Downstairs her balding and still drunk father repeatedly thumped the table saying. "I'm not going to allow it; I'm not going to allow it." But then he always was a talker.

Mrs Rutter came into the kitchen with her dressing gown gaping open, her nightdress gone. She said to her husband, "Those two are getting me going. Come on you, to bed!"

"But it's only ten o'clock," protested Mr Rutter, but not really complaining. It was just his way of buying time to adjust to the prospect of sex before lunch.

"Come on, sweetie. Let's celebrate in bed. Celina has just told me that they're probably going to get married in the spring."

A month later Mike phoned Dio and asked him to be best man. Delighted, Dio accepted.

An hour later Celina arrived at Dio's house, his mother was out shopping.

"I've come to thank you the best way I know for bringing me and Mike together," she said, kicking the door closed.

That was fourteen years ago.

"What's up, love?" asked Celina, arriving back at Coffee Exotic from the bank. "You've certainly got a soppy look on your face."

"Just thinking about some of the ups and downs in my life," Dio replied.

She grinned, and then looking towards the kitchen yelled, "Mike!"

"Jeez," Dio said, holding his right ear. "What are you shouting for? You scared the daylights out of me."

"Oh, just to let Mike know I've back. He's probably pounding something in the chiller. I don't mind at all, but it just embarrasses me when I catch them at it. It's not the prettiest of sights, you know."

"Of course," was the neutral reply from Dio.

He made a polite exit before Celina began to ask him was Mike involved with anyone else.

Sara and Jane, 18 Cattle Race Lane – 3:30 Sharp

Two eighteen year-olds in high school uniform were waiting at the gate to the impressive two-storey house that was nicely balanced architecturally with turrets at both ends.

"Thank you for being on time," said the one identifying herself as Sara. "Listen, we can only afford thirty dollars so when that runs out you'll just have to leave. Sorry, but we are only school students you know, and my parents must not know about this."

"Right," said Dio, as they walked up the path and entered the house. The rooms he could see were expensively fitted with dark-stained and leather-covered sofas and chairs.

"What's the problem?"

"Well, one of the teachers at school gave Jane a web site address which she said was a pretty hot site – you know, two eighteen year olds getting down to it."

Struth, thought Dio; these two should be looking at the Disney channel. He'd need to proceed carefully.

"Look," he said. "show me where the computer is and then I want you two to clear off – stay some way from me working."

"But it's nothing...er...all right," said Sara.

The computer was in the study upstairs in her father's office. Sara said it was fortunate that her father had not used the computer since the sexy stuff had been downloaded. "We thought we would look at it, and then delete it. But it keeps coming back to haunt us," she said.

"Yeah, scary stuff," said Jane.

No passwords were involved, so Dio told the two girls to go downstairs.

He booted the computer and found it automatically opened to a lesbian oriented website. This was easily fixed. The original download had automatically installed the site's address as the computer's Internet browser's home address.