“What?”
“Photos, you can send them over the internet.”
The voice from below the desk rose up again. “You can look stuff up too.”
“Like what?”
Vic raised the proverbial eyebrow. “How to operate a computer, for one.”
“This is just the slippery slope toward a cell phone.”
“We can only hope.”
“I’m not opening the box.”
“Fine, see if we care.”
I stood there for a few moments more, but when it became obvious that they weren’t going to entertain my anxieties, I turned and went back toward my own office. Once there, I stared at the large box for a moment and then picked it up and sat it on the floor by the wall. Sitting in my chair, I propped my feet on it, crossing my boots and thinking maybe the thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all. I could get it a small tablecloth and maybe a lamp.
“I see you’ve found a use for your computer?”
I looked up to find Ruby in my doorway. “I’m not opening that Pandora’s box.”
“Okay.” She walked over and handed me another Post-it. “Unsurprisingly, Abarrane is not answering his phone, but his wife tells me they’ve owned that house for years and that they usually rent it out, but it’s been empty at least the last six months.”
I took the Post-it. “Okay.”
“You can call her or go visit her yourself. You know she gets things mixed up.”
She started to go, but I caught her with my words. “Are you mad at me?”
“Yes, I am.” She leaned on the jamb and refused to make eye contact. “I’m too old for this foolishness. Name me another sheriff in this state that doesn’t have a computer?”
I sat there, silent.
“Human life is a story of evolution and change, and you are not adapting to the tune of technology. We’re not asking you to split the atom here, Walter.” With this, she turned and walked out, her voice trailing after her. “It’s selfish, and I’m tired of it.”
----
—
“Dog’s not mad at me.” I kneaded his ear as he rested his head on my knee and listened to the whine of telecommunicationbetween here and Cheyenne. “He doesn’t seem to care if I have a computer or not.”
“He’s not the one who has to print out your emails and type up all your answers.”
I nodded at the air as the monster stretched and then curled up beside my desk, probably wondering why we weren’t going home. “You think I’m being selfish?”
“The results are selfish, and since Ruby’s the one who is dealing with it, I’d watch my step if I were you.”
“Meaning?”
“How old is Ruby, Dad?”
I adjusted the receiver against my ear. “I honestly don’t know. I find it best to not ask women those kinds of questions.”
“Past retirement age, and the only thing that keeps her there is you.”
“You really think she’d quit on me?”
Cady sighed, and I could feel the waves of annoyance drifting north. “It’s a possibility, and I don’t think what she’s asking is all that outrageous.”
“I don’t want to lose her.”
“I can see why—you’ve never been without her, and I can’t even imagine what a cluster that place would be if she left.”
“So, take the computer?”
“Take the computer for God’s sake; answer a few emails and keep her happy . . . try and keep all the women in your life happy . . . life’s easier that way in case you haven’t noticed.”
I sat there for a moment before continuing the line of thought. “Do I keep you happy?”
“Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” I waited a moment, but she didn’t add anything more. “You haven’t been up for a visit in a while.”
“. . . I’ve been kind of busy, Dad, trying to catch up.” There was a long pause. “I’m just attempting to get my life back to normal.”
“Normal.”
“Yeah, normal.” Another pause. “That wasn’t easy in Mexico, Dad.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“I mean, maybe you’re used to that kind of stuff—”
“You never get used to that kind of stuff,
“Photos, you can send them over the internet.”
The voice from below the desk rose up again. “You can look stuff up too.”
“Like what?”
Vic raised the proverbial eyebrow. “How to operate a computer, for one.”
“This is just the slippery slope toward a cell phone.”
“We can only hope.”
“I’m not opening the box.”
“Fine, see if we care.”
I stood there for a few moments more, but when it became obvious that they weren’t going to entertain my anxieties, I turned and went back toward my own office. Once there, I stared at the large box for a moment and then picked it up and sat it on the floor by the wall. Sitting in my chair, I propped my feet on it, crossing my boots and thinking maybe the thing wasn’t such a bad idea after all. I could get it a small tablecloth and maybe a lamp.
“I see you’ve found a use for your computer?”
I looked up to find Ruby in my doorway. “I’m not opening that Pandora’s box.”
“Okay.” She walked over and handed me another Post-it. “Unsurprisingly, Abarrane is not answering his phone, but his wife tells me they’ve owned that house for years and that they usually rent it out, but it’s been empty at least the last six months.”
I took the Post-it. “Okay.”
“You can call her or go visit her yourself. You know she gets things mixed up.”
She started to go, but I caught her with my words. “Are you mad at me?”
“Yes, I am.” She leaned on the jamb and refused to make eye contact. “I’m too old for this foolishness. Name me another sheriff in this state that doesn’t have a computer?”
I sat there, silent.
“Human life is a story of evolution and change, and you are not adapting to the tune of technology. We’re not asking you to split the atom here, Walter.” With this, she turned and walked out, her voice trailing after her. “It’s selfish, and I’m tired of it.”
----
—
“Dog’s not mad at me.” I kneaded his ear as he rested his head on my knee and listened to the whine of telecommunicationbetween here and Cheyenne. “He doesn’t seem to care if I have a computer or not.”
“He’s not the one who has to print out your emails and type up all your answers.”
I nodded at the air as the monster stretched and then curled up beside my desk, probably wondering why we weren’t going home. “You think I’m being selfish?”
“The results are selfish, and since Ruby’s the one who is dealing with it, I’d watch my step if I were you.”
“Meaning?”
“How old is Ruby, Dad?”
I adjusted the receiver against my ear. “I honestly don’t know. I find it best to not ask women those kinds of questions.”
“Past retirement age, and the only thing that keeps her there is you.”
“You really think she’d quit on me?”
Cady sighed, and I could feel the waves of annoyance drifting north. “It’s a possibility, and I don’t think what she’s asking is all that outrageous.”
“I don’t want to lose her.”
“I can see why—you’ve never been without her, and I can’t even imagine what a cluster that place would be if she left.”
“So, take the computer?”
“Take the computer for God’s sake; answer a few emails and keep her happy . . . try and keep all the women in your life happy . . . life’s easier that way in case you haven’t noticed.”
I sat there for a moment before continuing the line of thought. “Do I keep you happy?”
“Most of the time.”
“Most of the time?” I waited a moment, but she didn’t add anything more. “You haven’t been up for a visit in a while.”
“. . . I’ve been kind of busy, Dad, trying to catch up.” There was a long pause. “I’m just attempting to get my life back to normal.”
“Normal.”
“Yeah, normal.” Another pause. “That wasn’t easy in Mexico, Dad.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“I mean, maybe you’re used to that kind of stuff—”
“You never get used to that kind of stuff,
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