Mechanical

by Pauline C. Harris

  “More like thirty minutes. Someone offered me a ride so I took it. I didn’t know where you were.”

  “Fine. But you still need to tell me your observations,” he said, beckoning for me to follow him.

  We reached the recording device lying on the table and I began to recount my day.

  Afterwards, I hurried into my room to work on the paper. I sat on my bed thinking for nearly twenty minutes, wondering what to do. What Michael had suggested had helped, but I was still unsure. What did I care about? What did I truly care about? I cared about my friends at the Institution. I cared about my friends at school. I cared about things that happened to me and what I would do every day. But something else came to my mind. It seemed so small, so simple. So insignificant. It was nothing more than a dream. Michael had talked to me about it like it was something he knew was truly possible, but I knew better. He made it sound so easy, so fun. It was a chance at a real life.

  I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to express what I was feeling, not just be told what I was, what I was to do, and the way things were. I wanted to write, and I wanted people to listen. I wanted to pour out my heart and soul into words on a piece of paper. I wanted to express my soul in writing. In a way, I wanted to prove that there was a soul inside of me; that I wasn’t just a metal shell filled with wires and databases and programs. I wanted to prove I was real, to others and to myself.

  That’s what I truly cared about.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Drew, you are so lucky,” Hailey proclaimed, setting her lunch tray down at our table. “That is so cool to get the highest grade on that English paper.”

  I moved over, making room for her.

  “You always have good grades. So unfair.” Jessica stuck her tongue out at me playfully. “How do you do it?”

  I smiled self-consciously. “I don’t know.”

  Caroline raised her brows. “Miss Perfect,” she said teasingly.

  “Oh, I know, right?” Jessica said to Caroline, then to me, “Look at you, good grades and gorgeous. How’d you end up so lucky?”

  I chewed my lip, aware that my face was heating up. “I am not gorgeous,” I protested, thinking of Yvonne. Yvonne was the lucky one, not I. Whenever I stood next to her, I felt like a wilting flower next to a tall, dark, rose. Her mysterious beauty was probably what gave her the confidence that I wish I had.

  “Oh puh-leez, Drew.” Jessica said. “Don’t deny it. You’ve got what any girl would kill for—long legs, perfect hair, blue eyes.”

  “Pfft,” I said to her, starting to become embarrassed.

  “Really. It’s true,” Jessica said knowingly. “I happen to know there are a lot of guys here who like you, including my brother.”

  This caught my attention. “How do you know?” I tried hard to make it sound carefree as I busied myself opening my juice box, surprisingly a lot easier said than done.

  “By the way he acts around you and talks about you all the time.”

  “That means he likes me?”

  Jessica giggled. “He really likes you. A lot.”

  I started to blush again.

  “I really think he wants to ask you out.”

  The forkful of food I was about to eat stopped a few inches away from my mouth. “Ask me out?”

  “I think he’s going to, soon.”

  “As in...?” I asked again.

  “You know, a date.”

  “Oh,” was all I could think to say, lowering the fork back to my plate. “Are you sure?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, what do I say to something like that? I mean if he really does um...ask me out?” I stared at her uncertainly, confused about the strange feelings forming in my stomach.

  “Say yes, if you like him,” Hailey piped up. “I mean, he’s a good catch. He’s hot.”

  Jessica snorted. “Yeah, right. You should see him at home.”

  “You only think that because he’s your brother,” Caroline answered, giggling.

  “Well, you would feel the same way if you knew him the way I do.” Jessica made a face and we all laughed.

  “But anyways, Drew, it’s your call. Just say whatever, depending on whether you like him or not,” Hailey told me, taking a bite of her apple.

  I swallowed my food, not knowing what to say. It was kind of exciting to think that Michael might ask me out, but at the same time, the idea made me nervous and I wondered what my answer would be if he really went through with it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I saw something—my math book—flying towards me and I quickly reached out and grabbed it as it hurled by, mere inches from my face.

  “You left it here this morning,” Yvonne stated from across the room.

  I nodded. “Yep, I found that out in class,” I told her, setting it down on my bedside table as I entered the room. “And by the way, you could have jabbed my eye out.”

  Yvonne snorted derisively. “Yeah right. You’d catch it whether I was here or right in front of you, shoving it into your face.”

  I gave her an irritated look.

  “So...?” she started. “Who was the guy?” She folded her arms as she sat down on her bed, pinning me with her penetrating gaze.

  “What guy?” I asked, sincerely confused.

  “Oh, come on. You know what I mean. The guy who drove you home. Twice.” She positioned herself on her bed, getting comfortable as she leaned back against the pillows, an expectant expression adorning her features.

  “Oh ... yeah. He’s just a guy from school,” I replied casually, realizing she must have meant Michael. She had seen him drive me home? But if she had seen me, who else from the Institution had? I started cleaning up my dresser, trying to look nonchalant.

  “You like him.”

  I spun around, nearly dropping the pile of clothes I had been holding. “How would you even know that?”

  Yvonne smiled smugly, having fun at my expense. “Oh, just the way you guys acted and how you looked when you walked in.” Her tone was drawn out, tantalizing me with every word, making sure she could tease me with every ounce of information she had. Or, more accurately, torture me.

  I raised one brow. “Maaaaybe.”

  Yvonne sat up straight. “Have you kissed him yet?”

  “No!” I said, startled.

  Yvonne threw her head back and laughed as if my reaction was absurd. “Why not?” She started twirling her short hair between her fingers.

  “Um ... I don’t know,” I replied, feeling my face growing red. I turned around to continue arranging things on my dresser.

  “It’s fun kissing guys,” she said, her lips twisting into a knowing smile as she continued to play with her hair.

  My mouth gaped as I turned around and stared at her. “How would you know?”

  “How do you think?”

  I sat down on my bed, watching her. The thought of kissing Michael hadn’t actually occurred to me yet. But then again, most of the worldly ideas my friends talked about were quite slow to appear in my mind.

  “He was cute,” Yvonne added, watching me closely.

  I looked away, becoming even more embarrassed. “Kind of.”

  “So what’s his name?”

  I hesitated, wondering whether I should tell her or not. “Um ... Michael,” I said slowly, thinking it could do no harm.

  “Hmm.” Yvonne said. “Nice name. Is he in a lot of your classes?”

  I looked away.

  “Oh, come on,” Yvonne drawled. “What do you think I’m gonna do? Murder him? I’m just making conversation.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, he’s in a few of my classes,” I admitted, telling myself that giving her this information couldn’t do any harm. Just the same, why didn’t I trust her?

  Well, maybe because she was sneaky, conniving and conceited?

  But whatever, it wasn't as if, like she had pointed out, she was going to perform some horrific crime. She was just Yvonne.

  Yeah. Well, the Yvonne I used to know wouldn�
�t have done anything terrible, but she had changed over time. Her ego had gotten bigger—much bigger, and she seemed ready to do whatever was necessary to get what she wanted. Her cute and bright ‘little kid’ smile had faded into one of cynicism. I never knew what she was thinking, but I could always tell when she was scheming.

  “Hmm,” Yvonne replied, suddenly uninterested.

  The subject seemed dropped so I busied myself with the dresser. Just as I was color-coding my T-shirts (something I do a lot in the Institution since activities are rare and monotonous) Yvonne decided to speak up.

  “You know, Drew, you could do better.”

  I looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you know he’s human.”

  “Yeah. I noticed,” I replied, starting to understand what she was getting at.

  “I mean, there are tons of guys here who are perfect,” she stated. “You’re not bad looking or anything, so you don’t have to dig around down on the human level for a guy. Although some androids might want to,” she added disdainfully, making a face.

  I didn’t laugh, suddenly realizing something I should have figured out a long time ago. “We’re not perfect Yvonne,” I said in monotone. When she looked up, I glared at her. “No matter how perfect you think we are, we’re not.”

  She straightened up, getting ready to protest, but I beat her to it.

  “We’re no better than those humans you think so lowly of.”

  Yvonne started to look irritated.

  “They tried to make us perfect, but they can’t.” My voice rose slightly. “Not without the most important piece.”

  Yvonne sighed with condescension. “Not this soul thing again, Drew, please,” she said snottily. She looked away, exasperation lining her features.

  “What? It’s what makes someone different and not a robot! We’re not really alive. We’re just a bunch of mechanical parts jumbled together to resemble the humans. We’re just a copy of them. A copy that looks nice on the outside, but that’s empty on the inside.”

  Yvonne stared pointedly at me, her dark-eyed gaze dangerously pinning me to my spot. “You always need a rough draft first before you can perfect something,” she argued, seeming to think it was a good comeback.

  I shook my head. “I think the creator of the humans did a good enough job in the first place. We weren’t needed.” My comment stung me just as much as I knew it had insulted Yvonne.

  “You know what?” Yvonne stood up, her expression shooting daggers at me. “I don’t need to hear you mope about how badly you want a stupid soul. It’s not worth it,” she snapped, her dark eyes flashing furiously.

  “But don’t you see?” I replied. “It’s not fair to us. They made us, but we’re not...” I trailed off, suddenly not wanting to fight anymore. It was no use. No matter how badly I wanted it or how upset I was, there was no way I was ever going to get a soul. I stopped talking and stared out the window.

  “Whatever,” Yvonne snapped and walked towards the door. But before she left the room, she turned back to me. “I just hope someday you realize how much better than them you really are.”

  And with that, she abruptly left me alone.

  Chapter Twenty

  The lights in Glen’s study were dim and papers lay strewn about his desk, something unusual for a man of such orderliness. I sat across from him as he ruffled through a pile of documents. “Okay, Drew. You’re getting farther in your mission now,” he said to me. “We’re going to request that you, like we’ve asked a few others already on this mission, to start bringing people in.”

  “Bringing people in?” I asked numbly, not believing my ears. Was he finally asking me to get on with the real mission? He finally trusted me? I was going to be able to be as good an android as Yvonne and Jeremy. I expected some sort of excitement, some form of elation at the fact that Glen had just bestowed upon me his confidence and support, but surprisingly, no elation came over me.

  He nodded and handed me some information. “Her name is Cecelia Fleming.”

  I looked at the picture. I didn't know Cecelia very well, but she was in a few of my classes at school. “Why are we bringing people in?” I asked. When Glen had ordered me to bring Marian back, the order had made sense. I was bringing her back because she was malfunctioning and the creators needed to fix her – and they did. But what did they want the humans for?

  Glen smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s not for you to ask. You’re job is simply to bring her here.”

  “How?” I asked. “And when?”

  “Today. And I don’t care how, as long as you don’t cause a lot of attention to yourself and what you’re doing. Lure her here somehow. Tell her you have something to show her,” Glen suggested. “See you after school.”

  I smiled uncertainly. I had been waiting for this moment for what seemed like forever, but it didn’t feel like I had thought it would. Actually, I hadn’t really thought about it for quite some time. I shrugged the thought away. I was going to do this for the creators. I was going to show them that I could fulfill the mission and that I would be good at it.

  * * * *

  I walked through the school hallways, still trying to think up a plan to get Cecelia to the Institution. I wondered why Glen wanted her. Didn’t he always tell me to keep what I was and where I came from a secret? Why would he purposefully want a human at the Institution? I needed the answers to these questions eventually, but at the moment, I was willing to fulfill my mission.

  The bell rang for school to be over and I knew I was out of time. I had thought up one plan, hoping it would spark an idea for a better one, but I couldn't come up with anything else so this time it had to do.

  I went through it again in my mind as I walked towards Cecelia’s locker. “Cecelia,” I called, and a girl dressed in a hot pink shirt, white skirt, black leggings and knee-high boots, looked up at me. She had pink steaks in her long blonde hair and thick black liner around her eyes, creating a strange gothic look.

  “Hey Drew,” she said.

  “I think I found something of yours. You lost a jacket yesterday didn’t you?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, that was my favorite one. Did you find it?” she asked hopefully, turning towards me with bright eyes.

  “I think so.”

  “Is it light blue?” she asked.

  I nodded and smiled, although I had no jacket of hers. I had only heard that she had lost it the other day. “It’s at my house. If you want to walk home with me, I can get it for you,” I suggested. “It’s not a long walk.”

  Cecelia looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well, you could just bring it to school tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, but I’d like to get it out of my room,” I told her. “And I’m usually pretty forgetful. I’d probably end up leaving it at home.” The lie was hollow, but it would have to work.

  “Oh.” Cecelia replied. “I guess I could walk home with you.”

  “Great,” I said with a smile. “You ready?”

  She shut her locker and we headed for the front doors. As we walked across the school grounds and along the sidewalk in awkward silence, I racked my brain for something to say. “Are you walking home afterwards?” I asked lamely, thinking of nothing else conceivably relevant.

  She shook her head. “I have a piano lesson so I’ll be walking there after I get my jacket back.”

  “Oh. Cool, I didn’t know you played,” I said, genuinely surprised.

  “Yeah,” she smiled. “I love piano.”

  I looked at her. She didn’t seem like someone who would be into something so ordinary as piano. She seemed the more extravagant type. “I never thought of you as the piano type.”

  Cecelia laughed. “Yeah, a lot of people don’t seem to think I would like it at all,” she said. “But I really do. I want to major in music for college. I know I don’t exactly look like that kind of person, but I totally love classical music. Clementi’s my favorite.” She stared at me with genuine happiness. />
  I stared back, surprised. “That’s cool. I’ve never been able to play a musical instrument.”

  “It’s actually not that hard. And super fun, by the way.” She smiled, more to herself than to me, and started running her fingers through her hair to smooth it out.

  I nodded as we walked along. Cecelia hummed quietly to herself, her boots making clicking sounds as she strolled along the pavement.

  I had never suspected, ever, that Cecelia would play classical piano. She just seemed like the statement-making girl in my class who always wore rocker attire. Her image warded off people. I had never suspected she had another side to her.

  Suddenly, the Institution came into view and I started thinking up excuses to tell her about my living conditions. “They’re condos,” I told her, feeling the lie burn on my tongue like fire.

  We walked up the front steps. “But that sign says—” Cecelia started, looking at the words painted on the Institution doors.

  “It’s from the old business that used to be here,” I interrupted her, leading her inside.

  Once we were in the lobby, I stopped. What was I supposed to do now? I had no idea. They had just told me to bring her here. I’d done that, now what?

  Just then, David walked into the room. “Hey guys,” he said, looking at me.

  I thought quickly and made something up on the spot. “Um, I put your sweater in the lost-and-found here...” I blurted out lamely. “David will show you where it is.”

  “Okay ...” Cecelia said slowly, giving me a strange look. Then she eyed David suspiciously.

  “Hi Cecelia,” David said with a smile so fake it made my mouth hurt. “Follow me.”

  I watched Cecelia follow him cautiously through the doors at the end of the lobby and disappear behind them, leaving me alone in the silent room to deal with my thoughts. I wondered why they wanted her. Were they going to let her in on the secret of what we were? I really could think of no other explanation.

  “I see you've finally figured out how to get to the next level,” came Yvonne’s syrupy drawl from behind me.