Christmas With Hover Hill

by Risner, Fay

  The absurdity of her actions made her boiling mad again. This was her home. Until tonight, she hadn't bothered to shut her bedroom door at night. Not only had she shut the door just now, but she did it without making a sound as if she feared she'd wake that robot man up. She really was going to give Scott a piece of her mind as soon as she could get him to answer the phone.

  Once she was in bed, she found it hard to sleep. She kept watching the darkness and listening for movement in the living room. She knew it was ridiculous, but she felt as if a strange man was standing guard out there.

  Her mind tumbled with thoughts as she kept going over this evening. The robot said he'd been programmed to call her Beth. Her brother, Scott, called her Elizabeth just like everyone else. The only one that called her Beth was .… . No way! That was impossible. Steven Mitchell was the only one she had ever let called her Beth. He couldn't have anything to do with this mess. He'd been out of her life for several years.

  The next morning, Elizabeth rolled over and opened her eyes. Startled speechless, she tried to digest the fact a man was standing over her. Her first thought was where had she left her cell phone. She had to call the police. Next, she decided she had to roll out of bed on the opposite side. She'd find something to use as a club. Where had she left her umbrella? She'd beat the intruder senseless or threaten him until he left her apartment.

  “Good morning, Beth. I have your breakfast.” Hover Hill leaned forward to hand her a tray.

  Elizabeth rubbed her eyes and groaned. Now she remembered last night and what must be Scott's idea of a very bad joke. She scooted up in bed. “What’s on the tray?”

  “Hot chocolate and buttered toast,” he chanted.

  “What makes you think I like that for breakfast?” Elizabeth asked irritably as she held her hands up for the tray.

  “I have been programmed for all your food likes and dislikes,” Hover said, sounding smug.

  Elizabeth's patience had its limits this early in the morning.“Well, take it back. I only want coffee this morning.” She thrust the tray back into his fingers.

  “I expected that.”

  “You expected what?” She snapped.

  “I have been programmed to know that is what you would say until you get used to me helping you. I was programmed that you often get up on the wrong side of the bed.”

  “I do not!” Elizabeth screeched. “Did Scott say that? He has his nerve telling you that. Oh, just give that tray to me and get out of my bedroom.” Elizabeth grabbed the tray from his hands, slopping hot chocolate down her white nightgown.

  “I will wipe that off you before the chocolate soaks through onto your skin,” Hover said, heading for the bathroom.

  “Don't you dare try that. You stay away from me,” Elizabeth yelled, glaring at him. She pulled the hot stain out away from her skin. “I'm going to get dressed soon anyway.”

  “May I lay your clothes out for you while you eat?”

  Elizabeth huffed, “Are you programmed to know what I want to wear today?”

  Hover shook his head. “No, I do not have the ability to read your mind. You will have to tell me that.”

  How did Scott manage to leave that out of robot skills to program into him? “I intend to pick out what I’ll wear to church by myself. Leave my room now,” she ordered, pointing at the door.

  “Very well. Just leave the nightgown in the sink. I will wash the stain out for you,” Hover said as he walked to the door. He stepped sideways around the angel wing begonia before he turned around. “By the way, you should be more careful where you place your flower pots. I have a hard time getting around this one.”

  “You're smarter than you look. That was my intention. Get out of here.” Elizabeth grabbed the piece of toast and threw it at him, but Hover Hill moved faster than she did. The toast bounced off the back of the door as it closed.

  Taking a sip, Elizabeth admitted to herself the hot chocolate was good, but that wasn’t enough reason for her to put up with that robot’s bossy attitude. What was Scott thinking when he programmed that beast to be so unlikable and pushy? It was as if her brother intended to upset her. If so, that brother of hers had succeeded big time. He knew she couldn't stand being told what to do.

  After she dressed, she picked up her brush on the dressing table. Stroking her shoulder length, light brown hair, she glanced at herself in the full length mirror attached to the closet door to see if the blue pantsuit she'd chosen looked all right. Satisfied that the pantsuit's color complimented her eyes, she took a deep breath and steeled herself to face the creature lurking in her living room.

  The robot was standing motionless in the corner. He slowly raised his head as she entered the room. “Are you ready to leave for church now?”

  “Yes.”

  “May I accompany you to church?”

  “Heavens no!” She blurted out, astonished at the thought. She couldn't explain him to the congregation. What would they think of her?

  “It might surprise you a small amount to know that some people would be proud to have me accompany them,” Hover said, sounding disappointed.

  “It would surprise me a lot,” Elizabeth bit back at him then as an excuse added, “You can't walk up and down steps.”

  “You live in a first floor apartment,” Hover shot back.

  “Well, the church has steps.” She amended, “Lots of steps.”

  She felt little comfort in the fact that she'd won the argument if she could call it that. Hover Hill closed his eyes and lowered his head.

  After church, Elizabeth decided to lunch at Pizza Ranch rather than the diner closer to her house. An all you can eat pizza and broasted chicken meal should tide her over for the rest of the day. That would keep that mechanical, culinary expert about her tastes in food from cooking. She lingered over the meal and plotted her strategy on how to get rid of her unwanted house guest.

  By the time she left the restaurant, it was with a determined outlook about her situation. She slid into the car and took the cell phone from her purse. Fairly confident that Hover Hill couldn’t hear her dial from that distance, she tried Scott’s number again. Still no answer. Where could he be when she needed him? Maybe he hid out on purpose, figuring she'd be unhappy about having that man robot in her apartment.

  She'd just have to take care of this problem by herself. She'd put that robot back into his box, duct tape it shut and mail him back to Scott.

  When Elizabeth stepped through the front door, she looked across the room. Hover wasn’t in his corner. Maybe he left. As she came out of her coat, she decided she should pray for a small miracle. After all, it was Christmas. As she studied the room, she hung her coat in the closet.

  Wait a minute. The box was gone. Maybe the robot had been stolen. Thieves rummaging through her things was an awful thought to have, but if that were so, she felt sorry for the dumb thieves who took him. She just hoped when Hover Hill started bossing them around the thieves didn’t try to bring him back to her. She had a no return policy where Hover Hill was concerned.

  “Good afternoon, Beth,” came the now familiar drone from the kitchen. “Come see what I have done.”

  Elizabeth's high hopes were dashed. Suddenly, she was aware of the delicious, vanilla scent wafting through the apartment. “I told you not to call me Beth,” she snapped as she marched to the kitchen door.

  Hover Hill stood by a plate, on the kitchen counter, mound high with chocolate chip cookies.

  Nodding at the plate, Hover stated proudly and with certainty, “Your favorite cookies right out of the oven.”

  “Maybe.” She said noncommittally. She hated to divulge the know it all robot was right about anything concerning her.

  “Have you eaten lunch?”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth snipped as she left the kitchen.

  “These cookies will be good with a cup of hot chocolate later on. Sit down in your favorite spot on the couch and relax,” he instructed, following her into the living room. He placed the cookies on
the coffee table. “By the way, be more careful with this cup of chocolate while you're in your Sunday clothes. I was able to get the stain out of your nightgown, but it wasn't easy.”

  “Thank you for the advice.” Elizabeth just barely heard him. She twisted a strand of her hair as she stared at the tempting plate. The cookies really did look delicious, and it had been a long time since she'd eaten homemade cookies. She might eat one if he wasn't aware of it. “How soon do your batteries run down?”

  “I only have one large battery, and when I power down my battery recharges itself.”

  “Just my luck,” she hissed under her breath as she plopped down on the couch. He moved near her. Scott’s letter now lay next to the cookies. Hover Hill must have picked it up from the floor. She snatched it and reread it, desperately wanting some indication about what to do next. She looked out of the corner of her eyes. The robot was standing at attention so close to her. It dawned on her Scott hadn't given her the definition for Hover Hill's first name. He surely omitted that on purpose, knowing she'd figure out what hover meant for herself.

  Without looking at him, Elizabeth tried to sound casual as she asked, “Where's the box you came in?”

  “It was in the way when I cleaned house. I flattened it and threw it in the trash.”

  So much for the sending him back to Scott idea. No delivery man was going to take a robot that isn't wrapped. “What happened to the garment bag filled with your clothes that was taped to the back of the box? Did you throw them out, too?”

  “No,” Hover droned. “I hung the clothes in the closet in the guest bedroom. I hope you do not mind.”

  “Hey, thank goodness for small favors. Your clothes are better off in there than in my personal closet. Now I’m going to read for class. You’ll have to go to the corner and get quiet so I can concentrate,” Elizabeth said, hoping he would give her some breathing room.

  “You are reading “Mirror Image” by Danielle Steele. I was programmed that you are a literary professor. What kind of classes do you teach? That book isn't exactly one of the classics,” Hover criticized.

  As her face heated up, Elizabeth leaned toward him. “Have you been going through my things?”

  Hover slowly raised his arm and pointed to the desk in the corner of the room. “The book is in plain sight amidst that mess on your desk. I had to dust. Speaking of which, you really should dust more often. Layers of dust are not good for your health. All that dust causes allergies.”

  “Thanks for sharing, Doctor Oz,” Elizabeth sassed.

  “You are welcome. You should know I am not programmed to be a doctor, but you have no need to worry. I will dust on a routine basis from now on so you do not get sick and need one,” Hover shared as if he was doing her a big favor.

  “I do my own housework on a routine basis. I don't need you to do it,” Elizabeth snapped.

  “Just which day did you plan on cleaning house?”

  “Two weeks from Saturday on my day off.”

  “From the condition this apartment is in, by then you would be a month too late. I will clean every day for you,” Hover stated in a matter of fact tone.

  “Ooh,” Elizabeth groaned.

  What was it going to take to get her privacy back? She had wished for companionship on lonely evenings once in a while. Clearly, she had to be more careful what she wished for from now on. Especially if her wish was going to come true. This one got her an obnoxious, brutally honest, brainwashed robot for a house mate.

  The next afternoon, she felt as if she entered the wrong apartment when she looked around the living room. Hover droned hello over his shoulder as he scalloped the last of the pine garland on the fireplace mantle. Her artificial Christmas tree blinked at her in front of the living room window. The dozen small, crystal angels smiled at her. She thought she’d put them away for good. Now they had taken up residence all around the room. It ran through her mind if she was really going crazy the friendly looking angels might start speaking to her next. If they did, she’d know for sure she was having a bad dream, or her mind had gone around the bend. That would make the robot the least of her worries.

  Elizabeth rushed at Hover. He whirled around faster than usual. She stopped in front of him. From his actions, he probably suspected that she was going to flip his switch. That's just what she'd do if she ever got the chance, and she'd never turn him back on. Good thing he couldn't read her mind. At least, he told her he couldn't. “What do you think you’re doing?” She shouted.

  “Decorating. You know that Christmas is almost upon us.”

  “I told you this morning to stay away from the window. That included decorating my artificial Christmas tree in front of it where you can be seen. What will the neighbors think?”

  “I am not programmed to read their minds. What will they think?”

  “Oh, never mind. Just know getting all these decorations out of my closet and putting them back away is work done for no good reason. I work all day. I don't have time for this nonsense. It’s a waste of my time,” Elizabeth complained.

  “You need not worry. I am programmed to put the decorations away after the holidays are over,” Hover assured her.

  “That’s fine if you’re still here,” she spat at him.

  “I will be. Your dinner is on the stove. Help yourself.” Hover walked over to his corner and turned his back to the wall.

  With grim pleasure, Elizabeth decided he might be miffed at her. Maybe she got through to him to back off. He needed to stop running her life and going through her things. She didn't like it that he snooped on her desk and in her closets.

  She tossed her briefcase on the couch and headed to the kitchen. After she'd eaten the meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and salad, she had to admit that the dinner was delicious. She went back to the living room and sat down at her now spotlessly clean desk. She opened her briefcase and took out a pile of term papers.

  Later, her concentration was interrupted by music, the soft, holiday song White Christmas. She twisted in her chair to glare at the robot. “What did you do?”

  Hover stood in front of her entertainment center. “I put on a DVD to set the mood.”

  “What mood? I need quiet while I have papers to grade.”

  “The Christmas mood, of course,” Hover reminded her.

  “I repeat I need quiet,” she gritted out, feeling her patience slipping once again.

  “It looks as if you are almost done with your work. I thought maybe you would like to take a break and dance,” he said, holding his fingers out to her.

  “Dance!” She shrieked, crossing the room to face the robot.

  “Yes. I put on this holiday music so we could dance. I am programmed to dance. I know you like to dance.”

  “You must be joking?” Elizabeth shrieked.

  “Joking. No, I have not been programmed for humor. Just step closer to me,” he said seriously. “I’ll show you how well I can dance.”

  “Don’t you ever run down and shut off?” Elizabeth asked crankily.

  Slowly, Hover shook his head no and held out his arms.

  Elizabeth relented. “All right, but will you let me be if I do this? Just one dance. I have to get the rest of those papers graded tonight. Besides, I get motion sickness easily. The last thing I need is to get sick right now from twirling around in circles.”

  “That is agreeable. I will dance a slow two step with you so you do not throw up on me. Anytime you want to stop all you have to do is say so.”

  Elizabeth felt his unyielding arm go around her waist and took the firm cold hand he held out. They moved slowly back and forth, and turned in a circle one way then the other direction.

  “No offense, but you are stiffer than I am. I sense it has been a long time since you have danced,” stated Hover.

  “Yes, it has. I tried to warn you I'm not a good dancer.”

  “Who was the lucky man who danced with you last?” Hover asked.

  “Steven Mitchell,” she blurted out, then wondered
why she bothered to mention his name. Her past relationships were none of this robot's business.

  Hover looked down at her as he questioned, “Why did Steven Mitchell stop?”

  “Stop what?”

  “Dancing with you?”

  “That’s none of your business, Mr. Nosy.”

  “My name is Hover Hill.”

  “Right! How do you like it?” Elizabeth patted her chest. “My name is Elizabeth. Now enough of this nonsense. Stop right now, and let go of me. Turn that music off and get in the corner. I need to get back to work,” Elizabeth ordered.

  Hover slowed to a stop and turned loose of her. As she walked away, he persisted. “I sense you have strong feelings for Steven Mitchell. You do not want to talk about the man.”

  Elizabeth whirled around. “Listen, Nosy, go shut down, back off, shut up or whatever it is you do over in that corner,” she yelled at him.

  Hover droned, “Did anyone ever suggest to you that you need to take anger management classes?”

  “You would try anyone's patience. Your bossy, know it all attitude stinks,” Elizabeth countered, fists on her hips.

  “It has been programmed into me to be tolerant of you. That way, I will be able to understand your poor attitude. However, your lifeless, no fun behavior has been unacceptable for years through no fault of anyone but yourself,” Hover shot back calmly.

  Elizabeth flushed with anger. “You crazy bucket of bolts, you have no right to say that to me. You don’t really know me.”

  “Wrong! I have been programmed to know you,” Hover declared adamantly.

  Elizabeth's head shot up. “Really! What is it that you think you know about me?”

  “For one thing, you are afraid of commitment. Otherwise, Steven Mitchell would never have left you,” Hover said bluntly.

  “That happened a long time ago. There's not anything I can do about the past. Steven was quick to marry someone else. He’s gone for good so don't bring up his name to me ever again.” Elizabeth wasn’t about to tell the robot she'd heard through the college grapevine that Steven’s marriage had come to an end. “Whether I’d be interested or not in things being different between Steven and me is a mute point. What are you anyway? A computer dating service with psychotherapy programmed in?”