Stupefying Stories: July 2013 (Stupefying Stories II)

by Russ Colson

  After another silent moment, Elyon begins. “We found out yesterday that my cousins were carted off to the parts farm.” Elyon clenches and unclenches his fists as he speaks. “They lived in Pittsburgh. I guess the raids are getting more intense.”

  We were silent, absorbing the news. In the last few years we’d all become familiar with what people called the robot agenda. Basically, people thought robots were trying to overpower humans. It got worse when President Ford came into office in ’74. His solution to the economic woes was to ROAR, or Root Out All Robots. When he ran for President again last year, Dad said he would never get re-elected, but he did. Since then, the raids have been bad.

  “It’ll stop soon.” Matty tried and failed to be reassuring.

  “It won’t.” Elyon shakes his head. “It’s getting worse.”

  “It’s still just big cities though,” I say. “Maybe it won’t ever happen here.” Elyon just looks sadly at me.

  “It will,” he says, so completely sure of himself.

  ¤

  “This is so stupid.” Elyon throws his pencil. It bounces across the kitchen table and onto the floor. I set down my pencil, leaning over to look at his paper. He’s halfway through a math problem. “Why do I have to learn this?” He crumples up the worksheet and throws it across the room. It hits a cabinet and falls to the ground just as his dad walks in.

  Mr. Copra bends and picks up the work sheet. He’s looked exactly the same for as long as I’ve known him. About six foot tall, wavy brown hair, empathetic brown eyes. He was the perfect image of suburban dad. Mrs. Copra was exactly the same with curly reddish-brown hair and a collection of dresses that would have made June Cleaver jealous.

  “What’s going on out here?” Mr. Copra asks, flattening out the work sheet.

  “Learning all this is dumb,” Elyon says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why can’t you just upload it to me?”

  “Because that would be cheating.” Mr. Copra pulls out a chair and sits down, winking at me. “No one can upload it to Nate’s brain, can they?”

  “Nate’s not a robot.”

  “You’re not?” Mr. Copra looks at me with fake surprise and I smile despite myself. “Is that why you think you should be fed so regularly?”

  “You’re not funny, Dad.” Elyon glares at him. Elyon can eat, I’ve seen him eat plenty, but he doesn’t need to. He insists on bringing lunch to school though.

  “I’d love to have it uploaded if I could,” I say. It’s the truth. Who wouldn’t want to skip all the learning when it came to math?

  “I’m sure most of the kids in your class feel that way,” Mr. Copra says, turning to Elyon. “But learning is a large part of being human. If you didn’t have to learn math and history like they do, how would you learn to have feelings like they do? Your brain is wired to grow and change just like a human’s. Without it, we’d still be nothing more than government soldiers. It was robots like your own grandfather who proved we were more than that.”

  “Whatever. I’ve heard this all a million times,” Elyon says, rolling his eyes. “He and the other robots in his units refused to kill the Japanese at the Tule Lake internment camp. It was the first time robots had ever disobeyed an order.”

  “Maybe I’ve told the story a few times,” Mr. Copra says grinning. “The point is your grandfather fought so that you could be seen as a human, which makes it doubly important that you do all you can to learn what it means to be human.”

  “But I’m not.” Elyon glares. “I wish you’d stop acting like everything is fine. They’re killing robots all over the country.”

  Mr. Copra’s smile falters. “I know, son, but that doesn’t mean we need to lose our humanity. You’re not getting this information uploaded. I don’t want you to worry about what is going on out there. It’s still far away.”

  “You’re blind.” Elyon shakes his head. “I’m going to bed. Bye, Nate.”

  I sit stunned as Elyon grabs his math book and work sheet, leaving the room. Mr. Copra sighs. “He told you about his cousins?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s bad business, this ROAR plan. It’s making life dangerous for many robots.”

  “You really think it won’t happen here?”

  “Of course it won’t.” Mr. Copra smiles and for the first time, I can see that it’s false. No matter what he says, he knows things are getting worse.

  ¤

  The next few weeks are a blur of news headlines: Another Two Thousand Robots Evacuated From Philadelphia, Los Angeles Requires Ten Thousand Members Of The Robot Population To Leave, President Ford Announces Plans To Revoke Citizenship Of Over Half a Million Robots. Each day I scanned the papers, looking for signs that the crisis might be coming to a stop. Instead, it only got worse.

  I was just finishing my English project with Matty when I heard something that made my blood run cold. It was almost Thanksgiving break and we were sitting at the dining room table finishing our author project on Lloyd Alexander. From the living room I could hear the news anchor on TV.

  “In breaking news, expect to see a military presence in our city over the next few weeks as roughly five thousand robots will be evacuated from Albany and the surrounding area.”

  “Evacuated, my ass.” I look up at the unexpected curse coming from Dad. Matty meets my eyes, worry clouding his.

  “Please remain calm as the government does its best to keep us safe from the robot agenda. A tip line has been set up and you’ll see it at the bottom of the screen. Please call if you’ve noticed any suspicious activity in your area. Now over to Thomas in entertainment.”

  “Thanks Jack. Big news for Albany area fans of Jimi Hendrix as he takes to the stage this weekend.”

  “Bullsh—” The TV goes quiet as Dad shuts it off.

  “Mark,” Mom tries to hush him. “The boys will hear.”

  “I don’t give a damn if they hear.” Dad strides into the dining room. “You two know this is b.s., right?”

  I nod.

  “Course it is,” Matty says. “My dad said Ford’s just looking to distract people from the energy crisis.”

  “It’s racial profiling,” Dad says, beginning to pace. “Ford’s as bad as Hitler carting away Jews and the media acts like it’s no big deal. If he was doing this to blacks or women we’d sure as hell hear about it, but no, it’s robots. No one cares about robots because they aren’t even human.” He goes to the sideboard and pulls out a glass and a bottle of scotch, pouring a generous splash. “I tell you what we should do; we should head right on down to Albany and join up with whatever protesters they have there.” He nods and takes a long swallow from the glass.

  “Is Elyon going to be okay?” I ask in the moment of silence that follows.

  “Of course he is.” Mom rushes over to pull me into an awkward hug from my chair. “Elyon is going to be just fine.”

  “Don’t lie to the kid.” Dad slams his glass down on the table, leaning forward. Again, Matty’s eyes dart to mine. “If they’re carting robots away in Albany, than you can be damn sure they’re going to be up here carting them away.” He picks up his glass again, shaking his head. “It ain’t right.”

  “Well we gotta do something.” I look at Matty, and he nods in agreement.

  “I’m going to Albany tomorrow,” Dad says. I won’t stand idly by while they do this in my town.”

  “We’ll go too,” I say.

  “You’ll do no such thing.” Mom crosses her arms. “You’re staying here with me.”

  “I want to go with Dad.”

  “You’re too young.”

  “She’s right, Champ.”

  I slam my hands down on the table, pushing myself up. “Elyon is my friend. You told me to stand up for my friends.”

  “You’ll find another way to stand up for him,” Dad says. “I’m sorry, but it could be dangerous in Albany.”

  “That’s not fair.” Even as I say it, I know it’s making me sound even more like a child, but I can’t help it. �
��Come on Matty, let’s finish in my room.”

  Mom and Dad are silent as we gather up our things and leave the room. Before we are even halfway up the stairs I hear murmuring as they begin speaking in hushed tones. When we’re in my room, I close the door and drop everything on my desk before flopping back across my unmade bed. Matty lies down beside me and we’re silent for a moment, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling. I glance around at the posters on my wall, the trophies lined up on my bookshelf, and the superhero comics on my bedside table. It all feels too childish and I fight the urge to pull it all to the ground and stomp on it.

  “What are you thinking?” Matty finally asks.

  “I won’t let Elyon get hauled off.”

  “Me either.”

  “What do we do?”

  “I dunno.”

  We lay there in silence a long time, neither of us knowing what to say or do.

  ¤

  “Would Elyon Copra please report to the principal’s office? Elyon Copra to the principal’s office.”

  We all come to a stop as the voice booms over the intercom system. Elyon looks at Matty and then me, as if we might know what is going on. I shrug. It’s been four days since we heard the news about Albany. Dad went there the next morning. He called a couple times, saying he found a group of robot-rights supporters that are fighting against the evacuations, but it’s not going so well.

  “Did you get in trouble?” Matty asks. Of the three of us, it’s usually him who is called to the principal. “Whatever they say you did, deny it.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Elyon says.

  “That was good, very convincing.” Matty slaps Elyon on the back. “Keep it up.”

  Elyon rolls his eyes. “You two go ahead to lunch.”

  “No way, we’ll come and wait for you outside the office,” I say.

  “Thanks.” Elyon nods.

  Together we walk toward the office, stopping just outside and letting Elyon go in alone. Matty and I cross the hall to wait. Matty drops his backpack to the floor and leans against the lockers, crossing his arms. His sandy blond curls are a mess, but for some reason girls seem to like them. He grins.

  “What do you think Elyon did?”

  “Probably nothing,” I answer honestly, hooking my thumbs in the straps of my backpack. “He never gets in any trouble.”

  “Says the kid who’s never even had detention,” Matty teases.

  “Just because you like spending your afternoons staring at Mrs. Kearn’s wrinkly face doesn’t mean I do.”

  “I like staring at Lisa Wilson’s tight jeans in detention, that’s what I like.”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “Why can’t you like a nice girl who isn’t headed to juvie?”

  “Those girls are boring. I’ll leave them for guys like you.”

  “Shut up.” I punch him in the shoulder and he holds it in mock pain.

  “I mean it. I’ll put in a good word with Ashley Wilson for ya.”

  I can feel the tips of my ears turning red at the suggestion and I’m just about to answer, when Matty pushes away from the locker and grabs his backpack. I turn to see Elyon coming out of the office. Principal Jenson is standing in the office with his arms crossed watching him leave.

  “What happened?” I ask, sure that Matty was right and Elyon did actually get into some sort of trouble.

  “I have to leave school,” Elyon says, his voice flat with shock. “All the robot students do.”

  “What?” I ask. My mind is swimming as a voice comes over the loudspeaker, asking for Tamilyn Finn. All of a sudden it hits me that every name called to the office so far that day was a robot. “They can’t do that. You have a right to go to school.”

  “You have to be at school,” Matty says. “All kids do.”

  “Well apparently, not robot kids anymore. I have to leave right now.”

  “That’s—” I search for the word. “Bullcrap.”

  “Yeah.” Matty claps me on the back. “It is.”

  “I gotta go,” Elyon says. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  “No way,” Matty says. “If you don’t go to school here, we don’t go to school here. Right, Nate?”

  “Right,” I say, though I’m not so sure.

  “Come on.” Matty puts an arm across Elyon’s shoulder and starts tugging him toward the door. I hesitate only a moment before following.

  We’re out the door and halfway to the street when the door opens behind us. I glance back to see Principal Jenson himself standing on the steps. “Matt Jenkins, Nathan Myers, you two get back here.”

  I watch in awe as Matty turns and lifts his middle finger at Principal Jenkins. “Come on,” Matty says, turning and running. Elyon and I share a quick smile before we follow.

  ¤

  I’m alone in my room that night when the first signs of trouble start. Mom was mad when I got home, but not at me.

  “I can’t believe the school is letting this happen,” she said as she ushered me in and waved to Elyon and Matty. “And I told the principal so when he called.”

  I was proud of her for standing up for Elyon like that. It didn’t change the fact that I was suspended for a week, but that was fine with me.

  When I hear the trucks pull to a stop on the street below, I don’t realize what it is at first. I stand and go to the window, watching in numb surprise as soldiers pile out of one of the two big transport trucks on the street below. When what’s happening hits me, I run from the room. I don’t even stop to grab my jacket and burst out into the cold wearing only my sweatshirt. I think I hear Mom yelling, but I don’t stop. I have to get to Elyon’s house.

  I dash through a maze of interconnected yards and come out on the other side of our block. This street is dark and quiet. I can almost believe that I imagined the trucks back on my street, but I know I didn’t. I cross the street and start making my way through dark yards again. I think about every time Elyon, Matty, and I have done this, dashing through yards to make it across the blocks in less time, pretending our lives depended on it.

  I push my way through a row of bushes and hurry across Elyon’s back yard. I jump up the steps that lead to his back door and pound my fist against it. Inside, the kitchen is dark. I fidget, afraid maybe I’m too late, but then I see Mr. Copra come into the room. He turns on the light and frowns as he walks toward the door.

  “What are you doing here, Nate?” he asks, opening the door. “It’s after nine.”

  “Government soldiers,” I pant. “On my block.”

  “What?” Mr. Copra grabs my arm, pulling me inside and closing the door. “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “Ren? What’s going on?” Mrs. Copra is at the kitchen doorway, Elyon at her side.

  “Nate, what are you doing here?” Elyon asks.

  “There are government soldiers on his street,” Mr. Copra says, moving to his wife and son. “Liesl, grab the emergency bags. We need to run.”

  As she turns, there’s another knock on the door behind me. When I turn, I see Matty standing outside the back door. I can’t help but grin a little as I open the door.

  “Soldiers,” Matty says, pushing his way in. “All over town.”

  Elyon is still standing in the doorway looking stunned. Mr. Copra is digging through the big junk drawer in the corner of the kitchen. I watch in surprise as he pulls wads of money from various old cans of nails and batteries. He walks toward Elyon, who takes two big rolls of cash.

  “Nate already warned us.” Mr. Copra pushes the money into Elyon’s hands. “You boys need to leave.” He pulls Elyon towards us before leaning over the counter and grabbing two more wads of cash. He hands them to Matty and me. “Get to Havenwood.”

  “What? Why?” I ask as Mr. Copra pushes us toward the door.

  “There are people there who will help you. Go into the basement and someone will find you.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without you.” I can hear the panic in Elyon’s ris
ing voice.

  “Yes, you are.” Mr. Copra hugs Elyon just as Mrs. Copra comes back into the room. “We’ll be right behind you.”

  “We just need to grab a couple things,” Mrs. Copra adds, hugging Elyon as well. “Go.”

  Before we can object, we’re on the small back porch. “Come on,” Matty grabs Elyon, pulling him down the stairs. We run across the yard. We’re almost across the next yard when I glance back at the house. Dark shapes are surrounding it, but they don’t notice us.

  We race through town, keeping to the dark where we can and walking tensely through the well lit areas so as not to draw attention to ourselves. We all know where Havenwood is, but as we climb the slight rise towards it, I wonder if we’re doing the right thing. The building started out as a fancy hotel, but when that failed it was turned into a mental institution in the forties. It’s never been anything as far back as I can remember. It stands on a rise just outside of town, empty aside from the kids who sometimes sneak in despite, or maybe because of, the rumors that it’s haunted.

  “I’ve never been in here,” Matty says quietly as we circle around to the back of the building.

  “Me either,” Elyon says. I shake my head; I’ve never dared enter it either.

  We’ve peered in the windows though, and been near it enough times to know that there is a set of sloped basement doors behind the building. We approach them warily and I’m sure the other two are just as scared as I am.

  “Should we wait for my parents?” Elyon asks.

  “I don’t think so.” I reach down and grip the handle of the door. “They said to get inside.”

  “They’re not going to make it, are they?” Elyon’s face is like white stone in the dark and I wish I could reassure him. Anyone who thinks robots are any less human than us should see his face right now. I’m staring silently at him, unsure what to say. He looks down. “I saw the men back at the house when you did.”