"State your name for the record."
"Catherine Analise Trevor."
"Your relationship to the defendants?"
"Friend." Anger radiated from the chair next to one of the defense attorneys. I cleared my throat and corrected, "Former friend of Sharon. I've never seen Elise before today."
"Can you please walk the court through the process by which you came to be in possession of the emails in question?" he asked, as though he hadn't already heard the whole story.
"Certainly, sir. I'll try to be as brief as possible, but it's a bit ... confusing in places, because so many people were involved." I felt the color rise in my face. I was about to say things in a court of law like "threesome" and "lesbian lover," while revealing the passwords used by the two defendants for their email accounts. "DoMeUpTheButt" and "LickMeLand." It was going to be a long afternoon ...
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jack put the computer desk down in the center of the living room. "So, Cat - where do you want the most important piece of furniture you own?"
I stacked a box labeled 'Kitchen' on top of two others labeled 'Books' and walked back into the room, slowly turning around to figure out the exact right spot for my cyber sanctuary.
"The Internet connection is right there by the window - how about that?" Jack asked after I didn't answer right away, obviously not impressed by the amount of importance I was giving this decision. While he was being more helpful than expected, given the circumstances, I still thought it should take more than playing U-Haul man for me to forgive him.
"Umm, sure, that should be fine for now." I actually had already decided it would be the second most perfect spot (the first being back in the Dover apartment he was moving me out of, a week before he planned to lock the door for the final time). "Can you bring my rig up next? I want to make sure everything is running before you leave, if you don't mind."
"No problem - that was the plan. Remember, me Hardware Geek, you Internet Geek?"
I had to laugh, and almost forgot for a moment we were no longer a couple. He chuckled and headed down the stairs while I stayed behind to unpack the box with my ritual tools. I wouldn't be able to sleep in this new space if I didn't know for sure my Gaia statuette made it through the trip unscathed.
His next trip up yielded my computer monitor, and in short order the rest of my rig was set up on my desk, ready to go. "Would you like the honor?" He gestured to the power button, and I nodded while turning it on, holding my breath for a second until I saw the familiar login screen.
"So far, so good." He sat in the computer chair. "I'll make sure you're all set and online, then we can grab the last of the stuff out of the truck."
"Thanks, that would be great."
"Hey, it's the least I could do, since..."
His voice trailed off, and I searched my brain for something to change the subject. The last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of Jack on the first day in my first solo New Hampshire apartment.
My last place before Jack had been in my hometown of Gloucester, Massachusetts. We met when his alarm company job took him from his home in Rochester, New Hampshire, and placed him in a foreign country of fishermen and artists. We had dated for almost four years before his company decided to close the satellite office and return to their main location. Jack then popped the question - he held my hand tenderly as we waited for our steak tips at The Pilot House and asked, "Will you move in with me?" I packed up my life and followed him across the state line. That was less than a year ago.
"Hey, Cat... the Internet doesn't seem to be working. You did call the cable company and have it switched on, right?"
"I didn't have to," I said, grateful for something mundane to talk about to keep me from the unwelcome trip down memory lane. "My landlord Shirley said the place came with everything - heat, electric, and stuff."
"Stuff? Did you get that in writing?"
"Okay, so maybe 'stuff' is too technical a word, but it says right in the lease all utilities are included." I pulled a copy of the lease out of my messenger bag, and showed Jack the paragraph.
"Umm, Cat. It does say heat and electric, but nothing about phone or Internet."
"But...," My brain refused to wrap around the concept that I was without my lifeline to the cyber world. "She said all..."
He laughed. "Cat, people don't usually consider the Internet to be one of the necessities of life. At least you have your cell phone, right?"
I immediately dove back into my bag, digging for my phone.
"What's the 911?"
"Shirley said she'd be home all afternoon, if I needed anything," I said. I dialed her number, then took deep breaths in time with each ring, chanting, "It's an easy fix... it's an easy fix... it's an... oh hi, it's Cat..."
I hung up a few minutes later, momentarily speechless.
"Well?"
"She said while they had the internet included for their last tenant, it was a special situation and Shirley didn't realize it when she talked to me. That's why it wasn't in the lease." I felt light-headed and ridiculous. I didn't shed a single tear when packing boxes - well, not too many anyway - but I find out I have no email and I'm struggling to hold back Niagara Falls. I tried to focus on a way out of this. "It's still early afternoon on a Thursday - there's a chance they could come over today and hook me up, right?"
Jack slowly shook his head in a not particularly comforting manner. I waved him off and grabbed the Newmarket phone book from the counter. Ten stress-filled minutes later, I hung up.
"Two weeks. That's the soonest they can get here."
"Really? Even though you told them you needed the Internet more than you needed food and air?"
"It's not funny!" I said with mock anger, tears forgotten. I picked up the nearest soft thing to throw at him, which turned out to be a potholder.
He laughed and ducked. "Keep chucking things at me and I won't tell you my brilliant idea to get you through the next two weeks."
I froze in place, another weapon in hand. "Tell me now, or I'm warning you - I've got a kitchen towel and I know how to use it."
"Whatever happened to the whole fly and honey thing?"
"The fly didn't need to log onto the Farscape bulletin board and post a message for Ben Browder's memory book before the convention."
He raised his hands in defeat. "I'm going to grab another load from the truck, but think about this while I'm down there - you have a wireless network card in your computer. Couldn't you check for unsecured networks in the neighborhood?"
Almost instantly, the angel and devil popped onto my respective shoulders and began their debate.
Angel whispered in one ear, "It's illegal and not nice to piggyback."
Devil groused in the other, "Anyone who doesn't secure their network gets what they deserve."
"Yes, but hello - illegal. And you know Cat so couldn't pull off Rockingham County Orange with her coloring."
"It's only illegal if we get caught. Besides, how else can she do her daily donations at the Hunger Site."
Angel broke down, admitted it might be for the greater good, and before I knew it I was in the computer chair, searching for networks.
I found two on my first try. One had pretty low connectivity, so I decided against it. The other one had a very strong signal. Not surprising, given it was called "5NicholsAve," which was our building. I took a deep breath, promised myself I would only use it for a brief moment each day to check messages and clicked "connect."
After my Google homepage was fully loaded, I sat for a moment, staring at the screen. Jack came back upstairs, deposited more boxes in the corner of the room, then looked over my shoulder to see what was holding my interest. He asked, "What are you waiting for - lightning to strike?"
His nearness and easy familiarity made it difficult to dig up a comeback, but I managed, "Nope - just waiting for their bank account to finish transferring to mine." He grinned, and we apparently had the same thought at the same moment - how much of their information was shared on their unsecured network?
He grabbed a couple of cold beers out of the fridge (yes, the six pack was the first thing I unpacked), pulled up a folding camp chair, and watched as I tentatively poked around the network. I quickly realized this person, or people, had to have won the award for "most blindly trusting ever." Not only were the usual shared folders shared - this network was also set up so all the computers in the house, and the printer, were connected and open to anyone who wanted to remotely plug in.
"Check out the picture folder," said my ever-porn-loving ex, and I opened it up. Much to his disappointment, the closest thing to naked pictures were a couple of women with towels on their heads, looking like they were doing some kind of home party makeover thing. "Think they're more than friends?" he smirked, and I reminded him women tend to be much more demonstrative with each other without any kind of sexualization attached to it.
"Remember Charlene?" I asked, thinking of my college friend who was very huggy and physical with me.
He immediately went to his, 'Oh and please don't try to tell me she wasn't trying to get you into bed. She so wanted you,' speech and I had to slap him on the arm. It was disconcerting how easy it was to fall into our old banter. I started searching on the hard drive for something to change the subject.
"Hey, looks like they love the show 'Charmed'," I said, pointing out a folder with various episodes from the different seasons.
Jack said, "Just wait till they find out their upstairs neighbor is a real life Wiccan-witch, who is forever annoyed with the 'Charmed' story lines, even though she has a crush on half the cast."
I realized the only way to back the conversation out of dangerous territory would be to walk away from the computer completely.
"Okay, okay - you win. But I'm not going to compound my evilness in 'borrowing' the Internet by spying on my neighbors. Especially since they go to church with my mother and brother - remember? That's how I heard this place was for rent to begin with. Let’s finish emptying the truck before my brother-in-law thinks I stole it and I'm on my way to Canada." I closed down the folder and shut off my monitor.
"Canada? Isn't Mexico the usual destination for criminals on the run? It's certainly a much warmer choice." He stood up and stretched, a few stray beams of sun illuminating his face in the process.
"Yes, but since it is the usual destination, more people would look for me there. Besides, I took French in high school, not Spanish, so my odds of understanding someone recognizing my face from the most wanted poster greatly improve," I tossed back, trying not to notice how blue his eyes were in the light.
"Yeah, and on that note, time to move the boxes - much easier than sending you cakes with files baked inside."