Silvertroll

Cafe Lunica

Why do I feel like a child running away from home? As dawn light illuminates the leafy suburban neighbourhood outside, I open a draw like a burglar. I need to grab a few things, in particular, my $25,000 limit credit card that I had stashed in the socks drawer. Alicia and I planned to use it to go on a holiday.

Alicia is asleep in bed. I have no idea how long I will be doing this. It feels like I am going away on a trip. With no set plans in my head, I don't even know where I was gonna stay. I collect what essentials I can hold, I sneak back down into the laundry, grab a gym bag and cram in as many basic items as I can, underwear, toiletry bits, a torch, socks...

...one more thing.

I tiptoe my way to Julian's room and enter, something I usually avoided doing. Everything is untidy, but not in a bad way. The room is... lived in. Clothes and electronic items are scattered everywhere, phone chargers, power leads, food wrappers, opened energy drink can...

I stand there, out of place, looking for a laptop on the desk. I find nothing but three large monitors, and a computer rig fit for a hacker. I searched the room for his laptop. I figure the Silvertroll knew my son somehow, and if there's any link, the laptop will be the best place to look for clues. I've been advised confrontation is a good way to accept that the loss is real. Confronting the relics, evidence of the existence of what once was, seems like a daunting and horrendous exercise. Painful as it may be, I would go through it. On the night this disaster happened, Alicia went through photos, on her phone. She even posted them on Neechat. I struggle to understand how she or anyone could do that after such a loss.

Weird. Totally weird, unnatural behaviour. But who am I to argue?

I find the laptop on his bed, underneath a pile of unfolded jeans and t-shirts. Nothing's been touched for weeks. As I pack the thing and the charger into my bag, I bump into the desk, tipping over the Blue Talon can, spilling dark liquid down my pants.

Shit.

I pick the can up and toss it into the bin. Knowing Alicia will be pissed at me for tampering with Julian's room, I take out the plastic liner filled with rubbish. I head back down and sneak out through the kitchen, passing the car keys on the breakfast table. I leave them for Alicia, but I take my phone that's charging on the bench.

Once outside, I toss the bag in the garbage bin and march out into the first light.

I walk down to the local shops, hoping to grab a pie from the little cafe store opposite the train station. There is only one free chair inside so I rush to take it, wanting to avoid any of the available alfresco seats out on the footpath. I am in no mood to bump into neighbours or other locals, a silly attitude to have since Cafe Lunica is the social hub of the area.

"Day off, today?" asks Benny from behind the bar. How the hell does she manage to run this business from such tiny premises. One of the most consistent cafes in the area. Great coffee, a nice simplistic decor, lacking in the pretentiousness most other shops aspire to.

"Yeah," I say, figuring I would be facing the same question over and over until I changed my story. The barista approaches and I order a flat white. I take out Julian's laptop and open it up.

Password?

Dammit. I didn't expect to hit a roadblock so soon. I rack my brain but nothing.

I try 'monkey123'.

Nope.

I click on the hint, confident I would know the answer.

Why do Egyptian pyramids have doorbells?

I think about it. Egyptian pyramids with doorbells? By the time my flat white arrives, I still have no idea how to answer it. I asked the barista, "Why do Egyptian pyramids have doorbells?"

She shrugs. "I don't know, why?"

"I'm asking you," I say, hoping to clarify the misunderstanding.

She thinks about it, "No idea. Try searchin' it." She smiles and steps away. I rummage for my phone, but by the time I find it, unlock the key code, find the browser and begin typing...

"So you can toot-'n'-come-in, ha," laughs the barista from behind the counter holding up her phone.

"Thanks," I tell her and begin to type it in.

Toot and come in.

Nope. Then I get smart in my thinking.

Tutankhamun.

Nope.

I give up. There is no way I could break a twenty-year old's code. I sip the coffee as I stare at the login page.

My phone dings.

It's Alicia. Like a little kid who'd run away from home to live in the tree house, I resist but decide it best to talk to her, explain myself. If anything she would know more than I about passwords and whatnot.

I answer, "Hey."

"I'm home. Where are you?"

"I'm... " I lost the war without even a tussle. "I'm not at a good place right now." It is not what I planned nor wanted to say. Yet, the words come as if I've practised for years to say them.

"Okay," she says. I detect the familiar sympathy in her tone. "Are you going to be alright?" she says, backing away from her bullishness, "Can you come home?"

It is not something I want to answer at this point. "Do you recall Julian mentioning his passwords?"

"You've taken his laptop? Are you sure you're ready for this?"

I'm not. "Yes, I am."

"Come home and we do this together."

"Not right now. I need time to clear my head. If I come home, we don't talk, I end up drinking and life becomes a daze. At least now I'm slowly coming out of this nightmare. I know you're dealing with this your own way. I don't begrudge you for it. Let me deal with this my way." Normally, if I spoke shit like that, I'd be done. I'd get a barrage of counter arguments from her.

This time, she sniffs and says, "Okay, but you have to give this a time limit. Just tell me how long you need and stick to it. We can't let it drag on. I need you, more than you think. In my opinion, this is not a time to be alone. We should deal with this together."

"Yes, I agree. Just give me some time."

"How much time?"

Let's see, I ask myself. How long would it take a computer illiterate caveman like me to hunt and catch a savvy technogeek-hacker like Silvertroll? I weigh that against the time it takes before Alicia's patience implodes.

"Three days," I say. I know this is not enough. I would need years of learning to be able to catch that prick or bitch or whatever lurked at the other end of that keyboard. Deep down I admit I would most likely lose this goose chase, but at least I would have given it a try. I am one stubborn goblin, never accepting defeat as an option.

Ultimately, win or lose, at the very least, it would distract me from the endless torment of agonising over the accident that couldn't have possibly have been an accident. There would be no regrets. Alicia was right to ask for a time limit. This could take a decade, so I had three days to track down this Silvertroll, then I would take the advice and deal with bereavement the old-fashioned way.

I can sense the deliberation in her breathing. "Okay. Three days." She doesn't like it but, "Where are you staying."

"What about the password. Surely Julian spoke of his."

"He kept this secret from us. Remember when we, or should I say, when I insisted he writes down all his passwords in a little notebook."

"Yes," I said, hope rising.

"Well, they all turned out to be fake ones. He played us at age seven. No matter how we tried to explain the dangers of the internet, he..."

Was she crying? "Look," I said, "I will call you later."

"Will you be coming home?"

"I'll see how I go."

I hang up.