Pythian Games

put on your track shoes and write the miles

At Her Age

with one comment

 

By Kerry Vincent © 2008

 

            Josh really didn’t want to waste an afternoon driving out to the country, but Amy begged him to, and he really liked Amy. 

            “We don’t have to stay very long, Josh, just enough to set up Aunt Lou’s new computer.  You can set up a workstation in your sleep,” Amy reminded him.

            “OK.  As long as she doesn’t make us stay for dinner or something like that.  You know how lonely old ladies are – they just want to talk you to death,” Josh grumbled.

            “In and out, I promise,” Amy said.

            They turned down the gravel road that led to Aunt Lou’s log cabin.  Athena, a yellow lab, ran out to greet them, barking like crazy.  Isis, a calico cat sleeping on the porch, barely looked up at the visitors.  The young people got out and walked up to the porch, dodging homemade wind chimes and ducking under low-hanging baskets of pansies. 

Amy knocked on the front door, which was painted turquoise and coral.  “Aunt Lou loves the desert look,” Amy explained.

            “I can tell,” Josh said, looking at a bleached cow skull nailed above the mailbox.  “This is kind of creepy.”

            “Oh, Josh, she’s just a harmless little old lady.  She probably just got a computer so she can see pictures of the grandkids or shop QVC online.  Just get the machine set up, and we can get back in time to watch American Idol.”   

            Aunt Lou welcomed them.  “Hello, Amy, and this must be your young man, Josh…Come in, come in…Can I get you some tea?  Juice?  Coca-Cola?”

            “Just water is fine, Aunt Lou,” Amy said.

            “Alright.  The computer’s in there, on the dining room table.  Take a look,” said Aunt Lou, and trotted off to the kitchen.  She came back with three glasses of ice water and a plate of gingersnaps.

            Josh was impressed with the hardware, the deluxe laser printer, although he thought so much memory would be a waste for Aunt Lou – she didn’t even play video games.  She had a nice set up.  He clicked on the Control Panel, made some adjustments, tested the Internet connection, plugged in some wires, and in less than 15 minutes, he announced, “You’re good to go.  Want me to bookmark some Favorites for you or anything?”

            “Oh, no, dear, I think I can figure that out myself.  As long as I can get to my email and the Internet, I can take it from there.  I want to get in touch with some of my retired teacher friends.  They can walk me through if I get stuck.”

            “Sweet,” Josh said. 

            “I suppose you young people have better things to do than sit with an old gal like me,” Aunt Lou said.  “Run along now.  I’ll be fine.”

            “I worry about you getting bored out here,” said Amy. 

“I’m fine – and now I can write my friends emails – thanks to you!  Don’t worry about me.  My life may not seem exciting to you, but I’m happy,” Aunt Lou said.

“Well, then, if you’re OK, I guess we’ll take off.  Good-bye, now….”  Amy and Josh went to the car and drove off. 

            “Do you think Aunt Lou gets lonely, living out there in the sticks all by herself?” Josh asked.

            “I dunno – she never complains,” Amy said.  “She’s got her hobbies, her painting and crocheting, and now she can email her old school cronies if she gets too bored.  I guess when you get old, you slow down, and don’t need much excitement anymore.”

           

           

Back at the cabin, Aunt Lou had the Internet fired up, ready to surf.  She laughed out loud and said, “Look out, Lemuria, here I come!”

             

 

Written by kvwordsmith

May 7, 2008 at 7:04 pm

One Response

Subscribe to comments with RSS.

  1. Hey, Kerry, I love it…especially the punch line at the end.

    Vi

    woodnymph

    May 8, 2008 at 1:32 pm


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: