by Bush, J. M.
“Yes, love. We can do that,” he said, taking her hands in his own.
August placed BrainSave into the port he had made on the back of the wooden automaton. There was a humming noise as the little drive inside began reading the information contained on the small black disk. He set the heavy little robot back down on the workbench, and they both waited for what seemed like forever.
The humming stopped, and there were three clicks followed by a whirring noise. The wooden robot then began walking up and down the length of the workbench, not saying a word.
“Tara, is that you? Are you in there, sweets?” Samantha said, her voice full of hope.
No answer. The automaton continued walking up and down the workbench. Tears sprang to Samantha’s eyes.
“Stop, Woodrow,” August said.
The automaton halted his march across the workbench.
“Damn,” August whispered. “He reacted to the name I programmed for him. That means the BrainSave is… empty.”
Chapter 11
THIS MIGHT HURT A LITTLE
Samantha looked down at the wooden automaton and scowled, saying, “Woodrow, could you please get out of the way, sweets? I’m trying to vacuum the dang carpets.”
“YES,” the little wooden robot replied in its strange monotone while walking in its awkward way to the opposite side of the room, directly in line to where Samantha was going to vacuum next.
“Mrs. Lurie, I have to say that is the strangest little thing I’ve ever seen,” Lee Parr said. “It looks like a Montek.Automaton made out of wood and strings. Does it have a BrainSave? Is there a relative in there?”
Sam smiled over at the lawyer and shook her head. “No, Mr. Parr, there isn’t a BrainSave in Woodrow. It was empty, so we took it out. It’s sitting over on that mantel gathering dust. My husband and I made little Woodrow. Don’t mind him, though, he just walks and talks. He doesn’t mean anything. He just keeps me company.”
“It certainly is quite strange,” Lee said, waving to the robot, adding, “Hello, Woodrow.” The lawyer waited expectantly, staring at the odd little wooden figure, but received nothing in reply.
“Woodrow, tell the man hello, sweets,” Samantha said, hands on her hips.
“HELLO SWEETS,” Woodrow said, exactly as he was told to do.
Samantha threw her head back and laughed. He had never copied her like that before. The lawyer was right; Woodrow was an odd little thing.
“So, you’ve got some final paperwork for me to sign about Tara’s property?” She asked Lee. “It took y’all long enough. She’s been dead over a year now. What’s been the problem?”
Lee Parr no longer worked for the state as he had when John had died years ago. He now worked exclusively for Montek, which, as everyone knew, was pretty much the same as working for the government. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, as they used to say.
“Oh, you know, Mrs. Lurie, the usual red tape,” he replied. “Montek has to make sure you’re not getting one Credit more than you should. But don’t worry, everything has been checked and triple checked. We found no problems and your settlement is ready. I must say that after this one and the settlement you received from Montek.Claims last year, you and your husband are now quite wealthy. Why haven’t you opened another diner? You could have a chain of them across the Southeast!”
Samantha looked sadly into the kitchen at the newly refurbished antique oven and stove August had bought and then fixed up for her.
“I’ll cook at home, but without Tara it don’t seem right to have another diner,” she replied quietly.
The lawyer nodded along, not listening to Samantha or caring what she had to say, and replied, “That’s nice, Mrs. Lurie. If you can just sign here, I’ll be on my way again.”
Samantha did as she was asked, and then walked Mr. Parr to the door with her hands on her hips. Her lower back was a little sore today. She noticed him glance back at the BrainSave on the mantle as he left, and then to Woodrow, who was awkwardly waddling along behind them.
Finally, Mr. Parr glanced down at her belly and said, “Oh, and congratulations on your first child. How far along are you?”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied, smiling and rubbing at her baby bump with one hand. “I am just now four months pregnant. So far, it ain’t as easy as they would have you believe.”
Mr. Parr grinned wide at her, and said, “Mrs. Lurie, I was led to believe that pregnancy was actually quite difficult.”
She grinned right back and told him, “Exactly what I meant, Mr. Parr. It’s even harder than you heard. Now you have yourself a pleasant day. And don’t come back, now, you hear? I like you and all, but we only ever see each other when someone dies. You keep far away from my door if you please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a tip of his hat. “But if you recall, I always bring you Credit or property. Doesn’t that make it any better, Mrs. Lurie?”
“No, sir, it don’t. Now get,” she said with a smile and a wave before closing the door on Mr. Parr.
Woodrow pushed on the door with his little arms and said, “DON’T.”
Samantha nudged him with her foot and walked back to continue the housework with one hand on her sore back. Woodrow followed right along, standing directly in the path of the vacuum again.
-
August walked the production line, observing in detail everything that was going on. He was pretty meticulous when it came to running things at the factory. Everything got done precisely and on time. However, he always had an open ear for the workers to suggest improvements in any area.
Today he was out watching how this team handled the newest model BrainSaves. One of the members of the line had told him they could improve production if they had two people on QA. There were so many BrainSaves coming down the line that one person wasn’t enough. As August looked on, he had to agree that the employee had been right. They were missing a few bugged ones coming down the line, which were ending up getting packed for distribution.
He called a halt to production for just a couple of minutes so he could pull someone in to fill in temporarily until a full-time person could be trained and added to the team. With only thirty minutes until shift change, he was only putting a temporary bandage on the problem. But he wanted to make sure they all knew he was on their side, and would always try to listen to them and make changes when needed.
Phillip sat at the end of the line directly opposite from Greg, who had been doing this job since they began making BrainSaves. Greg was giving the temp some tips on how to keep things moving along.
August signaled for the production line to start back up, and the sirens went off for six seconds beforehand to warn everyone that parts would begin moving again. Phillip was not used to the belt that brought multiple components down the line, as the section where he regularly worked required no moving belt to transport parts. Phillip had placed his hands underneath the belt mechanism as he sat down and had not moved them when the assembly line began to flow again. The scream that echoed throughout the factory shook all of the employees to their cores. It was a cry full of pain and terror, and August looked on in horror as Phillip held his now handless arms in front of his face and continued to howl in agony.
“HALT PRODUCTION! NOW!” August screamed above the roar of the machinery and then jumped into action.
He gathered Phillip in his arms and raced to the factory AutoCar, which was typically used to run errands back and forth into town. He placed the mutilated worker in the back seat, and August then ripped his own shirt off to use as a tourniquet;, staunching the flow of blood.
“BRING ME THE FIRST AID KIT RIGHT NOW, DAMNIT!” August screamed through the now much quieter area.
A minute or so later, someone handed the kit to August. He tore it open and found the AutoCauterizer made by Montek.Pharm. It would be painful as hell without the numbing gel provided, but he was in too much of a hurry to think of that. August gently removed his makeshift tourniquet from the ends of Phillip�
�s arms and clicked the AutoCauterizer to ON mode.
“I’m sorry, Phil, but this might hurt a little,” August said.
The tip glowed with red laser heat, and he pressed it to each gory nub in turn. Phillip’s howls of pain sounded much more intense now because of August’s proximity to their source.
Having sealed the wounds with laser heat, August relaxed a little. He realized this meant that Phillip’s hands could not be reattached now, but August had seen what remained of those hands – chewed up by the belt as they were – and knew that they were never going to be reattached anyway. At least now Phillip wouldn’t bleed to death on the way to the clinic.
“I’m sorry, Phillip. I… it’s my fault for puttin’ you there without the proper trainin’, man,” August said. “I’ll get you to the clinic now. I’m sure they can provide some top-of-the-line robotic prosthetics for you. Montek will cover the costs, don’t you worry. It’s a work-related injury. And I’ll stay with you for as long as you want. Is there someone I can call for you?”
Phillip said nothing, as he was unconscious at this point, having passed out from the pain of the AutoCauterizer. The AutoCar raced on to the clinic while August held this man in the back seat, horrified at what he had caused.
Later, August sat on the couch gulping at a glass of real beer. He had stopped at Big Guy’s Pub on the way home from the clinic and picked up a growler full of the good stuff. Phillip’s wife and teenage son had met them at the clinic and didn’t want August to stay. They probably blamed him. He couldn’t fault them for that, as he definitely blamed himself. He took another big gulp from his glass. The real beer was potent, and he wasn’t used to it. After two glasses, August was already feeling the effects.
“It was all my fuckin’ fault, Sam,” August said with anger in his voice and tears in his eyes. “I put him there. I ruined his gGoddamn life with one stupid fuckin’ decision. It should have been my hands mangled up by the belt. It should have been me.”
Samantha reached over and held her husband’s empty hand and said, “Don’t talk like that, sweets. It wasn’t your fault. How could you have known it would happen? Accidents happen all the time in this world. We have no control over them.”
“But he wasn’t trained for it, Sam!” August wailed. “He had no business bein’ there! I was just tryin’ to look like I was still one of them! I was tryin’ to make them happy, and look what I did.”
August pounded the rest of the beer in his glass and poured another. Samantha realized that he didn’t need her to talk him down off the ledge right now. What he needed was for her to listen and comfort him, and so she did.
Scooting closer, she put August’s head on her chest, and whispered to him, “I’m so sorry this happened, August. It must have been awful.”
He put the freshly poured beer down on the table beside the couch, wrapped his arms around Samantha, and began to cry heavily. Sobs wracked throughout his body. The guilt of what his actions had caused filled August to the brim and spilled out of his eyes.
The next day he woke up when his alarm went off. August showered, shaved, and went down to make breakfast for them. The Home.Phone rang as he was frying some bacon on the stove, and had biscuits in the oven.
Samantha walked in with a smile on her face and a hand on her lower back. That lower back pain was beginning to get to her. It was always worse in the mornings. Seeing August on the phone, she kept quiet but kissed him on the cheek and took a piece of bacon from the plate of finished ones.
She watched him speaking, and saw the expression on his face change.
“Uh-huh. Yes, I understand. I can come in and give you an account of what happened,” August said into the Home.Phone. “They did? I see. Ok, no problem. Thank you, sir.”
August disconnected the call and flipped the bacon in the pan.
“Well, sweets, who was it?” Samantha asked.
“Work,” August replied evenly. “I’ve been fired.”
Chapter 12
AIN’T RIGHT
August was in a deep depression. Samantha could see it in his actions and body language. But, no matter what she tried, she just couldn’t seem to cheer him up. It’s not like they were in dire financial straits because he was laid off. With all the Credit they had from the two insurance settlements over the past two years, they were doing just fine. But Credit was the last thing August was worrying about, and Samantha knew it.
Filled with guilt over the accident at the factory from a few weeks ago, August still blamed himself for Phillip losing both of his hands, e. Even though August had met with him, had seen his new robotic prostheses, and had been told point-blank that everything was fine.
The new hands were working great, and the Credit he was awarded from Worker’s’ Compensation was enough to retire on. Montek may pay their employees peanuts, but at the first sign of trouble they throw buckets of Credit at the problem out of fear of bad press.
None of that mattered, though. August blamed himself for the accident, and there was nothing anyone could say to make him feel better.
“Sweets, I really think that we should get out of the house today,” Samantha said, snuggling up next to her husband. “I’d love to go for a walk. I can make some sandwiches, and we can eat out in Solomon Park. What do you say, August? Will you be my date?”
August did smile when she called him sweets, every time – no matter what. It was the one thing in this world that still made him happy. The love of his beautiful wife, Samantha, was the glue that held his broken pieces together.
“Nothin’ would make me happier, Sam,” he replied. “I’ll go take a shower, and be back in a few minutes.”
August hadn’t showered in three days, and standing under the hot spray of filtered water made his back sting, but in a good way. He stood under the steaming and cleansing rain with his hands pressed against the wall. In his mind’s eye, all August could see was the red stains on the factory floor and the look of horror in Phillip’s eyes. Just like every time he closed his eyes and saw this, August began to shiver uncontrollably, and tears sprang to his eyes.
August quietly uttered his new catchphrase, “It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.”
He knew that there was nothing he could do to change what happened, and he knew that blaming himself wouldn’t solve anything. August didn’t want to be depressed. It’s just that every time he tried to be happy, he felt it was unfair to Phillip, whose life was forever ruined, or at least altered, because of one stupid decision August had made.
August felt he could never forgive himself.
“Sweets, you almost ready?” Samantha called out. “I’ve got real chicken salad sandwiches and a thermos full of sweet tea all packed up and ready to go!”
When she saw him step around the corner, she felt maybe things would get better eventually. He had shaved for the first time since the accident, and he smelled wonderful. It was the cologne she loved so much, mixed with the freshly washed scent of his dark skin and beautiful skin. He had a smile on his face like the old days, and he had the lanterns floating beside him as he reached out and to embrace his wife.
“Thank you for being patient with me,” he cooed into her hair. “I know it’s been hard seein’ me mope around, havin’ a pity party. I promise you that it’s over. I won’t let this one accident ruin our lives. We have a family to plan for, after all.”
August placed his hands on her five-month pregnant belly and kissed her gently on the lips. Samantha dropped the basket she was holding that contained their picnic lunch. She pulled him closer and turned his gentle kisses into a deep and passionate one. They began to remove each other’s clothes as hastily as possible. It had been weeks since they made love last, and their bodies ached for each other in the best possible way.
Samantha could tell he was holding back, probably because of her impregnated state. She was not having any of it.
“Don’t treat me like some fragile thing,” she said, squeezing his b
iceps as hard as she could. “I won’t break. Give me all you got, sweets.”
August didn’t need telling twice. He let loose and picked her up with both arms, placing her on the kitchen table. Samantha threw her legs open and pushed his head between them. Her moans of ecstasy filled the house as she climaxed between the lanterns.
Later, they lay on the couch holding each other and eating the chicken salad sandwiches and swigging on sweet tea to quench their thirsts.
“Well, well, well. Sweets, that was the most mind-blowing sex I’ve ever had in my entire life. I can barely move. You outdid yourself today, August.”
She reached over and stroked his face while grinning, madly in love with the gorgeous man.
“I can’t take the credit, Sam. You’re amazin’. How on Earth did you do that one thing? You weren’t even lookin’ and…wow. I can’t even explain it.”
“Sweets, I attribute all my sexual prowess to my ancient Chinese heritage,” Samantha said proudly. “They had an exceptional talent with sex long ago, and it must have been passed genetically to me. Or maybe… just maybe… I was aided by the ghosts of my ancestors.”
“Gross,” August whined with disgust. “Please don’t tell me I just made love to your great -great -great -great -grandma’s ghost. That would be super -nasty.”
“Oh it wasn’t my grandma’s ghost, sweets,” Samantha said reassuringly. “It was my great -great -great -great -grandpa you were fucking.”
August pursed his lips, and said, “Well, that’s ok, then.”
They both laughed deeply and thoroughly, holding hands all the while. Everything seemed to be drifting back into place for them. Going back to normal, or as normal as it ever got in today’s odd modern world.
Then the doorbell rang.
-
“I don’t understand, sir,” August said, utterly confused. “Why would Montek be suing us?”
