King Rosie Hacks the Hacker!

King Rosie

H@cks the Hacker!

Written & Illustrated

by Johnnie W. Lewis

Franklin Wright Enterprises

Marietta, GA USA

CHAPTER 1 — Don’t Mess with a Snake!

"No, Babs, you can NOT ride your bike to the mine and back. Not even with Rosie along. That would be over 10 miles!!" There’s a difference of opinion in my house, between my parents and me. I’m 11. I’m strong. I play sports. And I’m pretty smart. Or at least I THINK I’m pretty smart. I ride my bike all over town, my friend the Sheriff lives two doors up the street from me, I know almost everybody in town, so who’s gonna hurt me? But a better question is WHY would anyone want to hurt me?

There’s a fine line between expressing your own opinion, Mama says, and back talking. I seem to be crossing that line about every other day or so these days. I just want to go out to the mine to see it. I haven’t been out there in…, well…, since I was a kid, probably three or four years ago. And now they’re closing it down, Daddy says. The Poteets, who originally owned the mine, have all died off or, since the great jewelry store robbery last month, gone to jail. That leaves the only heir to the mine and Poteet fortune in jail, at least for a while. And if Kevin Poteet II doesn’t get out of there by the time the mine has been closed for five years, ownership of it will go back to the state. Then, he’ll get NOTHING when he gets out.

Well, who can I ride with out there, then? I tried to calm my voice down some, but since I’ve never been eleven-and-a-half before, I don’t know when I’m treading water or skating on thin ice, when it comes to the back talking bit.

I just want to see it before it’s closed, I said quietly, as I looked back and forth between Mom and Dad. Both were busy packing lunches and snacks for work and, after solving the jewelry store robbery last month, I have almost NOTHING to do but go swimming everyday. And do volunteer work in the library. And visit the Sheriff’s Department until they run me off. And Mama doesn’t like for me to go to the bank with her very often, ‘cause she said that I cause too much chaos when I’m there. Actually, it’s not ME that causes the chaos. It’s all the tellers and customers who stop and stare at me, with my pet King Snake, Rosie, draped around my neck, instead of doing what they’re supposed to be doing! I mean, you’d think they’d never seen a snake before!

And I’m NEVER allowed to go to Dad’s office again. With Rosie. His Paralegal, Mrs. Stripling, found out there was a snake in my basket one day when I came to see him and she screamed so loudly that a whole catastrophe happened! Rosie jumped out of the basket, landing on top of my sandal, I squealed until I realized it was Rosie, Mrs. Perkins threw the file folder full of loose papers she was holding up in the air and it rained paper, and Dad came out of his office with a putter in one hand. And it wasn’t even a left-handed club! I was banned from my father’s office. And once the Judge heard of the scene in Dad’s office, he banned me from court, IF I was carrying Rosie, of course. At least that was AFTER I had had to testify against Kevin Poteet II and Trixie Belden. Mama had been the one to ban Rosie from court that day! Sheeze! Lighten up, grown-ups! hehe!

Anyway, with very little else to do, I could be getting into trouble. SO. I wanna go to the mine. I’d heard Dad tell Mom that some things had started disappearing from there about the time that he started going out there to help speed along the closing operations. Little, but expensive things. Like a nail gun. And a log splitter. And a shovel. None of the big stuff was disappearing yet, like a coal hopper or trucks, but the fact that things were being stolen set my Sherlock Holmes’s cap a’ twitching! I wanted to get out there and see if I could figure out who was doing the stealing! THAT’S why Dad didn’t want me going, I bet. Not the distance. But the fact that there is danger out there.

I’d been there once on a field trip, in the third grade, when we were learning about the differences between anthracite and bituminous coal. I remember the mine foreman at that time, Mr. Colfax, telling us that they find bituminous coal in layers closer to the surface of the open-pit mine and the anthracite is found much, much deeper. The anthracite was the kind that Granny used to burn in her fireplace, ‘cause it was much harder and burned hotter for longer, she had always said. It costed more, ‘cause it was harder to come by, but it did its job better.

The mine is actually not a mine anymore, but a massive open pit in the ground. Dad said it covered about what would have been a few hundred acres, if the ground was still there. It is a dangerous place to be, with all of the slurry ponds, the ground crumbling under your feet, and the potential for fires every time someone takes a fire of any sort underground. But, I don’t want to be in any of that. I just want to see around the office buildings. THAT’S where the stuff was that is being stolen!

Well, I’ve got to go out there tomorrow afternoon, to talk to Mr. Rogers about some papers that will have to be signed. You can go with me then, IF you promise to stay out of TROUBLE! Dad really didn’t have to add the last part, but something tells me that I might better pay attention to what he says. Anytime someone is stealing stuff, there’s danger!

And you’ve got the Library today, right? Mom asked.

Yes, Ma’am, I said as I gulped my milk. Mrs. Connors said she’s gonna show me how to use the computer to do things, like checking on books and stuff. And there’s some speaker coming to the Library at 2:00 this afternoon, so I may stick around for that. I don’t know. Listening to the people who come to speak at the library is usually pretty lame, as far as entertainment goes. This lady’s gonna tell kids how we can be writers, too, like her. I mean, who cares about listening to such a topic?!? Maybe she’ll be scared of Rosie and that will get a laugh!

Mrs. Connors was just opening the front door as I locked my bike in the rack out front. Holding on to Rosie’s basket carefully, I hit the restroom first, then went to the desk in the Kiddy Lit Section. Now, Rosie, you stay INSIDE this basket, I said to the basket, knowing Rosie wouldn’t pay attention. There are times that I really don’t believe that she can hear and understand me, then she goes off and finds stolen jewels or something. Makes me wonder.

Mrs. Connors, do you want me to shelve these books before you show me the computer stuff? I asked her. I was hoping she’d say no, because there wasn’t anyone else in the library yet, except librarians, and now would be the perfect time to do computer work.

No, Babs, let me get my coffee and we’ll start now, since there’s no one else in here yet, she said as she headed to the little lunchroom. So, with nothing better to do yet, I picked up the stack of new newspapers she had laid on the front counter and headed for the Periodicals section to put them in their right places on the shelves.

I don’t usually read the newspapers, but the words computer hacking caught my eyes on the front of the Wall Street Journal. The article said that China was guilty of hacking into several U.S. computer networks and grabbing peoples’ Social Security Numbers. Whatever that means. But, hacking was something that I’d heard my Keyboarding teacher talk about in class one day last year. Hacking was bad, whatever hacking was.

When Mrs. Connors was ready, we made sure that Miss Annette was at the front and Mrs. Tripp was at the information desk, then went to the office and sat down at the computer. There are computer monitors all over the library, but this one was meant for just Mrs. Connors, or other librarians, to use. The office had glass walls so anyone sitting at the computer could see all the way around to see people all over the library. And she put me in the computer seat with her sitting beside me!

Now, Babs, I know that you know a bit about computers, ‘cause I’ve watched you check out books to people. But, there are places that we can check on things, for information gathering purposes, that you may not know about, she said as she pulled up her chair beside me. I put Rosie’s basket on the floor between my feet, so I could feel if she moved or got out. It was really the only way that I could keep an eye on her!

Go to the URL line at the top of the screen and type in ‘Revolutionary War Battlefields’ so we can see if there are any in our state, she instructed. I knew we had some Civil War battlefields in the area, but I didn’t know if there were any from the Revolutionary War. "Now. You see that entering just that phrase brought up millions of possibilities. It’s not possible for us to look over ALL of them, so we’ll just look at a few on the first couple of screens."

I scrolled down the screen and couldn’t tell much because they all looked just about the same. Now, let’s narrow the search down some, she said. I added the state to the search. Good. Now you can see how it has narrowed down what we need to look for drastically, she said, pointing at the screen. And there aren’t any in our state.

There were two more searches like that, so she could show me how to be more specific in my searches. Then she showed me how to look into the header information on an email, to find out what IP address someone emailed from, and who it really was that had emailed it. That would be helpful if someone sent something that we thought was SPAM. Three more searches like that and Rosie started wiggling in the basket. I knew that meant it was time to do something new. And there were more people standing at the Kiddie Lit desk than Mr. Deering could handle. Maybe I need to go help, Mr. Deering now. He gets kinda slow sometimes, I told Mrs. Connors. But, thanks for the lessons, I told her. Can we do this again? I asked.

The next time you’re in here, yes, we can. When do you come next? she asked.

I’m supposed to be here tomorrow, just to help work, but my Dad said I could go with him out to the mine. Would it be okay if I come next Monday? She agreed and I got up, taking Rosie’s basket with me.

I knew Rosie would not last too much longer in the basket so I needed to change her routine, to keep her interested. I took her out of the basket and draped her around my neck. When I got to the Kiddy Lit desk, I asked Mr. Deering, How about if I do a few? You can’t just come up on him and start doing your job, with him there. He’s a mite touchy about anyone touching his desk.

Well, Missy, I was wondering where you were, he said as he pointed to people in line and told the next person in line to come over to stand in front of me.

Mrs. Connors was showing me some stuff on the computer, I told him.

Ooooh, COOL! the girl in front of me gurgled. That must be Rosie that I saw in the paper! When that news reporter took pictures of us after the gold was found. That must have been when she saw Rosie.

Yes, I said, as I scanned her library card and started scanning the stack of books she had. You can touch her, if you like, I said, leaning forward a little so Rosie’s head would be closer to the girl.

She’s not slimy! the girl said in awe as she put a finger on Rosie’s head. She’s just kinda…, slick…, or slippery-like!

Yes, that’s true. The only time she’s slimy is when she comes out of the creek behind my house and she has mud on her, I grinned at the girl.

The next lady in line refused to let me help her, ‘cause she was afraid of Rosie. That was the third time this week that someone seemed to recoil when they saw Rosie. Maybe Mrs. Connors is right, I thought. Maybe I do need to leave Rosie at home, unless she’s part of a show here or something.

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I had just turned the corner on my bike, headed home for lunch, when I noticed that there was a Sheriff’s car parked in front of my house. I pedaled a little faster, putting me at the driveway, just as the deputy was coming down off the front porch. Something I can help you with, Deputy? I asked, as I pulled up and parked my bike on the driveway and took Rosie’s basket out of the the bike basket. The kick-stand on that bike is amazing. I had banged it up and knocked it around a dozen times, but it still works. Getting loose, but it works. Makes the bike stand like a spraddle-legged chicken, but it still stands up.

Yes, ma’am, there is, he said, taking off his hat. Your dad said that you wanted to go out to the mine, just to look around. I’m headed that way and I told him that you could ride with me, if you want to. He had stopped at the foot of the steps, but had his thumb tucked into his belt, grinning at me, while I stood beside my bike. I’d never noticed before, but he was looking at me differently than he did when I would see him at the Sheriff’s office. Like he was more interested in me than he had been before.

In spite of the heat of the day, I shivered, ever so slightly, when the chill went up my backbone. My shiver