Spyware

“Turn it off,” croaked Sarah, her normally sweet voice sounding like the speech of the dead. No one moved toward the radio, but Justin, realizing that they were awake, lost all signs of mercy. He revved up his bulldozer, his lips buzzing for sound effects, and began ramming the orange plastic blade into Ray’s ribs.

Ray was too stunned by lingering sleep to respond at first. Disappointed, Justin stepped up the assault a notch, rolling the treads up his father’s side and over his bare chest. A hair or two was pulled.

“Is that your bulldozer?” asked Ray, his voice croaking with sleep.

“Nope. It’s a gray van daddy, and it’s commin’ to get you.”

“Whatever it is kid, knock it off,” rumbled Ray, closing his hand over his son’s small hand and the offending toy. He resisted the flash of anger that urged him to toss the toy across the room. He sighed and relaxed. It wasn’t Justin’s fault that his dad had had only three hours sleep.

Justin giggled and struggled free. He went back to lightly nudging Ray’s ribs. “I’m gettin’ you Daddy,” he said.

Ray knew what was expected. He grabbed his son in a bear hug and squeezed him, rubbing his knuckles in his blond hair and tickling him while he growled in his ear. “Outta here, kid.”

“No!”

“Go watch TV,” said Ray, feeling the instant pang of guilt all parents feel when they utter those words.

“No!”

Sarah mumbled something into her pillow. Ray slapped her rear lightly.

“What did you say?”

“Spongebob is on!” she said more intelligibly, raising her head from the pillow for a moment.

“All right!” said Justin, and he was gone in a flash.

Ray struggled out of bed. The bulldozer tumbled off the sheets and he found it again with his feet. “Ouch.”

He smiled at the shapely form of his wife in the sheets. Her dark hair flowed over her pillow in disarray. He thought of climbing back into bed and curling up to her, but there wasn’t time. With a sigh, he touched the snooze button on top of the clock radio to silence it for ten precious minutes as he headed for the shower.

Thursday had begun.

***

Sarah filled a bowl of cereal for Justin and managed to get most of his clothes on. His shoes were still off, however. Shoes were never easy to get onto Justin, it was always a careful negotiation. That was Ray’s job, as he didn’t have to be to work until nine for his office hours, while Sarah had to be in by eight.

“You’ve got to drop him off at school today,” said

Sarah, passing him in the hall on her way to shower. “I don’t think he should be walking this early, it looks like rain.”

“Yeah, daddy. I don’t want to walk,” chimed in Justin.

“No problem,” mumbled Ray, forcing a smile. He was determined not to let his true state show through. Sarah had been asleep when he came in last night and didn’t know just how late he had stayed at the lab. In truth, the shower had made him feel almost human, but now he was fading again fast. He knew he needed to eat, that would keep him going for awhile.

Sarah halted in the hallway and turned to look at him. She narrowed her eyes. “You sound like a toad in a well,” she remarked. “Are you sick?”

He shook his head, grinning weakly.

Her suspicions grew, and she came up to him, looking up at her tall husband critically. She laid a hand on his chest. “Just how late were you out last night?”

Ray shrugged, feeling like he’d been caught at something. “Uh, maybe midnight or so.”

“Or so? Maybe one-or two?”

Ray shrugged again, but made no denial.

“Hmm…” said Sarah, frowning now. “You don’t need to kill yourself to run that lab, you know, Ray. They only give you twenty percent release time for it and you spend eighty percent of your time there.”

“We had a problem. There was some weird activity on the net. We couldn’t shut down for maintenance,” said Ray. He kissed her on the top of the head and escaped to the refrigerator, where he got out the milk and poured himself some cereal in a paper bowl.

“You know,” said Sarah, following him. “If Brenda was more attractive, I’d be wondering about you two.”

“Yup,” said Ray around his spoon. “You know me, I’m a chubby-chaser.”

“Chubby-chaser! Ha!” shouted Justin, looking up from his half-eaten, half-spilled breakfast. Then the commercial ended and the cartoon pulled his attention back like a magnet.

“What kind of weird activity?” asked Sarah.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready, Babe?”

Sarah frowned and crossed her arms.

Inwardly, Ray groaned. When Sarah felt protective, she turned into a detective. “It was Nog. He was eating up twelve gigabits at once and FTPing all over the place.”

“Twelve gigabits? You mean the Nog?”

“Yup, the very one that followed you around after night-classes in college and sent you all that e-mail.”

“Yuck,” said Sarah. “Does he still have a forked-tongue?”

“I imagine so. Old snake-man, they used to call him.”

“I never knew how that happened to him.”