Dave Casler
PO Box 98
Ridgway, Colorado 81432
Young Adult Novels by Dave Casler...
I've been told by publisher after publisher that there's no market for Young Adult novels. I think they're wrong! So I'm putting my novels on-line for you. Forget the publisher! Read to your heart's content--it's free! And, I'd like to hear from you, too! Contact Page.
You're reading About Dan. Be sure to check out About Phillip here.
Dan is a normal kid who loves his soccer. Except everything goes wrong. Everything.
About Series Home
About the About Series
Index to All Chapters
Here are all the chapters, disguised as asterisks. Hover your mouse over an asterisk to see the title of the chapter. Click on the asterisk to go straight to that chapter.
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(About Dan Home) (Last) (Next)
Phillip Maceda, the Skinny Kid
The small talk continued for five minutes. Neither touched the computer. They were discussing England’s chances at the World Cup when the doorbell rang.
Peter went to get the door, but Dan’s mother was there first.
"Hello," she said, glaring warily at the stranger.
Peter came up behind her. "Hello," he said. "You’re Phillip."
Phillip looked puzzled. "You’re not Dan," he replied. Snow was gathering on his glasses and neatly-trimmed black hair.
Maria was puzzled, too. "Are we expecting you," she asked just as Dan rounded the corner on his crutches.
"Oh, sorry Mum. He's going to help me with my computer."
"Dan! In this weather!" exclaimed Maria. She turned curtly to Phillip. "Please, come in quickly. It's cold out there!" She shut the door behind him with more force than necessary.
"Phillip, this is Peter," said Dan, ignoring his mother. She harrumphed into the kitchen.
Phillip looked at Peter for four seconds before replying. "Uh," he finally stammered, "you’re a big deal jock aren’t you?" He was short, unusually skinny and his glasses made him resemble an owl that hadn’t eaten recently. His complexion was ruddy, however; not the pasty sort that one would expect on a computer nerd.
Peter smiled. "One and the same," he said, and extended his hand. Phillip took it limply.
Dan interrupted Phillip’s embarrassment. "In here," he said. Peter took up the rear. Phillip looked back at Peter as though he were trapped.
Once inside Dan’s bedroom, Phillip headed straight for the computer and stood in front of it. He examined the modem’s manual for a full minute, flipping through its pages as though he knew exactly what to look for. He put it down thoughtfully and stared into space. Then he looked through the computer's innards, probed a few wires, and stared into space again. Only then did he sit down. He poked some more.
He was in his element. Peter and Dan made themselves comfortable on the bed.
After examining the modem again, Phillip finally said something.
"Dan, how much did you pay for this?"
Dan had to think for a moment. "Five bucks. Got it at the used-computer store next to McGuckins. Came in a box and everything. Why?"
"Uh, it's really old. It's one of the earliest 56K modems. The port has to be set via DIP switches."
Dan and Peter looked at each other. Peter spoke. "What's a DIP switch?"
Phillip sighed at the prospect of explaining something incredibly simple to a moron. He pulled the modem out and pointed at it. "These," he said. "Have you messed with them?"
"No," said Dan. Tech support never said anything about switches.
"We need to see if there's a port conflict. I need to turn the computer on."
"Have at it, my good man," said Peter. Phillip looked at him, not sure if he was being mocked. He turned back to the computer, squirmed in his seat, glanced back at Peter, then attached the monitor and keyboard cables. He busied himself typing commands. After a few minutes, with Dan and Peter boring holes in his back, he spoke.
"Yeah, just like I thought. You have a serial mouse and it's set for COM2. COM2 and COM4 are really the same thing, they just use different IRQs. Your ports are fine. So I'm going to install the modem for COM3, since you have nothing on COM1. Is that ok?"
"Sure, go ahead."
While Dan and Peter enjoyed some silent mirth behind his back, Phillip jiggled the mysterious DIP switches and reinserted the modem. He went through a series of screens Dan had never seen before. This guy is a space alien, thought Dan.
"What's your ISP?"
"My what?" asked Dan.
They could tell from Phillip’s expression that they were just confirming his opinion that athletes were quite simply stupid. "Your ISP is your Internet Service Provider," he lectured. "It's what you log into when you want to use the Internet. You can't access the Internet without …"
"I don't have an ISP. Just my account at school. Can I use that?" asked Dan sharply.
"Yes, you can. I keep the numbers in my pocket. I'll put them into the Hyperterminal program that comes with Windows." He typed some more. "Ok, let's give it a try."
He clicked on "connect" and they all waited. Soon they heard a dial tone and then the sound of a phone dialing.
Dan pumped his fist and whooped loudly. "Brilliant! Brilliant! Brilliant!" he shouted.
Peter did a victory dance with his arms in the air, shouting "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
Phillip was alarmed. He finally caught their attention.
"Dan, you need to put in your user ID and your password. Do you have them?" he asked.
Dan rolled his eyes. I am not a blithering idiot! "Yes, Phillip, of course I have them." He was soon looking at the same screen he used at school.
"This is very cool, Phillip! Ok, now is there any way to save this so I can do it again?" he asked, quite pleased.
"Of course," replied Phillip. "I'll make you a desktop icon."
Dan rolled his eyes again. No wonder I never see him talking to anyone.