You know, there are a lot of ghost stories out there that just aren’t that realistic. Maybe somewhere there’s a ghost that wants to spend all their time clanking chains around or whatever. But I bet most ghosts have better things to do.
They’re busy people, after all, and they’re pretty focused on what they need to do.
Kind of like me. Only, more ghostly.
My full name is Hans Dieter Schenk. My dad’s name is Hans Peter Schenk. Before him came Hans Gerhard Schenk, and before that came Hans Franz Schenk. (He wanted to be called Franz, because, come on, would you introduce yourself as Hans Franz? It would not be good, not even in olden times.) Before him came more guys back in Germany called Hans Something too. They all looked pretty much the same in old photos, with pale skin and pale hair and square chins and eyes that were probably blue, like my dad’s. All except for Hans Franz, who had a bigger nose than the rest.
They all fit their names exactly.
Mom says I got my chin from my dad. But honestly, I look a lot more like her and my little brother, Asad. I have short black locs, and medium-brown skin, and brown eyes, and no one ever thinks my dad is my dad unless they know us. (Sometimes they even think my dad is my best friend Eli’s dad, not mine, just because they’re both white. It’s…awkward.)
So, people call me HD.
My mom’s name is Kikora Davis Schenk. She has darker skin than me and much longer locs, and she is a no-nonsense person. She says that knowing where you came from is important, but so is knowing who you are, and what kind of person you want to become.
I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately.
Right now, most adults know me as “Kikora’s son—the older one” (because everybody knows my mom) or “Hans Peter’s son—the older one,” or “Gregor’s oldest nephew,” or “that boy who takes care of Mr. Ziedrich’s goats for him.” Most kids know me as “that Black kid with the white dad and the weird name—the older one,” or even “Asad’s older brother.”
But after they’ve seen the computer I’m going to build from scratch, old-school-style, they’ll know me as “HD, the maker.”
I like the sound of that.
HD’S COMPUTER BUILD:
TO BUY:
COMPONENTS:
CPU (Central Processing Unit): computes stuff. A fan keeps it from overheating.
Motherboard: connects everything together and sends power to the other components.
Memory, aka RAM (random-access memory): helps the computer remember what it’s doing while it’s working on something.
Storage (a hard disk drive or solid-state drive): stores all the software and files that you save on the computer.
Power supply: gets the right amount of electricity to the computer.
Case: keeps the dust out of your components and has a power button and ports for peripherals.
PERIPHERALS:
Monitor: the screen.
Keyboard: what you type on.
Mouse: what you click with.
HOW MUCH IT WILL COST:
At least $300, even if I shop carefully and buy used peripherals.
I’ve been saving all year, but I only have $50.23. I want to enter my computer into the county fair, and that’s less than a month away.
I was supposed to go to tech camp in Seattle with Eli. We’d been looking forward to it all year, learning how to build cool stuff, even if we couldn’t take it home afterward. But I guess they let some science get totally out of hand, and their lab burned down, so they had to cancel camp. By then, the other tech camps in our area were full.
I was really disappointed. But Mr. Z. said he’d teach me how to build my own computer, and Dad and Uncle Gregor came up with a plan so I could earn enough for everything I’d need. All I have to do is go through all the stuff in Uncle Gregor’s basement.
See, when Grandma Schenk died a few years ago, Uncle Gregor went to Arizona to sort stuff out and sell her house. But it turned out she had a LOT of stuff, and he didn’t have much time, so he brought it all back in a truck and put it in his basement. He’s been busy, and looking at her stuff makes him pretty sad.
So, since Uncle Gregor’s away this summer and I’m good at figuring out what somebody can use and what’s just trash, he and Dad decided this would be a good summer job for me.
There are more than fifty boxes of stuff in Uncle Gregor’s basement. But Uncle Gregor left $250 in an envelope with my name on it, for when I’m done.
That’s some serious motivation.