I Told You, Eli Oxley

Chapter Thirteen

 "So what does the puzzle have to do with computer hacking?" I asked from underneath the stuffy pillowcase.

"Everything, man. Well, at least the basic principles of hacking. Did you know it was an old Einstein riddle? Anyway, first, you have to have good organizational skills. You have to be able to take lots of data and organize it in a way that's going to make much more sense to you. Then you have to have good data interpretation and analytical skills to help you figure out what's important, what's not so important, and how to use the important stuff to your advantage. But really, you have to have a whole lot of patience. Most people get frustrated if they can't solve something automatically, which is the main reason the puzzle is good at filtering out the wannabes."

"But it really wasn't that hard once you sat down and actually thought about it," I half-questioned. "Which, I guess is why patience is a factor," I answered myself.

"Right. Tell me, when you see a really long post on Facebook and the 'continue reading' link, what do you do? Do you click that link?"

"Not really. I usually don't bother reading it."

"Exactly. Our attention spans and patience grow shorter all the time. No one wants to read big chunks of information, not even if they think it might contain something worth while. We don't have time for that shit. We want to know what's going on in 140 characters or less so we can move on to the next thing."

"So does that mean I don't have enough patience to be a computer hacker, since I don't read those posts?"

"No way, man. No one has patience for shit like that. I've read a few of those posts. They're pretty stupid. Facebook is stupid. But it's a hacker's playground for sure. Privacy and security settings are mirages."

After about thirty minutes, we pulled into what I figured was a driveway.

"Wait here for a minute," the guy said. "Oh, I'm JT, by the way."

"Eli."

JT snorted a small laugh and left me alone in the car with the pillowcase still over my head. I lifted the bottom of it above my mouth so I could breath more easily. I thought about our conversation, and grew for the first time in a while a sense of pride in myself because I felt that I had all of the attributes of a good computer hacker – not only had what JT talked about fit me nearly perfectly, but I had received a little affirmation from someone besides myself and my dad. But I didn't know what the laugh was all about.

Within a couple of minutes, JT came back and opened my door and led me inside before removing the pillowcase. I was standing on a landing at the center of a split-level staircase. Up the stairs and ahead of me, I noticed a pretty normal looking kitchen, and a couch backed up against the stairs' railing blocked the view of what I thought might be a living room on the right.

"C'mon," JT said and led me down the other set of stairs.

A spray-painted black door blocked the entryway at the foot of the stairs and JT opened it up to a large, open room that was lit only by the glow of computer screens that completely lined the walls. Small partitions separated every third computer to create individual workspaces.

"This is amazing," I managed to breath out. I was in awe of what I was seeing, and immediately imagined myself sitting at one of the stations using the double monitors and a third computer for who knows what.

"It better be," a new voice said, "it cost a fortune."

"That's Brett," JT said. "He's our treasurer."

"CFO you shithead," Brett corrected.

"Right. So when are we going public?"

"As soon as we can find a way to legitimize our business," said another voice.

"And that would be David. He's our resident programmer who ensures that we maintain the stereotypical image of computer hackers."

I couldn't help but laugh at this – it was so true. David wore thick glasses and had a bad case of acne. He was skinny and the oil on his skin reflected the glow of the monitors at almost blinding levels. In contrast to David, Brett was built much like JT – short and stocky, with his bulging arms over-extending the fabric of his t-shirt.

"David can create any type of program you can dream of. He developed all of our individual operating systems based on what each of us do," JT said.

"So what's your specialty, JT, I mean, besides housewife?" Brett asked.

"Hardy har har," JT said as he punched Brett in his massive arm. JT turned to me, "Remember what I was telling you about the needed skills to be a hacker? Well, I'm the organizer. I take all the codes and rearrange them into manageable data so Brett or Gabe – our sort of president, but you won't meet him tonight – can analyze and interpret. Sounds a little lame, but trust me, the team wouldn't be able to function without me. But it doesn't matter what I do, it's what you can do that's important right now. If you can bring something to the table that we don't already have, then you're in. If not, well, it was nice meeting you. Speaking of meeting you, guys – this is Eli," he said with a grin, and the guys laughed out loud.

"Sorry," David said, "but it's just that there's this guy on YouTube who thinks he's a computer hacker guru. He calls himself Eli the Computer Guy. We've pwned him several times now. He even mentioned us, though not directly, in one of his video blogs. Then, just for some more fun, we hacked him during one of his live blogs. Let's just hope you're a little more advanced than him."

"That's what we're about to find out," JT said.