Maybelle said she wouldn't be coming with me to the library. I asked why, and she said she could get all the short stories she wanted off the Internet. Saved walking all the way to the library, and putting up with my long chat on the way there, and on the way back. Maybelle is very direct like that, always has been. "But, Maybelle, we've been walking to the library every' Monday for the last fifty years!" She said," Why don't you get Internet'? We can send each other emails." So I had to get Internet. I called the local high school. They said they'd send me a good student to tell me all about computers and such. Evil thing, this Internet. Makes you lose old friends, forces you to learn new complex ideas, even if you're too old. But Maybelle said you have to be modern; otherwise, you're dead. The kid came the next day. Tall skinny black kid, by tile name of Arsenius, said his work would cost me. I said, "All right. As long as I get Internet." "You need a computer, then you need to get hooked up," he said. "Let's buy a computer and get hooked up, then." "How much you want to spend?" "Whatever it takes." "How many rams you want?" I wasn't going to show him my ignorance, so I said, "Whatever it takes." "Let's go to the mall. You got a car?" "In the garage." When I opened the garage door, he gasped. Daddy's car is still there, a'57 Chevy. I never drive it. Walk everywhere. I said," Let's walk. It's only a mile or so." He said," Let's drive, or you will faint on me in this heat." "Young man, I don't faint, never have. We're walking." "I get paid by the hour," he said. "Walking will cost you a lot more. Also, you feel like carrying a computer a mile or so?" What kind of person is Maybelle?
She always says what she means in an honest way. She no longer likes reading in her old age. She doesn't want to be friends with the writer any mort. She doesn't want to keep up with the time.