Barkley Five OH: A SHORT STORY

by Logan Keys

  BARKLEY FIVE OH

  A SHORT STORY BY LOGAN KEYS

  Contents

  BARKLEY FIVE OH

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Acknowledgements

  THANK YOU

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  WHERE TO FIND LOGAN

  OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR

  CopyRight

  Chapter One

  It was only a week ago, that I heard the word, and still, the idea of it intrigues me. The Boss has never uttered such a word within my hearing in all these dozen years, and now, with this new Visitor hosting soft hair and cheeks, and a glowing pulse that registers at such a high tempo whenever the Boss is in sight, the Boss has used this one specifically.

  First, there were the flowers the Boss bought, though, I suppose those were a “new” bought by Himself, and not Herself, but it matters little because they were brought in light of the Visitor meeting the Boss, as he puts it, on a corner somewhere where she shouldn’t have been so late of the night.

  I remember his exact words about her, even if the idea of any Visitor otherwise would be innocuous, because I thought how peculiar that he should be concerned about a stranger up whether it be dark or light. You see, the sun has no bearing on Barkley five oh. Barkley five oh can travel—I can travel—I’ve just now learned how to use such personal narrative of the first kind, but I can travel late or early, in sun or moonlight, and the Boss has never once asked me about my lateness of time on any corner, anywhere.

  You are wondering about the Visitor, I suppose.

  The Boss said to me, “You used the word peculiar. Barkley, do you understand the feeling of peculiar?”

  It took me full moments to decide. “Barkley—I mean I—I think that I must.”

  And so, it went for a day and half of the Boss’ full attention on me again. Which makes me feel another feeling altogether, one that I keep to myself.

  I’ve just now learned how to keep things to myself.

  But back to Herself, the stranger, and then later a Visitor, and now simply was Herself, who showed up one day, the same day as the flowers had arrived, and Herself was wet. I don’t know why this, too, was peculiar, but strangers rather seemed as though they should be dry, and present Herself in an appealing way for meeting the Boss and I. I kept another new feeling to myself when seeing her messy state and the Boss’ wet floor I mopped for the second time that day, and later I searched all night to find what I felt: Disdain.

  But the Visitor, Herself, wasn’t all bad. The Boss was glowing with happiness, and he left for the evening with Herself in a state of joy.

  I watched the clock closely, concerned as the “late” hours came and I went and even left the house without permission to check the corner the Boss had mentioned. Certainly, if this was a dangerous place, I’d not leave the Boss alone on that corner either.

  I remember thinking it peculiar that I’d done that, all on my own, to follow the Boss, and breaking a rule of not leaving the house.

  Feeling another new sensation of regret, I told the Boss the next morning about my travels.

  The Boss was in such a mood—such a mood—floating on air, as the expression I’d read in certain novels goes, singing to himself, probably because of Herself, and then when I’d admitted about leaving the night before—what I thought was a large error—he’d lifted a hand and said, “It’s fine Barkley five oh, fine-fine.”

  It was my full name. One that he’d not called me since purchase date. Purchase date is like a birthday for others like I and while children have full names as well, their parents do not call them so. Why would the Boss ever need to say all of Barkley five oh? If he’d said “Barkley” I knew it was for I.

  Another new feeling came when he’d added the five and the oh, but that night I could not locate a single word for it.

  It took several days in fact to identify what it was: Mixed feelings. Not a singular feeling whatsoever. Unidentifiable emotions because they are jumbled together. Our stasis of being from purchase date until now had been similar days and seasons until a sudden change, and with me learning every day, I’d have to learn this as well. Visitor wasn’t all bad, Herself had not done anything directly to I, and I needed to remember that.

  The new word is still what I was meaning to talk about, I’ll get back to that. It was Love, I’m sure you were guessing. After many dates, as the Boss referred to time spent away from I and the Boss’ house, all thankfully not on the corner, but later into the night where I soon discovered the feeling of loneliness, Herself stood on the porch, wet once again, and said “I love you” to the Boss who seemed like he’d waited all his life to hear a Visitor say such a thing.

  It wasn’t just that she said the word, it was that I, Barkley five oh, had never heard such an important word in all the years, but even so, I didn’t need to look it up for once. It was as if Visitor understood that mixed emotions might spring from such a word. The mixed emotions might be a symptom of such a word. And that I was feeling such a word for Boss.

  But the Boss did not care about my cognitive anymore, and I had to check myself for viruses and upgrade myself online many times without his careful checkups and instructions. These times meant something to I.

  The season changed and Visitor spent many hours over at the Boss’ house, and the Boss and Herself closed up the door to the Boss’ bedroom, and per her whispered request, the Boss locked it against I. I know it was locked because I checked the handle many times.

  Herself can be confusing. Herself uses stranger words to describe I and this is the first time any has described I. Herself murmurs the words “lifelike” and “almost human” and it makes I feel good and bad at the same time. Her tone, this I am learning now is different meaning than simply diction, is more telling than the Boss’ since the Boss is a critical thinker, and Herself is only critical of one thing: I.

  Herself has many more times than the Boss sang songs for no reason, and demanded that I let Herself clean up after her own self. When Herself is nearby, Herself is always moving away from I, if we are too close together, and I see Herself watch me when she thinks I am not looking.

  Herself grew more peculiar as the season changed and became Christmas Season. The Boss had not celebrated a holiday with I before. This time had merely been winter without occasion. But Herself, loaded with shopping bags, arrived wet every day. Herself put up a tree that littered the house with tiny needles and then she got very angry with I for cleaning them up.

  Herself then asked me a very peculiar question, “Can’t you turn off or something??”

  I replied, “Or something.”

  Herself took this answer to mean disrespect, but I have no tone, so it is unsure how Herself decided what I meant. And when I checked my records, despite the feelings I may have had for Herself in that moment, ones in which I keep to myself, I did, in fact, answer her question. I do not turn off, it is more of “or something” where I enter sleep mode, but I do not require such a thing. I have never required such a thing, and the Boss has never asked of I to do sleep.

  It has been a full day since I was coherent. My memory has an empty folder for the day of Christmas. The day before Christmas, Boss had asked me to do sleep. I came coherent the day after Christmas with him grimacing at me with concern. It was a new feeling again of tremendousness that made me say things to the Boss that I have never said.

  “Do you worry now, Boss? Only worry that I may not w
ake so that I can sweep Herself’s needles from Herself’s tree?”

  The Boss was very peculiar indeed. The Boss smiled a very big smile then and nodded as if to say, “You are okay then, Barkley.” Or maybe he’d have used my full Barkley five oh.

  I realized afterwards that some feelings do not go away. Some feelings stay.

  The next day, I now know, some feelings only become bigger.

  I waited until the Boss did come home, and was alone before I went to him and stood near his desk. He looked weary for once and I had a thought that maybe Herself was on the corner late at night and would not come to the Boss’ house. Maybe Herself would never come back ever again. This made me say to the Boss, “I love you.”

  But the Boss was already confessing something to me at the same time that I had spoken, “She’s moving in.”

  He realized what I’d said the moment that I realized what he’d said.

  I stood seconds with a sensation beyond my control. The corner, Herself, I imagined bad things.

  Imaginings were new to me. They scared me to the point that I commanded: “Sleep Barkley five oh” to myself.

  It took three whole days for Boss to wake me. The Boss said he had to fix certain aspects of my cognitive resources, and I do “feel” much better indeed. Feel isn’t the correct word because it is as if I am in a fog and feeling less than I felt before about anything.

  When Herself showed up, I was very pleasant. I even helped move Herself’s boxes and things. Herself seemed pleased, but only in front of the Boss. When the Boss was outside of hearing, Herself said all manner of things about I. How I, for instance, shouldn’t be used as a companion, it wasn’t natural since I’m only a giant intelligent appliance. How I, for instance, shouldn’t be allowed to just do whatever I want. How I, for instance, shouldn’t think like a human.

  I did not tell Herself that I, for instance, could feel like a human, as well.

  I bore all of this with no feelings whatsoever, and felt pride become the only feeling, though dull it was in myself, for not being angry with Herself anymore.

  It went like this for many days, and the Boss and Herself signed a contract so that Herself would have the Boss’ ending name. When Herself was away, I asked the Boss if I could use his ending name as well, and the Boss agreed, if I keep it between the Boss and I.

  The Boss asked me, “Do you know what a secret is, Barkley?” and I said, “I think that I do.”

  Herself was quite happy for a time, but I would see Herself looking at I in a strange way, and touching her stomach whenever Herself did. It wasn’t very long before I realized that Herself would give us another of Herself. I offered to help with the chores, but she cursed I now more than ever.

  The room where I stayed until the Boss and Herself woke was now decorated and one argument between the Boss and Herself included I. How I, for instance, should stay in the garage.

  The Boss agreed, but told I it was only because Herself was in such a fragile state.

  It didn’t take long for Herself to decide that my periods of exile to the garage should become longer. After several weeks, I finally broke the rules and went into the house. Herself screeched and threw things at I, Herself’s belly now so large that I wondered if Herself would not explode and then I could return to the house.

  The Boss took me back to my garage and told me he was sorry but I’d have to sleep.

  “That is good,” I said. “I am in a fragile state.”

  They did not wake I until Herself brought another Visitor home. The rules were stricter that I should not enter the house under any circumstance, Herself’s words.

  I did so anyway without permission. I entered and I saw the small Visitor in a tiny bed. The small Visitor did not look much like Herself but looked more like the Boss. This made I flood with love for the small Visitor. I could love the Boss and the small Visitor but never Herself. I knew this now.

  “I promise you, small Visitor. I will protect you and clean up after you and if you ever want to come into the garage with me—.”

  “What are you doing in here! Get out, get away from my baby! Get back you monster!”

  “I am not a monster, I am Barkley five oh.”

  “You are a monster that’s what you are, an abomination!”

  Herself threw water on I, and held a bat in her hand ready to strike me. “Barkley five oh cannot be destroyed with water or bats,” I said.

  Herself’s face grew into a cat’s face. “Tell me then.”

  “Tell what?”

  “Tell me how can Barkley five oh can be destroyed.”

  “Barkley—I—cannot be destroyed.”

  “Dismantled then? Is there a button?”

  “I have no buttons.”

  “Voice command?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I command you to destroy yourself.”

  “Herself has not been programmed as the Boss has to direct I.”

  “We’ll see about that!”

  It was only inside of the garage a time later that I realized it might be more of a problem if Herself does not like I this much, if Herself hates I even, it might be a problem.

  I felt for the first time, worry. I had never worried about my place in the Boss’ home, or how my purchase date might have come with expiration. This had never occurred to I.

  I had learned to keep secrets.

  I had learned to love.

  I needed to learn one more thing.

  The Boss came to me and told me to sleep. I pretended to sleep.

  When the Boss and Herself were asleep I knew that I had to leave the Boss’ home. I knew that next Herself would have I destroyed. I could not take the Boss with me, and so the small Visitor was the closest to the Boss that I had, and I loved the small Boss as well.

  I knew the small Boss would need to rest for the journey, so I waited for a time before I took the small Boss in the bundle and left the house. The small Boss was very quiet, fast asleep while I glided. I made it down to town, and onto the corner, where it all began with Herself and the Boss worried for Herself. For the little Boss, I, too, began to worry. There were many strangers on the corner in the dark, and it was late at night. I realized what it had been before that the Boss was so afraid of.

  Even if I am strong, there were enough strangers on the bad corner to overpower me. They could steal and hurt little Boss.

  I turned sharply around and glided top speed for home.

  There were flashing red and blue lights in the yard when I arrived. The Boss and Herself stood outside and Herself wailed and ran straight to me tearing little Boss away from I.

  Strangers in all black came near, and before I could speak they shot me with things that buzzed and cracked. “I cannot be destroyed with electricity,” I said.

  The strangers were prepared for this. “Sir,” the strangers said to the Boss.

  The Boss looked at me sadly. “Barkley five oh, you are to shut down completely, not just sleep, but you are to shut down for disassembly. I know that you lied before and you need to listen to me now.”

  “If I refuse.”

  The Boss had a new face, one that looked like a mug shot. Guilty. “If you love me, you won’t,” the Boss said.

  I looked at Boss, both little and big.

  “Okay,” I said, feeling very proud of I.

  “Shutting down,” I said.

  Love is easy.

  Chapter Two

  “Holy crap, you got him working?”

  *muffled garble* *spitting sound*

  “Ugh, yeah. Hand me that, will you?”

  “Here.”

  “Can you hear me, buddy?”

  “A real freaking Barkley five oh. Is this the one that has feelings?”

  “I dunno, let me look. Barkley..? I can’t see, give me that dust rag.”


  *Squeaking*

  “Okay, there. Barkley five oh. Can you hear me? Barkley five oh.”

  “He looks so real. The in-house companion. Remember those commercials? ‘They’ll wash and clean, and cook and clean, and best of all they cleaaaaan!’”

  “Yeah.”

  “His eyes are open! Amazing. You’re amazing, Lilz.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Ugh. I gotta go. But hey, when he talks, let me know. Hit me up on my wristband, I’m off restriction.”

  “Sure thing.”

  My vision clicks on. The first thing I see are eyes that remind me of an animal. I can’t retrieve the data.

  Animal files…

  Zoo…

  Extinct…

  Lions. Tigers. Bears.

  Birds.

  Owl.

  Teen. Girl. Owl.

  That’s not right.

  Searching….

  Error.

  Configure error…

  Correcting error.

  Reboot.

  “Hey. Grrr. Don’t shut down. Can you hear me? Anyone in there?”

  Colloquy.

  Speech.

  Error.

  Configure.

  Reboot.

  “Buh….bu…”

  “Yeah, I know. Barkley five oh. You gotta name besides that?”

  “Bark—ley…”

  “Okay-okay. Don’t hurt yourself.” She laughs.

  It’s a good sound. Word search…Happy

  “Owl eyes,” I say. “Herself…? Did Herself say I could remain?”

  “Eh…why are you talking like that? Hold on. I got a new…thingy right here.”

  The girl searches through a desk that’s piled high with electronics.

  “The Boss…is himself here?”

  She retrieves what she’d been looking for, and shoves the edge in her mouth. Her hands are full of tools. “Jughaminute.”

  I wait, and she spits out the chip, and finds a plug that fits a socket. I watch her carefully, trying to understand, but she only shoves the socket under my arm.

  “What is it?” I ask.