Karen Anne Golden - The Cats That 03 - The Cats That Told a Fortune (2 page)

Chapter Two

It was the first day of computer training at the pink mansion.  Although Katherine had proposed the classroom design the previous spring, the project had run into various snags.  Windows were ordered, didn’t fit, and had to be shipped back.  The electrical work was not up to code and had to be rewired.  The new HVAC was difficult to install.  But now in October, the new classroom was finally ready for the first group of students. 

Katherine had po
ured over numerous applications.  It was difficult to select four candidates for the first course, so she wrote their names on tiny folded cards and dropped them in a large crystal bowl.  Scout and Abra were eager to help with the selection.  They fished out a card, played with it for a while and then pierced it with a fang mark – sometimes with multiple punctures.  Scout preferred to clutch the card in her brown paws and chew on it, while Abra daintily bit the corner.  Katherine selected five fang-marked cards, the fifth being a backup in case one of the other students failed to complete the course.

Katherine had decided to first teach the basics of computing.  The class would meet twice a week, with the second session devoted to practice.  The course would last four weeks.  Students would be introduced to various hardware, standalones,
laptops, notebooks, and tablets, then move on to keyboarding, word processing, and creating spreadsheets.  Each workstation was equipped with a large-screen monitor and a pull-out shelf for a keyboard and wireless mouse.  A printer was connected to each station, and a desktop computer was tucked below, on a shelf.  Katherine was a pro at designing efficient, comfortable workspaces, because one of her tasks in Manhattan had been to make each work cubicle an efficient place to work – from the height of the keyboard, to the ergonomic design of the office chair. 

Katherine was excited about the first day, but also a little bit nervous.  Her last training session at her old job in New York had been eight months ago.  After she unlocked the classroom door, she made sure each desktop copy stand held the day’s lesson.  Realizing she’d forgotten to add paper to the tray on her printer, she left the room to walk into the far part of the basement where she kept office supplies.  She was busy removing a ream of paper from the case when someone quietly walked up behind her.  With the ream in hand, she turned and screamed, dropping the paper on the floor.

“What do you want?” she asked, frightened.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to scare you.  I’m your new student, Glen.  I was looking for the restroom,” he apologized.

Katherine felt her heart pounding and said firmly, “It’s located right outside the classroom.”  She didn’t move until the student left. 

Creepy
, she thought. 
How strange I didn’t hear him.  He was practically right on top of me
.

Returning to the classroom, she found two students sitting at their workstations, making small talk.  Glen strolled in and took a seat.  Katherine was loading the paper in her printer when a voluptuous woman in her early thirties stormed in loudly.  She wore a low-neck sweater, with cleavage that would rival any geologic fissure. Dressed entirely in pink, she sported enough “bling” to cause temporary blindness.  She threw a haughty glance around the room, spotted Katherine behind her desk, and laughed,
“Oh, ha! Ha!  Sorry, I’m late, Teach.”  She threw her large Coach handbag on the floor and noisily sat down.  “I take it this is where I’m supposed to sit,” she smirked.

“Yes,” Katherine said.  “My name is Katherine Kendall.  You can call me Katz.”

“Oh, ha! Ha!  What a stupid name,” the student stated, then said sheepishly, “I was just kidding.”

Katherine
glared at her and continued, “I’d like to get to know all of you, so let’s spend a few minutes introducing ourselves.”

The overbearing woman said, “My name is Barbie.  People call me Barbie!  Get it?”

“What do you wish to take from this course?” Katherine asked, as she imagined giving Barbie a smack.

“Oh, a tour of the pink murder house,” Barbie blurted, then instantly countered, “Just kidding.”

With difficulty, Katherine ignored the remark and moved on.  “There were numerous applications for this course.  We held a lottery and selected the fab four.” 
Lottery
, Katherine thought,
with feline assistants
.  “Let me ask you again, what do you want to learn?”

“Duh, about computers,” Barbie said, rolling her eyes.

Katherine ignored this remark as well and looked at Glen, who moments earlier had scared her half to death.  He was in his early twenties and had piercing blue eyes.  He sported a shaved head.  His hair had to be light, because he had very bushy blond eyebrows.  Dressed entirely in black, he had a gleaming gold earring in his ear.  He was sitting next to Barbie.  Katherine asked, “Glen, why are you taking this course?”

“Oh,” he answered quickly.
  “I applied so I can try for the manager’s job at the restaurant.”

“What, flipping hamburgers ain’t good enough for you?” Barbie observed under her breath.

The young man threw a dirty look aimed at Barbie and said, “I’d watch it if I were you.”

Katherine realized her first day of class was not going very well. 
“Glen, for the class, what’s your last name?”

“Frye.”

Barbie said sarcastically, “Fry burger, get it?”

“Enough, Barbie,” Katherine snapped.  “Can we dispense with the comments?  You’re holding up the class.”

“Yes, Barbie,” Michelle from the library said.  Michelle was wearing her signature black turtleneck, black tights, and black ballerina slippers.

“Oh, touchy-touchy,” Barbie commented.

“Michelle, what do you wish to gain from the course?”  Katherine asked.

“I think it would help me to do a better job at the library.”

Barbie brought her hand up to her mouth like she was going to say something, but didn’t.

“Good reason,” Katherine said.  She directed her attention to a waif of a girl sitting next to Michelle.  “I’m Leslie,” the girl spoke in a tiny voice.  Her hair was bright red and cut very short in layers.  She wore large, rhinestone eyeglasses.  “I’d like to learn more about computers so I can get a part-time admin job at the university.”

“Okay,” Katherine said.  “These are great reasons.  My goal is to get you where you want to be.”  She then began teaching about the hardware.  “This tower contains the brain of the computer.  The computer brain is a microprocessor called the Central Processing Unit, or CPU.  It contains millions of transistors that manipulate data.”  Katherine continued her explanation, until two tall, svelte Siamese trotted in.  Together in one fluid bound, Scout and Abra jumped on Katherine’s desk.  “Waugh,” Scout said to Abra’s “raw.”

“Ahhh,” Leslie said, “Wayne told me you had cats.  They’re beautiful.  What kind are they?”

“Siamese,” Katherine said proudly.  She was going to say more, but Barbie cut her off.

“Siamese are mean like those cats in
Lady and the Tramp
.”  Barbie then launched into a terrible rendition of the “We are Siamese” song.

Glen leaned over and muttered, “Only mean to people like you, Barbie.”

Scout and Abra stared at the rude student.  Scout’s whip-like tail was thumping angrily on the desk.

Katherine said, “If it’s all right, we’ll let them stay until they get bored.  Then they’ll take their leave.”

“Okay by us,” Michelle said.  “They’re really cute.”

Barbie asked, “Did they cost a lot?  How much money would you make if you sold them?”

Katherine looked aghast and said hastily, “My cats are my family.  They’re in their forever home.  I would
never
sell them.”

“Oh, ha!
Ha!” Barbie said loudly.  “I was just kidding.”

Once the hardware part of the lecture was finished, Katherine moved onto the basics of keyboarding.  “In this class, you’ll break the habit of hunting and pecking.  I will show you the correct position of your fingers on the keyboard.  Take a look at your copy stand.  The first diagram illustrates the middle horizontal row of the keyboard that begins with the letter A.  This is known as the home row
.”

“This is stupid,” Barbie broadcasted.  “I don’t need to learn this.  I’m fine with my thumbs.  Look,” she said, pounding the keyboard with her thumbs. 

“I bet you’re good with your thumbs,” Glen said suggestively.  “But will you please shut up,” he implored. 

“You don’t tell me to shut up, burger slinger,” Barbie said, standing up.

Katherine had grown furious.  Grabbing a twenty dollar bill out of her desk drawer, which was the low cost of the course, she briskly walked over to Barbie.  “Do you know what a New York minute is?”

“Why should I?  I live in Indiana,” Barbie said cynically.

Katherine quickly evaluated the size of this rude woman, who clearly outweighed her by two to one.  She wondered which way she should duck if Barbie threw a punch.

“A New York minute is the amount of time it’s going to take you to gather your stuff and get out of my class,” Katherine snapped.

“But I paid.  You can’t do that!” Barbie said indignantly.

Katherine slammed the twenty on the workstation.  “Yes, I can.  Now leave,” she demanded.

“Fine,” Barbie said, yanking her handbag off the floor and heading to the door.  “This is a stupid waste of time anyway.  And by the way, your short hair looks like crap!  Jennifer Lawrence you ain’t.”  Barbie slammed the door after her.

“Thank you, Lord,” Glen said, raising his hands in the air.

“I second that,” Michelle said irritably.

“Yay
,” Leslie added. “People can be so rude.”

Katherine regained her composure and apologized, “Let’s move on.  How many of you already know the basics of keyboarding?”

The three remaining students raised their hands.

“Okay, let’s try an exercise.  I want to find out how many words per minute
you type.  On your copy stand are several paragraphs of text.  I want you to type it.  I’ll time you.  I’ll give you a few seconds to get ready.  Once you begin typing I’ll call time in one minute.”

The students put their fingers on their keyboards.

“Ready, get set.  Go,” Katherine said, clicking her stopwatch.

*
              *              *

The two hours wore on until it was time to end the class.  The students seemed to appreciate what they had learned, and left with a sense of accomplishment. 

As Leslie headed to the door, she said, “Wayne and I can’t wait for the party.  It sounds like so much fun.”

“You’re welcome,” Katherine said, smiling.

Michelle lingered behind and gave Katherine a serious look, “Hey, watch out for that Barbie woman.  Do you know who she is?”

“No, just a loud mouth, ne’er-do-
well.”

“She’s the daughter of Sam Sanders.  He’s got tons of kids, from several different marriages, mostly sons.  Barbie is his only daughter, and she’s spoiled rotten.”

“Got that last part.  Who’s Sam Sanders?” Katherine asked.

“He’s the patriarch of one of the biggest crime families in Erie.”

“What?” Katherine asked, disbelieving what she had heard. 

“Yep, from meth to massage parlors,” Michelle said, continuing, “I guess since you’re from New York, you know about the mob.  Well, Sam Sanders
is Erie’s version of John Gotti.  So watch your back.”

“Good to know,” Katherine said.  “Thanks for the heads up.  What did Glen’s remark to Barbie about ‘thumbs’ mean?  The way he said it sounded like an innuendo.”

Michelle giggled, “Barbie runs one of the massage parlors.  Actually, it’s a brothel!”

Katherine looked shocked.  “Oh, my God!” she said.  “Where is it?”

“Oh, a few miles north of here, off the main drag.  Barbie’s got a trailer in a run-down trailer court.”

“Run-down?
  But she was carrying an expensive Coach bag,” Katherine observed.

“Must do well with what she does,” Michelle said with a twinkle in her eye.  “Every once in a while the place gets busted.  Barbie gets arrested for
this, that and the other, but she ‘lawyers up’ and gets out of it on some technicality.”

Changing the subject, Katherine said, “Speaking of ‘lawyering up,’ Mark Dunn told me Beatrice was sentenced last week, but he didn’t elaborate.”  Katherine remembered the day at the Ethel cemetery when the former Erie librarian shot Wayne, Jake’s metal-detecting friend.

“She did a plea bargain and got three years with probation.  The prosecutor dropped the hit-and-run charge.  It seems that Beatrice wasn’t in the car when Carol Lombard was driven off the road.  Her husband’s trial is coming up soon.  His attorney asked the judge for a change of venue, so the case is being tried in a different county.”

“I know I haven’t been over to the library lately, but did you get promoted to Beatrice’s old job?”

Michelle shook her head sadly.  “Nope.  The board hired a gal with a degree in Library Science, so that leaves me out.”