by Bush, J. M.
August took her hand and led her to the kitchen. Beside the oven was a large container. Samantha looked curiously at the box. She already had every kitchen appliance she needed.
Why would he go and buy her more?
“Well, open it, Sam,” he said, now urging her on. “Don’t just stand there.”
Samantha walked over and tore into the box. Inside she found something revolting. Why would he do this to her? He knew how she felt about these things. It must be some sick joke. And she did not like it.
“Sweets, you know I love you… but this ain’t funny. I never have and never will want one of these infernal Nutricators,” she said sternly. “I cook and eat real food. You know this. Why on Earth would you buy me one?”
August patted the air with his hands to calm her down, and explained, “I know, I know, babe. But listen to me for a second. Workin’ at the factory, and now being in management, we hear some things tricklin’ down from on high at Montek. We were quietly informed that, just like with your diner, all homes would soon be required to have a Nutricator inside. Montek has found a way to force everyone in the world to buy their terrible machines. But… because of this they came out with a new model that is very simple and affordable, to make it easy for everyone to get one. I bought one of those, and fixed it.”
“Fixed it? Like how fixed it, sweets?” she asked, now intrigued.
“I made it so that any time you tried to use the Nutricator, it would shut down and not work for 24 hours. That way, we have one, but we’ll never use it. If someone comes over and wants somethin’ fake to eat, the Nutricator will seem to work and then break down. I’ll tell them that I can fix it and then the next day it’s back. As long as no one comes every day, or very often, and wants Nutricator food, we’ll be in line with the law,” he said with a proud smirk.
“Well, I can’t say it’s my dream present,” she admitted, “but it does seem to solve an awful problem. I can’t believe everyone is going to have to buy one of these dang garbage cookers. Montek has a lot of nerve. Anyways, thank you, sweets. I love you.”
“Oh that’s not all, babe,” he said, excited to show her the next part. “I also upgraded our lanterns! First, I programmed them to be voice- activated. You can call for them from anywhere in the house, and they’ll come to you. Second, they can use whatever kind of light you want, now. I added different filtered colors and intensities. And last, I removed the old chips that linked them to the Tesla generator outside of town to put in ones of my design, instead. These new ones still draw power from the Tesla core, but they pull a heck of a lot more juice. If need be, we could power the whole house off of what these two lanterns can take in.”
Eyes wide with surprise, she said, “Now that is something I honestly do like. Thank you, sweets. You did too much for me. I only made a janky, old, wooden robot statue.”
August picked up the wooden automaton again and smiled at it, and told his wife, “Quit talkin’ crazy, Sam. This is the coolest gift I’ve ever gotten. I love it. Now I’m gonna go start cookin’ dinner. I’m thinkin’ Nutricator meat loaf would be mighty fine.”
He turned on the Nutricator, and it began to power up, going through it’s initial cycles, getting ready the processed proteins and fibers. Before it could cook anything, though, it beeped with an error message and shut down.
“Works like a charm, babe,” August said with a grin. “Now, would you care to teach me how to make a REAL meat loaf?”
“Sweets,” she said, already putting on her apron, “nothing would please me more.”
Later that night, they sat in their living room in between the lanterns, which were glowing with a soft luminescence – just enough for Sam to read a book, and for August to sketch some plans while looking at his new wooden figurine.
Suddenly, August shot up to a standing position and looked around for the source of some unseen problem.
“Sweets, is everything ok?” Samantha asked him, her heart beating fast.
“Do you smell that?” he asked quietly. “Somethin’ is burning.”
Samantha became even more frightened at the mention of burning, and hollered, “Oh no! The meat loaf!”
They both dashed into the kitchen, ready to do whatever it took to rescue the meat loaf, and, barring that, to save the kitchen and house if they were in jeopardy, too.
But as it turned out, everything was fine in the kitchen. The meat loaf had another fifteen minutes in the oven while the green beans and corn on the stove were simmering away ready to serve.
“Well, it’s not comin’ from in here,” August said, sniffing the air. “I swear, though. I can smell fire. Somethin’ is burning.”
“I do, too, sweets,” Samantha agreed. “I just can’t tell where it’s coming from.”
They did a slow walk through the house together, looking for any bad signs: faulty wiring, smoke, fire, or anything out of the ordinary and suspicious. They found nothing unusual at all.
“Babe, I guess it’s coming from outside somewhere,” he said, shrugging. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Maybe,” Samantha agreed. “But I’m gonna look and see if it’s any of the neighbors’ houses.”
Samantha went outside, and August went to pull the meat loaf out of the oven, as the timer had gone off.
When Samantha came back inside, the table was already set and they were ready to sit down for dinner. They took their time and savored the fabulous Southern cooking. They ate slowly to enjoy every bite of the real food, made by hand.
After dinner, the happy couple went to their bedroom to get ready for sleep. They put on their nightclothes, brushed their teeth, and did a few other bedtime routines before lying down in bed to read a little more before going to sleep.
“August, I was genuinely terrified when I thought the kitchen was on fire,” Samantha whispered. “Partly because I was looking forward to eating a meat loaf that we had made together, but mostly because I was scared we’d lose the house. This old house and the diner are my two favorite places on Earth. I can’t stand the thought of losing, either.”
“I know, love,” he said, putting his hand on her bare thigh under the covers. “I don’t want to think about it, either.”
August moved his hand up and took hold of her’s. It was warm and soft, just like the rest of his wife. He pulled their intertwined hands out of the covers and kissed her knuckles one at a time. Samantha looked into his eyes and saw a need there. The same need she felt deep within her.
They moved together gently at first,; caressing each other, hands sliding under nightclothes, searching for sensitive and hot places. As they ran their hands all over each other, Samantha leaned in and licked August’s lips very lightly. He opened his mouth and welcomed her kiss.
August removed her bra tank and cupped her breasts in his hands. He kissed each in turn, then reached down and yanked at her panties, desperate to get them off.
She replied in turn, tearing his boxers to remove them. Her want was as urgent as his. Their desire for each other was on a cosmic level. They each felt deep in their souls that no two people had ever lived on Earth and been so in love… and had become one so successfully.
They moved together in a pleasurable rhythm. August looked down into her face and found joy and passion within her deep, dark eyes. Samantha reached up and stroked at his chest.
“You feel so good, August,” she moaned. “Don’t ever stop.”
August always felt a little shy when she talked during sex, so he usually just kept quiet. On the other hand, he absolutely loved it when she told him what to do. It turned him on in ways he never thought possible.
August reached down and kissed her passionately, nibbling on her lower lip as they pulled apart. They became lost in each other,; time and space frozen. Their bedroom was the only light in a dark galaxy. They made incredible love between the lanterns that hovered on either side of their bed.
“I want a baby, August,” she said suddenly, grabbing his face in her hands. “G
ive me a baby, please.”
The way she said please sounded like begging, and it made August feel wanted in a way he had never felt before.
“Oh God,” he said at hearing the urgency in her voice.
She gripped his arms tightly as August went wild, finishing almost instantly. After a few breaths of silence, Sam moaned in satisfaction. “Oh, I love you, sweets. That was… magnificent,” she said through labored breaths.
“I love you, too,” he said, kissing her the tip of her nose. “I mean I’d have to be the biggest idiot in the universe not to love someone as perfect as you are.”
“You’re not so bad yourself, sweets. And, God willing, we just created a life.” she sighed in return. “Our child will be so perfect and beautiful. Boy or girl, sweets?”
“Shoot, it don’t matter, Sam,” he said honestly. “If it’s a boy or a girl, I’m teaching them how to fix stuff. You’ll teach them how to make stuff. We’ll both teach them how to be kind.”
“You’re right. If it’s a boy, we’ll name him John. If it’s a girl, we’ll call her Cheryl. That is if you’re ok with those names,” Samantha said with a hopeful gleam in her eyes.
August held her head against his chest, his heartbeat pounding in her ear as he laughed,. “Yeah, I’m good with that. But here we are talkin’ like this one time is gonna do it. We don’t know, so let’s not get our hopes up.”
They held each other for a long time before drifting off to sleep. As August fell into his dreams, he could swear that he still smelled something burning. An hour later, they were both woken by the sound of their Home.Phone ringing.
Chapter 9
WHAT DO YOU CARE
Samantha wished they owned an AutoCar at that moment. Before then she had never had a desire to own one, especially after what had happened to John. They were just mindless machines that got a person to their destination without a driver, most of the time. You could take control of the wheel, but most people just got in and told the car where to go. Where was the enjoyment in that?
Samantha and August preferred to walk or ride their old-fashioned bicycles that he had fixed up for them. After finding them for sale in a scrap metal shop, he replaced the tires and brakes, buffed out the rust, painted them all nice, and put on some new seats. They were probably the only two real bicycles in all of Alabama, if not the United States of Earth.
But right now, Samantha would give anything to have an AutoCar that could get her to the diner faster.
“Oh sweets, I hope it’s not bad,” she said, her voice shaky with fear. “Dear Lord up above, please don’t let it be bad.”
August pedaled hard to keep up with Samantha. Her pace was frantic, and he was struggling to keep pace.
“Me, too, babe,” he said through heavy breaths, “I’m sure… everythin’ will be alright. No matter what… we’ll get through it… together.”
They reached out, despite the high speed of travel on their bikes, and touched hands for just a moment.
Samantha saw it first. The entire ride from the Westgate Park area down to West Main Street, they could see the smoke rising and could smell it, too. Samantha had held out hope that it was an office building across the street or a parking garage nearby. But it wasn’t.
August set his kickstand right next to Sam’s bike, which she had just let fall to the ground, as she covered her face with her hands and wept. He put his arms around her as he watched the Montek.Fire.Response Team work at putting out the flames that had all but decimated Cheryl’s Diner to ashes.
Only two walls were still standing and the roof was long gone. The tables and chairs were almost non-existent. Samantha peeked out from behind her hands and saw that the antique ovens, stove and everything else from the kitchen were nothing but charred remnants of her life as a cook.
She fell to her knees and went even deeper into a state of loss. Her stomach felt sick, and she began to dry -heave in the grass. August knelt beside his wife and stroked her hair in the shadows formed by the dying flames, as the firefighters finally seemed to stop the fiery tempest.
Everything she had ever worked for... all gone in one stupid evening. Samantha couldn’t even begin to comprehend it all. Most of the recipes were in there. Of course, she knew them by heart, but Cheryl had handwritten those cards. They weren’t just recipes; they were keepsakes… they were her heirlooms. She had planned on passing them down to her great -great -great-grandchildren.
The Montek.Fire.Response Chief walked over to the grieving couple and asked, “Are y’all the Lurie Family? The ones that own this diner?”
“Yessir, you called our home just a while back to let us know what was goin’ on. She is half -owner of the restaurant, and her partner is Ms. Tara White,” August explained, as his wife was in no fit state to carry on this conversation. “Have you called her, or will we need to do that, sir?”
The chief looked down at the highly emotional Samantha with a puzzled look on his face and said, “Ma’am, you do have Montek.Loss Insurance, right? It says here that you do.”
“Yes, of course, she does,” August said. “I’m sorry, Chief, but could you just talk to me right now, sir? She’s not doin’ so well, as you can see.”
The chief scratched his head, still looking baffled, and added, “Well, if y’all have insurance, the place will be rebuilt in a few days. Better than before, even. Superior new walls and roof, much more fire -resistant. Probably with AutoHydrants in the ceiling, too.”
August looked up at the heavy-set man with an annoyed look plastered across his face, and said, “Yessir, and what is your point?”
“My point,” the Chief shouted, “is why is she so dang upset? It’s all paid for!”
Samantha stood up, wiped the tears from her eyes – smearing soot and make-up alike – stared the Chief down with a look that could scare the Devil back to Hell, and said, “Why am I upset? The woman who built this diner is dead. She was like a parent to me, sir. She gave this diner to me. It was the last real diner in New Dothan. It was the only place in town with real meat loaf, green beans, chocolate pie, and a mess of other wonderful food. Nothing you can buy down at Montek.Mart can come close to cooking that real food. Why am I so upset?”
“Yeah,” he said, throwing his arms up in exasperation, “what do you care, Mrs. Lurie? It don’t matter.”
Samantha looked as if she was ready to fight the Chief, and August was just about to pull her away, when another firefighter walked up and said, “Sir, it looks like only two things survived the fire. The Nutricator seems intact – dirty but intact. And there is a Montek.Automaton in the back that seems mostly ok.”
“Thanks, Joshua,” the Chief said, his tone dismissing the young man. But the firefighter stood there awkwardly as if he wanted to say more, so the Chief asked, “Is there anything else?”
Joshua looked at the Luries and said, “Well, there is something else…”
The chief looked impatiently at the young firefighter and motioned for him to get on with it.
“Well, sir, there is a charred skeleton next to the automaton, sir,” Joshua muttered.
Samantha’s heart began racing with fear. Only one person could have been in the diner after closing. And there was one of those automatons in there? Didn’t Tara say she had bought one? Samantha had never seen it, probably because she had expressed such displeasure with Tara for wasting Credit on it. But why would it be at the diner? Why would she be inside with it? Did she mention something about it being delivered today?
“Sir,” she said, her tone no longer angry, “I’m sorry if we have a disagreement about how I feel at the loss of the most important place to ever have been a part of my life, but you never answered my husband’s question earlier. Did you call my partner, Tara?”
The chief looked from the young man over to Samantha, and nodded, saying, “We did, but there was no answer on the line provided listed in your registered emergency numbers.”
Samantha rummaged through August’s pockets and found his cell
, quickly opened it, and looked through his contacts for Tara’s number. She closed her eyes and said a little prayer before hitting the call button.
It rang three times before being picked up.
“Oh thank the heavens, she answered,” Samantha said under her breath.
“I’m sorry but the Montek.Communication customer you are trying to call cannot be reached. The SmartChip attached to this account is no longer functional.”
Samantha closed the cell slowly. Tears fell from her eyes once more. August had overheard the automated message and knew what it most likely meant.
“Chief,” August said, “if there is nothin’ more we can do I am goin’ to take my wife home. Is that alright?”
The Chief shrugged his shoulders as if he couldn’t care any less whether Samantha and August went home or died in a fire.
“Up to y’all,” he answered coldly. “Insurance man will be in touch tomorrow, I reckon.”
They rode back home in silence, except for the occasional sniffle and sob from Samantha. August picked her up and carried her inside once they arrived home. He put her on the sofa and went directly to the kitchen to make Samantha a cup of her favorite tea.
She held the scalding cup in both hands and sipped gingerly at the too hot contents. August always made the tea too hot. He never remembered to add just a little cold water at the end, the way she liked it.
“It’s too hot, sweets,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.
“Damn,” he said, slapping his head. “I forgot to add the cold water again. I’m sorry, love. I…”
He never finished the sentence as Samantha dropped the hot tea on the carpet and threw her arms around his neck. She squeezed as if her life depended on it. It hurt, but August let her go for it. She needed to let it all out, and he would let her crush the life from his body if it made her feel any better.
“Maybe it’s not her, love,” he whispered in Sam’s ear. “Maybe it was a burglar.”
