Kay always came early to class -- a half an hour early usually. She'd breeze in with her deep purple polyester pants and too-tight tee shirt, smile and say, “I know, I'm early again, aren't I?”

I was teaching the Internet computer class tonight and had hoped that everyone would either cancel or not show up at all. The network wasn't working and I was frantically running from machine to machine trying to reset all the controls so that the five students who were supposed to show up at 6:30 would have a running system to work with. I was not pleased to see Kay at 6:00.

She sat quietly as always and waited while I cursed at the systems and at my boss and at life in general. I glanced over at her from time to time and took in her presence: 5'6 or so, dirty blond hair, about 180 lbs., buck teeth displayed shyly from an otherwise pleasing smile and friendly face. She's too overweight to wear such a tight tee shirt, I thought to myself, unkindly.

“I learned so much Tuesday night,” she exclaimed to me. “Y'all are so smart with these here computers.” And then, quieter, “I used to git straight A's and B's in school but I dropped out when I was only 17 in my senior year. Got married and had me some babies.”

“Uhm, hm. Hold on, Lillian (her real name) we'll get started in just a sec -- I gotta get these systems going before everybody shows up,” I replied, glancing at my watch -- 6:28.

I set the systems, let them do their thing and ran out into the hall for a quick cigarette and a deep breath. I'd been so stressed out today. I didn't want to teach this class and especially not to Lillian Friar. She talked too much, smelled like she hadn't brushed her teeth in a few months and just plain aggravated me. I wanted to get in my Camry, crank up some jazz and head home to a hot tub and a cool drink. I looked at my watch again: 6:40. Okay, people aren't coming, I thought to myself. It's just Lillian and me. I walked back into the classroom and resignedly started the class.

“We'll be talking about search engines today, Lillian,” I said. “You'll find that this is the best way to access any kind of information from War and Peace to 'Parenting Skills' to up-to-the-minute news across the globe.”

“We're also going to look at Gophers -- libraries of information on the Internet, and Chat facilities and Newsgroups,” I added.

“I gotta tell ya, did you know this is my Mom's Day gift -- I mean these classes -- from my boys?” she said, grinning. “My paw died in February -- 8 weeks after my Maw died, and I haven't gone out the house till now since then,” she said.

I sat in the seat that faced the class and sighed inwardly. “Oh Gawd, she wants to talk,” I thought to myself. Every now and then, I'll have a student with a desire to spill her guts to me. It must be that we are looked upon as some sort of authority figure – I'd remembered doing the same thing at college and high school to favorite teachers. “You wanna tell me about it, Lil?” I asked.

“If you aren't in any kinda rush or nothing…” she replied shyly.

“No, no… no rush -- we'll get this done later,” I said.

“My Paw used to call me KayKay,” she began, her eyes already glistening with tears. “They amputated his legs bout a year go -- diabetes he had. I took care 'a him. Maw was too old and too ornery. She got sick a him sayin he wouldn eat and him yellin all the time. None 'a my brothers and sisters wanted to take care a him, we cain't do nuthin with that old man, they'd say, so I brought him home.”

I moved my chair closer to her and thought to myself, “I'm a jerk.”

“I made him eat sumpthin. Told him it tain't good not ta eat cuz he wuz gonna make hisself worse-sick. He always liked me. Usedta call me KayKay,” she went on. “I was his favorite, Nan. He wrote up all the pawr attorney and estate stuff in my name. I hadta, uhm… what's that word?… manage the estate.

“My sisters and brothers couldn a stand for that. Yu wouldn believe it if i told yu, I wen to the funeral parlor and poor Paw was all laid out and they started shovin an pushin each other cuzn they wanted Paw's old Buick. I mean they all started fist-fightin'. Almost knocked the danged casket over,” she said.

“I was so mad that I took all the 8,000 dollars that Paw had in his insurance and bought him a big ol headstone so that they couldn have none a his money. Nasty people,” she huffed.

“I went over to his house bout a week later and my brother and his boyfriend (she emphasized -- waving her right hand up and down -- had painted the walls neon green and put down some dirty old flooring and I couldn a stayed there if I'da been paid to. Ain't talked to him since. And those people -- my own kin came and stripped everythin out the house. They took Paw's old Barcalounger and pictures and everythin. I was so sad.

“I stayed in my house since February. Didn go nowhere cept Foodland -- bout a rock throw from where I live,” she said. “I hadta feed the boys. One of em's up at Fort Bragg in South Carolinie, an we'd gone up to see him. He said, Maw, it ain't so bad. That drill sargent's all up in my face but he don't scare me. I usedta be more scared of yer ass whoopins, Maw, he said.

“When that child was young, he broke my great grammaws china antique doll. I heard that crash from upstairs in the house an came runnin down. That boy was in the corner and I said to him, 'Whyr you standin in the corner?' and he said, Maw if you go to the kitchen an see what I done, you gone send me here anyway.

“And I went in the kitchen and saw that doll lyin all to pieces on the floor and I came back out to the living room and said, 'Boy, you know I got to whoop you fer that', and he came and hugged me and said, 'I know Mamma, but I love you anyway'.”

She smiled here at the memory. “My boys just know how ta wrap their Maw round their little finger,” she said.

I thought of my own boys and my love for them and the way they would try to get out of trouble.

“Anyhow,” she added. “Must be borin you. You must do so much here. I really admire ya, Nan. I always wanted to learn bout them computers. My husband got me this one down at the flea market at Jimmy Joe's store and he tol me that he wanted me to stop bein so upset bout my Paw and my family and learn somethin new.”

“He must love you very much,” I replied.

“Oh he does. He's a grave digger,” she laughed. “When people ask me what he does for a livin, I say, he plants em. And they always ask, 'What does he plant?' and I say somethin that ain't never bout to grow no more.” She giggles.

We go on with the class. I teach her about search engines and point out gently that computer is not spelled c-o-m-p-e-r-t-e-r, but I'm reluctant to criticize any more. She hunches earnestly over the machine astonished at each thing I say and drinks it all in with the wonder of a child.

After class, the office is quiet. I give her my card and say, “KayKay, you call me any old time, you hear? I'm gonna be waitin to hear your voice again, and you just better come back and learn some more.”

KayKay smiles gratefully, “Oh, you know me, Nan -- I'll be back -- a half hour early fer sure,” she exclaims and walks quickly out of the building.

I watched her for a moment, turned off the systems, shut off the lights, locked the door, and walked out of the building myself. I got in the Camry and threw my briefcase onto the passenger seat, turned on some loud jazz, lit a cigarette and went home where I would lie in the tub and drink a cool lemonade and think about KayKay.