by C. W. Crowe
Either might get me my fifth kiss or perhaps a withering look and thirty seconds of sarcastic remarks that would sting in their unfairness.
Then it came to me. I thought back to our time in the trees, hiding from the robot searchers. That's when she got cool to me and it was right after she asked whether I thought there were other groups of surviving humans.
It was the groups of humans she was concerned about! Lucy Hargrove, who had grown up in a secluded and small group of people, had been hurt because of her looks and it was still painful. That's why she just told me that story - to let me know how much it still hurt her.
I looked at her back as she rode ahead of me. She was confident in the saddle, her clothes not fully hiding the fact that she was a full grown woman. If the robots hadn't come when they did, she may have gone to college and made new friends and put her unhappy childhood behind her. After all, she wasn't hideous or anything - mostly she just had a big nose. Someone would have paired up with her at some point. But the robots had come and there was no one left for her to pair up with.
Until, years later, we were thrust together. It was strange how it worked out - she had been a lonely person her whole life and so had I. I think I saw the promise of our match long before she did.
Or maybe she saw it, saw how we might be together "till death do us part," but didn't dare let herself get too enamored with the idea.
At first, she planned to escape alone which would solve any problem she had with me. And then when we'd made it and we were still together, she began to wonder. I think she wondered about other people, other towns and other groups of humans.
And I think she wondered about me - about how I would act towards her if there were other young girls around.
I suspect she was worried that I'd move on to a more attractive model. And she dealt with that worry by keeping me at a distance, not letting herself fall for me so that it wouldn't hurt so bad if I betrayed her.
Suddenly what she'd just said made sense - she was telling me that she was now willing to let herself like me, to let her feelings develop.
And I could tell from her noises that it would be just like she'd said - if I did betray her, she'd never get over it and it would serve to remind her to never get close to anyone again.
Chapter Seventeen: Music
My mind was reeling with the revelation I'd just had so that, as I caught up with Lucy and was riding right beside her, I struggled with what to say.
It turned out that I didn't have to say anything because she spoke first, "I hear something. It's music."
Music? I hadn't heard music since the robots had zapped all the electronics. That put an end to all the phones, the Internet, even old fashioned CDs. All the players simply died as the world became suddenly music free.
But now, out here in a large empty field surrounded by trees, somewhere north of Sallisaw, Oklahoma, there was music. I could hear it now too, faintly.
There was a white farmhouse, barely visible past the western tree line, which seemed to be the source of what we were hearing.
"What do you think?" I asked Lucy.
"We should at least get close enough to see if it looks dangerous."
I knew she was getting ready to kick her horse into action, but before she could I said, "Wait a minute."
She looked at me with a questioning expression, but I didn't hesitate, "Lucy, thanks for telling me that - about the Facebook thing. You don't have to worry though, I won't let you down. I just won't. I'll watch your back . . ."
She finished for me, "And I'll watch yours."
I think if we'd been off our horses, I'd have been able to kiss her, but instead she smiled from ear to ear.
It was almost as good.
*.*.*
We tied the two horses to a fence post and walked slowly across the open field, side by side. There was a little thicket of green brush that we kept between us and the house just in case anyone was looking.
When we reached the thicket, we were only about twenty yards from the end of the field and the beginnings of the browned and overgrown lawn of the house. The music was clearly audible now, coming from a large garage that was attached to the house by a walkway. The tune wasn't anything I recognized - a lot of drums and brass with some lively rhythm. There was a windmill behind the garage that was now visible. Its blades were spinning slowly in the constant gentle breeze.
"How is this happening?" whispered Lucy. She was as perplexed as I was. It simply wasn't possible to play music anymore - unless you did it yourself. Her face lit up as she had the same idea I did - could there be an entire band inside the garage?
I was getting ready to suggest that I creep over towards the garage when another noise interrupted me. A small dog came running around the edge of the thicket and started barking at the top of its lungs. The music stopped instantly.
*.*.*
The dog didn't seem threatening in that he wasn't showing his teeth or growling, just barking his head off. A voice from the direction of the house called out, "Come! Come Humpey." At least that's what it sounded like. It was hard to tell.
The dog didn't obey, but he did stop barking. He squinted his eyes and looked annoyed. Lucy whispered, "Good dog. Good Humpey."
"You! Behind those bushes. Are you friendly?" It was a male voice, strong but with an accent.
What else could we do? I rose slightly and called out, "Very friendly. We were just passing by and heard your music."
There were a few seconds of silence. "You need food? Is that what you're here for?"
I could feel Lucy starting to answer, so I put my hand on her shoulder to let her know to keep quiet. We didn't know a thing about this guy and he likely didn't know that one of us was a woman. She shot me a glance that looked about as annoyed as the dog.
"No, we've got food."
Another pause, "Got any meat?"
"Some jerky. It's tough but okay."
A man stepped out the garage and we saw him for the first time. He was old, with long flowing white hair with a matching beard that reached a point at about his collar bone. He had on shorts that showed his skinny white legs and a t-shirt that hinted at an ample belly. He was carrying a rifle in the crook of his arm. "You like beer?" he asked.
My robot family had let me drink a beer a couple of times. It was okay, though I liked champagne better. "Sure," I called out.
"How are you armed?"
Lucy whispered, "He didn't ask if we were armed." It was a good point.
I looked around, maybe hoping things had changed, but they hadn't. We were still behind a thicket of bushes that offered little protection and with a large open field behind us. He could open up with that rifle now or later and it wouldn't matter - if he was a decent shot and had some ammo, we'd be dead.
I called out, "We have a pistol and a knife. I see you're armed too. How do you want to handle this?"
"You said you were attracted to my music. In my experience, music lovers aren't prone to violence, but hard times call for a high degree of caution. Here's what we'll do.
"First, I'll take my rifle and lean it against the garage. I'll step away from it a bit so it'll take me a few seconds to get to it. You'll have time to respond if I'm up to something nefarious - which I'm not. I'll be in no danger since you likely can't hit me with a pistol from that distance.
"Then you come out and take out your pistol and the knife. Hold them out in clear view and then both you dudes lift up your shirts so I can see that you don't have anything else hidden. Once we got that out of the way, you put your index finger through the trigger guard and just let the gun hang free - like you could spin it on your finger. Now, you hold your hand up above your head as both of you walk to me. If you are up to something, it'll take a few seconds for you to get the gun down and I'll have time to maybe get to my rifle. The only really safe thing to do is to meet in peace."
I looked a question at Lucy and she knew what it was. "If you want that beer, I don't see any other way. He doesn
't look or sound dangerous, and he's being careful, which is, I think, a good sign."
*.*.*
Things progressed exactly as he'd suggested except for the moments after we appeared and held up our sweatshirts so he could see we didn't have anything else stuck down in our pants.
The old man had a look of surprise on his face. "I'm right sorry, ma'am. Never realized that one was a dude and the other a lady. What's that on your stomach, ma'am?"
I could tell from Lucy's noises that she wasn't sure if she should be pleased or annoyed at being called "ma'am."
"It's a bandage, a rag held on by some duct tape we found. I cut myself accidentally."
We walked the remaining distance to him, and as we got closer, I heard his noises clearly. I hadn't been around any old people in a long time, but I remembered what they sounded like. This guy didn't sound threatening at all.
I put down the gun and Lucy dropped the knife. We shook hands and Lucy introduced us.
The old man said his name was Lucky John Monroe. He asked us to call him Lucky.
"Come on inside, young people. I've got a first aid kit in here somewhere and I think it would be a good idea for this young lady to clean the wound and put a proper bandage on it."
As we entered the garage, the dog came flying inside, running between us, his claws scratching on the floor. I hardly noticed because I was too busy looking at the source of the music.
Lucky said, "Don't mind him. He's just showing off for company."
*.*.*
I'd seen one of them somewhere. It was an old Victrola, a record player with a fat needle and a wind up handle on the side. You just wound up the handle, put a record on the red felt turntable and dropped the needle. I looked in the back but there was no power cord.
Lucky John Monroe returned in time to see how I was mystified. He had a white metal box with a red cross on the front. He handed it to Lucy and then turned to me. "Don't need to plug it in. The motor is run by a big heavy spring. You add energy by turning the handle."
I knew that. "But how about the amplifier? How do you power it?"
He smiled. "Don't need that either. See that round thing the needle is mounted in?"
It looked a little like a hockey puck. "That's the transducer. It takes the vibrations from the needle and 'amplifies' them and sends the sound to this here horn."
Lucy was standing there holding the first aid kit with her other hand on her hip. "I hate to break up this nerd fest, but where can I go to use this?"
Lucky slapped himself on the forehead. "I'm right sorry, young lady. I guess I'm getting forgetful in my old age. It's right through that door. A bathroom. Water works and everything."
I felt a squirt of guilt that I'd not asked about it and said, "You need any . . ."
"No thank you, Leonard. I'll manage on my own."
Uh oh. I'd have to be extra attentive from now own.
She went into the room and I heard a click signifying a lock. But I almost immediately heard another click and the door opened. Lucy appeared and said, "Ah, Mr. Monroe, you have a shower. A real one. Do you mind if I . . ."
"Only on one condition there, young lady. You can use the shower all right, but you have to call me Lucky. Deal?"
She smiled at him, "Deal," she said and then she turned her attention to me. "Leo, would you mind getting the horses? I need my bag, it's got some fresher clothes and we promised Mister . . . Lucky . . . that we had some jerky." She disappeared back inside and the lock snapped again.
Lucky put on a new record and dropped the needle. "You go on and get your mounts, son."
I started to leave and then had second thoughts. His gun was just outside and Lucy was in his bathroom.
Lucky took a few steps to the door, "Come on, I'll walk with you."
It seemed he was sharp enough to understand my concern.
*.*.*
After we untied both horses and were walking back to the farmhouse, Lucky looked up at the sky and said, "That wife of yours, I can tell she's got some puckishness in her. My wife, Martha, was the same way, kept me on my toes for almost fifty years."
I started to tell him that we weren't married, but something held me back. Instead I said, "Is your wife . . .”
"Gone to her reward son. Happened right after the damn robots came, but they didn't have nothing to do with it. It was the doctors; I blame them. Charged our insurance over a hundred thousand dollars and she lived less than a month. We'd have both been better off not to have wasted what time we had left with them."
The only sound I could hear was the music playing as we got to the edge of the field. I wanted to say something to fill the uncomfortable silence, but couldn't think of anything. I got Lucy's bag and we went inside.
Chapter Eighteen: The Message
I took Lucy's bag to the bathroom door and knocked. "It's me," I said, feeling a little foolish but wanting her to know I was really back.
The door opened an inch or so and I could see her staring at me. I held up the bag, but it didn't fit through the crack.
She opened it even more so that I could see inside. She had a towel wrapped around her body and the towel was barely big enough.
She took the bag and said, "Put your eyes back into your head. There’s nothing all that interesting to see here." She shut the door in my face.
Before I could turn away, it opened again - just a crack. "Thank you, Leo," she said softly. I couldn’t help myself – I smiled as I went to see what records Lucky had in his collection. And I wondered what she was thanking me for.
*.*.*
Dinner was good - fresh vegetables from Lucky's garden and jerky from our stash washed down with beer in the bottle. The beers were a little flat, but I didn't care because they tasted clean. Humpey the dog gnawed on a piece of the jerky for quite a while and then whined for more. I gave him another piece.
"Why do you call him Humpey?" I asked. It seemed like a reasonable question, but I heard Lucy's noises shift gears and her eyes became slits.
"It’s what he does - or did anyway. Never could break him of the habit, but he's getting old now so I guess I could call him Sleepy instead."
Lucy shot me a look that said I was the dumbest man left on earth, but I was on my third beer so I didn't particularly care.
"Where you young people headed?" Lucky asked.
I wasn't sure if I should say, but Lucy answered, "We're thinking of heading to Vegas. Leo grew up there."
"Vegas? Las Vegas?"
"Yeah, that's the one." Lucy could sometimes make anyone feel stupid.
He grinned from ear to ear at her. I could feel something in his noises, a little appreciation, almost like a remembering. I guess it was because of Lucy's puckishness.
When she'd come out of the shower, I was busy looking at records and only noticed her movement out of the corner of my eye. She was in her pajamas again, wearing socks. At first I was surprised, but then realized we both only had, at most, two outfits. Now that we had horses and could carry more stuff, I thought we should probably make an effort to round up some more clothes.
She was carrying her jeans and sweatshirt. "I hope you don't mind, Lucky. I washed them out. I'll hang them outside to dry."
*.*.*
After dinner, it started to get dark in the garage and a miracle occurred. Actually, Lucky just rose and went over and flipped a switch that was mounted on the wall. It was a normal light switch that was useless without electricity, but now the lights came on!
Both Lucy and I said something in surprise.
"Guess I should have warned you," Lucky said, "Ain't nothing much - the windmill charges some car batteries. I had an RV at one time and it had some DC light bulbs in it, so I just rigged them up in here. I spend most of my time out here in the garage since it's wide open and has got all my toys in it. My wife told me I'd built it twice as big as needed so I would have room to expand my junk collection. That's what she called my record player and radios and other stuff."
He mot
ioned for us to come over. Lucy and I stood side by side in front of a shelf with a line of old looking things that I thought were radios. He flipped a switch on a long flat looking one that had several large knobs across the front.
In a few seconds, I heard static and hissing noises coming from a horn looking thing that must have been a speaker. I could feel Lucy's shock as she blurted out, "But I had portable radios, batteries too for a while. None of them worked. Nothing electronic works at all except some things in robot cities."
Lucky shook his head and grinned, "No ma'am. That ain't exactly right. This radio was made in 1924. It's just basically wires and metal and glass. Anything modern - with transistors or ICs - none of that works. But this old stuff, it wasn't affected by whatever the robots did."
He adjusted knobs with both hands, but all we heard was the sounds of a radio that wasn’t picking up anything.
“It’s been like that for a long time. At first, after the robots went crazy, I picked up signals from here and there, but there’s been nothing for the last year except, once in a while, some guy who says there are people in Los Alamos. He invites people to come there.”
“Do you think there are still people there?” asked Lucy.
Lucky stroked his beard, “I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything in a month or two, but it’s kind of on the way to Vegas. You could make a little detour and find out if you wanted to.”
Chapter Nineteen: A Good Night's Rest
That news was shocking to me. I looked at Lucy, but wasn’t sure what she was thinking. I’d like to know there were other people around, but I was also aware of her worries about how I would behave around them.
Lucky turned off his radio and seemed to hobble over to his chair. As he sat, I thought he looked old.
