F A Technical Hitch

A Technical Hitch.
I didn't want to die. I was only twenty and far too full of life and
mischief. I had everything going for me - a family who adored me and
pampered me unashamedly, a good job with a leading computer company and
dozens of friends who looked upon me as though I was some kind of idol.
And the girls swooned at my feet! Oh yes, I was very handsome
too.
People always did exactly what I told them to and I like to think that
I would have become a very powerful figure if I'd lived a bit longer. I
would probably have been Prime Minister, actually - because I certainly
know how to treat people and how to get them to do the right things. I
don't really understand how I came to have this hold over my friends
and family. But I'm sure that it was something to do with my stubborn
nature and my brooding, black moods that would last for days - or until
I got my own way. Well, you see, I knew that I was always right, so it
wasn't difficult to be stubborn about issues which required intelligent
handling. Oh, yes, I was very intelligent, too. That's one of the main
reasons why everyone loved me so much.
But I think, in all honesty, that it was my sense of fun and my spirit
of adventure that really captivated people. If there was a challenge to
be met then it was always good old me who was elected the one to take
it up. Because I was always game. And I would always emerge victorious
and give everyone cause for celebration. Until tonight, that is. It had
been my insatiable desire for glory that had been my downfall, I'm
afraid. When Richard challenged me to climb the pylon I really believed
that the nine pints of bitter that I'd consumed earlier would have no
effect on my agility. But - for the first time that I can remember, I
was totally lacking in judgement.
When I realised that I was being electrocuted I made the decision to
get out of my body as quickly as possible. Call it instinct if you like
- but there's no doubt that that's why I'm still able to exist in the
world despite the fact that my body has frazzled to a crisp. The only
trouble is that I panicked at the very moment of death and I made a
dive for the one place where I could feel safe. Which is precisely why
I happen to be stuck here inside my computer. In retrospect, it was a
pretty stupid place to hide, because no-one else in the family knows
how to use it, and the chances of anyone discovering that I'm here are
about the same as winning the Lottery jackpot two weeks running. When I
was alive I would never let anyone touch my computer, you see, because
it was mine - and there were personal bits of information filed in it.
Nothing sordid, you understand - just little things that would have
embarrassed me if they were seen. Anyway, it was my express wish that
no-one ever switched it on - and everyone honoured that. I know this
because I programmed it to display the exact time that it was last
used. And I checked it every day. And, guess what? Not one member of my
family ever betrayed me, which just goes to show how much they all
pandered to me and respected my wishes. How much in awe of me they
were.
But, of course, it puts me in rather a difficult position today -
because if no-one ever switches it on, then I shall be compelled to
live out the rest of my death in this tiny monitor in this tiny bedroom
of mine. I know this because I have tried to get out many times and I
have failed. If I could remember exactly how I got in it would help -
but I was drunk and the route here is all a bit of a blur. All I can
hope is that Mum or Dad - or even Sue - will decide to find out how to
make it work. After all, if they want to get sentimental about me, then
the best way to do so would be to investigate the paths down which I
walked in life. And the channels of this computer are better than a
main road!

At last! Mum! I thought that you would never come. I'm so bored in
here that I've started to count the stripes on the wallpaper. No -
don't just sit there! Switch it on! Stop crying, Mum. Come on - move
your hand to the button on the disk drive&;#8230;&;#8230;

Aha! Sue! I knew that you'd come eventually! Mum wouldn't know how to
switch it on, but you do. You do computer studies at school so you must
know. If you'd just stop crying and start feeling curious it would help
me such a lot. No! Don't go!&;#8230;&;#8230;.

Mum - you're back! I won't shout if you turn it on. I know that I said
that I would kill anyone who did - but that was when I was alive. I
can't kill you now, can I? What are you staring at? Can you hear me?
Switch it on - for God's
sake!&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;&;#8230;

Dad! Haven't you got an ounce of curiosity? Staring at a blank screen
and shaking your head isn't going to bring me out! If you would just
switch it on I might just be able to communicate with you. I might be
able to make the keys work, and then we could have a conversation. But
I won't know unless you switch it on! What is Mum saying? It's hard to
hear her when she's burying her face in a
tissue&;#8230;&;#8230;..

Irene dabbed her eyes and blew her nose hard. Then she went upstairs
to sit in the shrine that had been Darren's bedroom until that awful
night a month before. Nothing in the room had been touched since his
death - she had made quite sure of that! Darren had always been adamant
about the fact that no-one was allowed to mess with his belongings. And
she was going to make sure that his wishes were carried out, even in
death.
Besides, although she had seen his body, she was not altogether sure
that his spirit wasn't lurking around the house somewhere. She felt it
especially strongly whenever she came into his room - and that was
precisely why she was reluctant to change anything. She smiled through
her tears as she remembered the little boy that he had been. He had
always possessed such strength of character. Really, she thought, he
could have been someone very important in the world if he had been
allowed to grow older. Whatever he had said was law as far as she had
been concerned - and her husband had never demurred, because he too
knew how people became putty in their son's hands.
She moved around the room, gently touching each object in turn -
trying to draw the spirit of her son from wherever it lay. Then she
came to the computer. This had been Darren's favourite distraction. She
thought of the hours that he had spent playing games and 'surfing the
Internet,' as he called it. She hadn't minded the 'phone bills in the
least. As long as Darren was happy - that was all that had mattered.
Suddenly she shivered. He was here - she could feel him. After all, she
was his mother, and she knew everything about him. She peered into the
blank green screen of the monitor and whispered,
"Darren? Are you in there?" She was sure that she heard a faint reply
and she cried out in joy. The noise brought her husband running
upstairs, with their daughter, Sue close on his heels.
"He's in here!" cried Irene. "I can sense his presence." Her husband
and daughter moved to her side and they put their arms around her
trembling shoulders.
"Come away, Mum - you're just upsetting yourself," said Sue. "Of
course he isn't in there. How could he be?"
"Irene - you're going to make yourself ill," said David. "Come on
downstairs and I'll make us all a nice cup of tea. Darren has gone to
Heaven, and we can't bring him back. You must accept that." Irene stood
up, but there was a mutinous expression on her face.
"He's in there, I tell you," she said flatly.

Thank God! Mum - you're a genius! Now all you have to do is to switch
on the computer. Don't you see that? Oh well - I suppose one more day
in here won't hurt. I know you'll be back tomorrow when Dad has gone to
work and Sue's at school. Then I'll find a way to make you switch it
on.
Darren began to contemplate what would happen if no-one switched it
on. Well, for a start, he'd have to lead the most boring death in
existence. Other ghosts had the opportunity to move around - but he
couldn't go anywhere. Other ghosts were able to make strange hooting
noises, and they could manifest themselves at will. But he was forced
into silence until he could use the bleeps of the computer as a means
of communication. All right - she knew that he was here - and that was
a start. But it wasn't enough to be of any real help to him. Not until
someone switched it on!

The following day Irene waited until the house was empty, and then, as
Darren had predicted, went upstairs to his room and sat before the
monitor. She had been crying again, he saw, and the area where his
throat would have been constricted with sadness. At once he was sorry
that he hadn't realised until now how much she had loved and understood
him. Probably he didn't deserve all the love that she felt for him. But
he would make it up to her just as soon as she switched on the
computer. His first words in death would be, 'Mum - I love you.'
The tears were coursing down her cheeks and she wasn't even bothering
to wipe them away.
"I know that you can hear me, Darren," she sobbed. "I can feel you
watching me and trying to talk to me. I can't hear you - but I know
exactly what you're saying."
Darren felt a surge of hope. She was going to switch it on, he
realised. Then she squinted into the screen and smiled a watery
smile.
"You're saying, 'Don't let anyone switch on my computer,' aren't you?
Well, don't worry, darling - I give you my promise that as long as
there is breath in my body - no-one ever will!"

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