Day 4

He was waiting for me when I got home, standing in the doorway with the biggest grin I’d ever seen him wear. I couldn’t help it; I had to laugh. The two six packs of beer (MGD for me, PBR for him) clinked together in the bag I cradled, giving away my surprise.

”Here,” I said, putting the bag down and pulling the Blue Ribbon out, “To celebrate.”

The grin quickly soured.

”Steven, you shouldn’t talk about celebrating. It’s bad luck to do it beforehand.” He didn’t, however, take his eyes off the beer.

”Suit yourself,” I said, “Not like you really have to thank me, that stuff is cheaper than water.” Owen looked around, as if suddenly unaware of what he was doing. He recovered, and the grin showed up again.

”Steven. She’s ready.”

”Yeah? Let’s go fire her up.” I’d already popped the cap off of one of my beers and taken a pull. Steven didn’t notice - he was bounding down the stairs like a little kid.

”Come on! Look, she’s all set. All we have to do is hit this button.”

“Mmm...” I grabbed another beer and started down the stairs. “Congratulations, Sally. Tonight is the night.”

It wasn’t. Three hours later, my beer was gone and Sally was still humming her low, scratchy tune. Owen was sitting next to me, head in his hands.

”So...how do we know it’s working?”

He sighed, as if I hadn’t already asked the same question multiple times.

“We know, Steven, because she’s awake. She’s not idling, and she’s not errored. If that had happened, she would have printed an error message.”

“What if the error message was really the title? How would you know?” I tried not to laugh, but it was hard. I was far from sober, and felt like funning with the guy a little. He always assumed I was serious, even if my questions were, in actuality, ridiculous. That’s one of the things I enjoyed about Owen, and I took advantage of it often.

”Really, Steven! Would the greatest title in the world really be “Error Message”? Besides, I’ve already thought of that. If there’s an error, the error message will print the three safe words I’ve chosen beforehand. So I’ll always know what the output means.”

“What are the safe words?”

”What? Oh....Sandwich and jelly and something else. I don’t remember. I’ll know if I see it.”

”Peanut butter?”

“No, Steven, that’s not it! How is that even one word?!” Frustrated, Owen stood up and puffed his chest out, taking a deep breath. “She’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. I’m going to bed.”

With that, he pounded back up the stairs.

”Night, O.”