A Hackable Life

Digit 3

The night was creepy and dark as the postman rode home. His eyes were slightly blurry as he concentrated on the light of his bike, shining on the path in front of him. He had already gotten used to the sudden flashes of lightning, and growling of the thunder. He peddled, steady and consistent, tentatively listening to the belts and gears of the bike as they spun and clicked, but was also aware of the occasional passing car.

In the distance, a house burned, the tongues of fire flickered upwards at the sky, below a column of smoke that rose continuously. The postman found his curiosity take over him, making him lead his bike towards the chaos. As he got closer, he heard sobbing and screaming just over the noise of the fire. Sudden stress and worry shocked him and the postman rode faster and faster, until he stopped in front of the burning building. A small child stood at the driveway of the home, his mouth open and crying, saturated in his own tears and water from a towel he hugged around him.

The house was in a terrible state. It was hardly even visible under all the mixture of yellow, orange and black. The postman already felt the heat of the flames against his face, in contrast to the cold night that stung the rest of his body. He turned his head back towards the little boy. He reached into a bag that hung from the handles, and pulled out a small chocolate. Not bothered to push down the lever that held it upright, he put down his bike and slowly walked up to the child. He crouched down so that his face was level with the boy's, who momentarily stopped crying. Sniffling, he looked down at the chocolate in the postman's open palm, and let go of the towel with one small wet hand to reach for the treat. The postman smiled kindly at the boy, picking him up and holding him with one arm.

"Your mummy and daddy were lovely people. They were so kind to me, even though I just brought them mail. They loved you very much."

The postman bent back down to pick up the wet towel off the ground. He glanced at the fraying tag. A single word, blurred but just legible: IVAN. He smiled to himself. The postman looked back at the burning house, urging to somehow put out the fire, but he knew his efforts would be futile. As much as I'd absolutely love to adopt you, my little Ivan, the postman thought, I can't afford it. You wouldn't have a good upbringing under my care. Abandoning his only mode of transport, he sought to the nearest neighbour a whole block away. It was extremely dark, and the street lamps were his only source of light. No wonder why hardly anyone noticed the house had set on fire. The postman knocked at the door of a large, modern looking house and put Ivan down next to him. Ivan was struggling to open the wrapper of the small chocolate, so the postman helped him. The door swung open and a middle-aged man wearing a belt weighed down with tools and various gadgets stood before them.

"What on earth are you doing at such a late hour?" the man asked in an annoyed tone.

"My sincere apologies, however would you mind me borrowing a phone? It's an emergency."

The man at the door inspected them with thorough eyes, gave a hesitant look, and said "Follow me."

The man's house was simple at first, but gradually they saw that it was filled with paraphernalia of all sorts; cooking utensils, building tools, sound and recording gadgets, computer parts, huge wires, electronic gaming consoles; perhaps one or two computers in each room. The excessive laptop and television screens illuminated the different rooms just enough so that a ceiling light was unnecessary. Ivan stared wide-eyed at his new surroundings, occasionally pausing at doorways to stare at children's electronic toys that stood out among the sea of wires. Finally they reached a phone, and the postman called the police and the fire brigade. Afterwards, he called for a taxi.

Meanwhile, the gadget man waited, eyes fixed on the little boy. Ivan wandered from one overflowing table to another, mesmerized even though just a year old. The Postman put down the phone and smiled.

"Thank you very much for your understanding. We shall be off now. Ivan?"

Ivan looked up at him, extending his arms towards the Postman in a silent message to be picked up. With Ivan in the Postman's arms, the gadget man led them back to the front door. The postman turned back to the road, and with a nod of appreciation towards the man, jogged back to the house on fire.