FanStory.com - What We See - Chapter 11Bby Jim Wile

Chapter 11B

An hour later, the man who had called yesterday with the frozen computer brought it in. It was an IBM PCjr computer that would no longer boot up. As I had no other repairs to make at the time, I told the man I could open it up right now and perhaps give him an immediate diagnosis. He said he would be glad to wait and would be interested in seeing the inside of his computer.

I invited him back to my work bench, where I removed the cover and looked inside. I suspected the motherboard was the culprit, and sure enough, it appeared blackened in a few areas where it looked like parts had melted on it.

“Did you happen to leave the computer on for an extended period of time?” I asked.

“I did leave it on one night. Do you think it overheated?”

“It’s a good possibility. If you look, there is a fan over here that cools the floppy disk drive, but it doesn’t cool the whole interior. This was not really built for extended usage, so it looks like being on for that length of time fried the motherboard.”

“Is that expensive to fix?”

“I’ll have to send for a new motherboard and replace it. It will cost you $250. It will take about a week to get a new one in and installed.”

“Hmm. That’s kind of a lot. I could buy a whole new Commodore 64 for $300, maybe even a little less.”

“This is a much nicer machine than the Commodore 64, though.”

“Yeah, but I’ve found I’m not using it to the extent I thought I would. It cost me $700 originally. My buddy has a Commodore 64 with some neat games and stuff, and I think that’s probably all I really need.”

I waited for him to decide what he wanted to do, but then I had a thought. “Tell you what. How about if I buy it from you for $300 as is? Then you’ll have enough to buy the Commodore 64, which you could go out and buy today.”

He thought about it for a few seconds. “Make it $350, and you’ve got a deal.”

“Alright, deal. Can I write you a check for the $350 right now?”

“Sure.”

I asked him his name and made out the check for him. We shook hands, and I gave him a business card.

When he had gone, I phoned an IBM replacement parts distributor and ordered a replacement motherboard. They told me I could expect it to arrive in a week. I had big plans for this computer.

Before the day was done, I got two more phone calls from two more potential customers who promised to bring their items in soon for repair. By closing time at 5:30, I had raked in $20 and spent $350. Not what you’d call a profitable day, but I did have many promising phone calls, and I’m sure business will pick up when word keeps getting out about the store.

Over the next few days, Tommy and I began settling into a pattern. He would come to work at 10:00 AM and work until 2:30. We would take a half hour for lunch at noon. We ate together at my kitchen table, but I left the door to the store open so that we could hear if any customers entered.

We mainly talked baseball. He was a big White Sox fan like I was, but he also enjoyed watching the Cubs play. He was looking forward to his little league game on Saturday and told me all about his team.

“So, what position do you play?” I asked him on Friday while polishing off my baloney sandwich.

“Mostly second base, but sometimes I play catcher too. I love second, though. Last game, I turned a double-play. It was really rad!”

“Are you a good hitter?”

“Pretty good. I’ve got a .308 batting average. I’m fast too, but sometimes not quite fast enough. Last game I tried stretching a single into a d-double, but I got hung up in a rundown.”

“Bit of a wicky sticket, huh?” He cracked up at that. “So, what happened?”

“I eventually got tagged out by the first baseman.”

“Well, I look at it like this: if you never get caught trying to turn a single into a double, you’re probably not trying it as often as you should.”

“Huh, I never thought of that.”

“I’m looking forward to your game tomorrow. Just remember, I’ll be about a half-hour late if you’re looking for me because I have to work until 2:00. But I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Alan.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon until he left at 2:30 working on a TV set.

Archie liked to watch as Tommy and I worked. He would jump up on the workbench and supervise when he wasn’t pawing at dangling wires. Tommy loved to pet him, and Archie ate it up, his little motor running constantly. Archie also liked to greet customers when they came in the shop and would jump up on the counter, where they would talk to him and pet him. He was a people-cat and very friendly to just about everyone.

After Tommy left, I spent the rest of the afternoon working on a vacuum cleaner and a rotating fan until closing time at 5:30. Business was beginning to pick up, and I called the paper to renew my ad. I’m hoping to get even more business through word-of-mouth.

I’m only open for half a day on Saturdays and closed on Sundays. Tommy worked Monday through Friday, so I was by myself on Saturday. I took in a couple of new items for repair—a stand mixer and a radio.

At 1:30, I got a call from a doctor at the VA hospital. My dad had had an accident. Apparently, a workman was repairing a light fixture but didn’t have the correct screwdriver and left momentarily to go retrieve one. Unfortunately, he didn’t take his ladder down and just left it in place. My father came along at that time and, for some reason, decided to climb the ladder. He lost his balance and fell off, hitting his head on the floor and passing out. He was immediately moved to the emergency room, and the staff called me, saying that he was unconscious and that I should probably come quickly.

I tried calling Ginnie to tell her I wouldn’t make it to the game after all, but apparently, they had already left because there was no answer and no answering machine to leave a message on. I knew this would be disappointing to both of them and would betray the trust that I had built up with them, but there was nothing for it, and I had to go to the hospital. My dad might not survive this, and I wanted to be with him if this was the end.

I tried one last thing and left a yellow sticky note on their front door, saying very briefly that I had to go to the VA hospital because my dad had had an accident. I knew they wouldn’t see it before I was supposed to show up at the game, but there was nothing else I could do. Then I left for the VA, anxious and with a heavy heart.