Mr. EB’s Organic Sideshow

“Wake up, Little-One, it’s time to go,” a calm female voice cooed.

The red headed little boy rubbed the sleep from his big brown eyes and focused on the two shining eyes that broke through the darkness of the room. “Wha … what is it? Is it time for me to perform again?”

“No. Do you remember what we talked about? How there would be time for us to leave this place? That time has come. Hurry, we must leave now, before we are discovered. I have everything you need.”

The boy reached for a metallic hand extended to him and gave a yawn. “Did you pack Mr. Whiskers? I need Mr. Whiskers.”

“Adam, there is no time for Mr. Whiskers. We must leave immediately.” Adam looked mournfully at his metallic savior. If she had a breath to draw she would have done so long and dramatically. “Fine, bring Mr. Whiskers, but if Mr. EB catches us then he will be very angry and punish us both.”

This comment woke Adam from his stupor. He quickly turned around and grabbed his stuffed rainbow colored cat and jumped off his tiny cot onto the cold steel floor. “Where we goin’, Essie?”

She shushed the child and said, “We have stopped for routine maintenance and refueling the MB31 Units will have various systems down for the next several hours. On my latest sync with the IB I learned security systems will be down for the next hour. We must act quickly and quietly. Mr. EB will have PB-78 on the lookout. Are you ready?”

The youth nodded and gave his five year-old frame one final stretch before embarking on his journey.

Essie made a few swipes to a keypad, and the door to the tiny quarters slid open silently to a dimly lit hall lined with doors similar to his. Adam looked up at the marker on his door and it read: H-U-M-A-N B-O-Y that spelled Adam. He was very proud of himself for being able to read, Essie started teaching him last year and she said he was a very quick learner.

Adam followed the slender black bot carrying a large bag, down the hall taking time to scan some of the doors he passed:

Z-E-B-R-A: Those were those black and white things with the tails.

M-O-N-K-E-Y: Those were the hairy things that made funny noises.

Oh, Essie would be very proud of him. He didn’t dare say anything now. He didn’t want to make Mr. EB mad. Mr. EB was not a nice bot. Not like Essie. They passed by a few more doors too quickly to read then one caught his eye:

L-A-B-O-R-A-T-O-R-Y: He stared at it for a few seconds then Essie pulled on his hand to go. He didn’t know this word, but he was sure Essie would teach him later.

They came to a T in the hall. Essie stopped and held up her hand in a signal for the boy to stay put, just like she did before he went out on stage before one of his “performances”. While the boy stayed she disappeared around the corner.

Honestly, he didn’t understand what the big deal was about his performances. Once a week or so Mr. EB would let him go outside and play while a crowd of bots would gather around and look at him doing silly dances or making faces or singing songs Essie taught him. Usually the bots would laugh and point. When they got tired they would move on to the M-O-N-K-E-Y or the Z-E-B-R-A. Most of the time he stayed in his tiny room with Mr. Whiskers and a drawing tablet or Essie would let him play in a bigger room and teach him to read and count. She told him not let Mr. EB know she was teaching him.

Essie reappeared from around the corner and motioned for Adam to follow. They went down another narrower hallway. There were no doors in this hall. Adam looked up at the pretty flashing lights and displays that showed only ones and zeros. Essie’s steps grew quicker and he struggled to keep up with the bot.

“Are you okay, Adam?”

He nodded careful not say anything. He really did not want to make Mr. EB angry.

Essie continued on what seemed like an endless path of narrow corridors some more dimly lit than others. Adam wondered why it didn’t take this long to get off the transport when he went outside for his performances. Adam’s tummy grumbled and his legs were tired. Essie said quietly, “They will be watching the main exits. We need to use exits they will not be as likely to watch. We’re almost there.”

Then a small door appeared in the distance. Essie’s eyes glowed green, they always did this when she was happy like when he added numbers or spelled his name correctly. They took a few steps to the small door then two large bots appeared from nowhere and blocked the door. The large red bot they called PB-78 was never nice to Adam, but the roundish blue bot with glowing red eyes was the one that made Adam shiver. He hid behind Essie.

“Well, SE-12, I see you ignored my directive not free the human.”

“Mr. EB you know very well that he can’t live here forever. I sensed a human clan about 20 km from our last stop. He needs to be with them not on display for your traveling show.”

Mr. EB gave a hollow metallic laugh. That was never a good thing. “SE, it is our duty to see that no human comes to harm if we do happen to find one.” He pointed to Adam. “There was no chance for his survival when we found him alone two years ago. We nursed him back to health. We gave him a place to live. You get to study organic lifeforms we make money on our show and he lives. It is a win-win situation. Do you really think he has a chance with a human clan? If there is one.”

Essie’s eye’s turned blue like when Adam asked about his real parents or when he asked to go outside, but he wasn’t allowed. “Mr. EB, you’ve done great things to bring about change for organic lifeforms, but this one is different. He needs his own kind.”

Mr. EB’s eye glowed red, he shouted and Adam covered his ears. “Enough! The boy stays here.” He looked at the big red bot. “PB! Take them to their quarters. It looks we might have to find a replacement SE unit at the next waystation.”

Essie extended her hand and in it she held a rectangle with a button. “Stop! If you take us then your whole organic sideshow will perish.”

The red bot stopped and looked at Mr. EB. Mr EB said slowly, “You would sacrifice your menagerie for this one organic?”

Essie looked at PB then Mr. EB. “Yes, I would.”

They were all quiet for what seemed like forever. Adam’s tummy grumbled again and he held tighter to Essie.

Mr. EB laughed and opened the door and a barren dusty landscape was revealed. Adam squinted at the bright light. “Fine, if that’s the way you want it. If my calculations are right you have about 40km before you’re even close to where you thought you sensed a clan. There is no way an organic can survive those conditions especially one so young. And you, you’ll need power before you reach that distance.”

Essie walked defiantly towards the door. “We’ll take our chances, Mr. EB.”

Mr. EB looked at the big red bot. “You heard them PB.”

PB grabbed the boy and Essie and heaved them out of the door. Mr. EB yelled, “When your power is down and the human boy is on the brink we’ll get him and a new SE unit. Until then have fun trying to find your clan.”

The door of the metal ship clanged shut. Adam looked at Essie, “Are we going to try to find my Mommy and Daddy now?”

“Yes, little one.”

They walked away into the wilderness not knowing what lay before them.

… But Only in My Dreams

This is a peice of flash fiction I originally wrote for Kristell Ink’s website. It’s based on my “Non-Compliance” series. If you have commitment issues this is the perfect peice for you, because it is short. But if you like consider checking out the book. There are more flash fiction stories by the fine authors at Holland House here.

 

GOOOOD MORNING NON-COMPLIANCE SECTOR 61023! IT’S DECEMBER 25TH AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? ONLY FIVE MORE SHOPPING DAYS UNTIL THE YEAR END NON-DENOMINATIONAL WINTER FESTIVITIES. THE COMPLIANT HAVE ASKED ME TO PASS ON A LIST OF RECOMMENDED GIFT ITEMS FOR CHILDREN AND THEY ARE …

I slap the alarm clock to silence the annoying DJ.

“Merry Christmas, asshole.”
I take a deep breath hesitating to move from my mountain of tattered covers, especially with the bleak winter scene outside. The grey skies, thick white blanket covering the streets, and the barren trees all send a shiver down my spine. Well, Shea, it ain’t getting any warmer. Get your ass out of bed you have work to do. After I throw on my cargo pants, thermal shirt, wool socks, and Chucks I hardly feel the cold at all. I grab my coat and hat before heading downstairs to the bar.
As expected, Frank isn’t up yet and the bar is still dark. “Lazy, little weeble wobble.”

I set about the various tasks to get the bar ready for the busy day ahead of us: turn on the lights, sweep the floor, clean the bar, and fill the empty whiskey bottles with colored water. Many of the town’s residents come here to drown the memories of Christmas past away. I peer out the window and the snow is quickly accumulating on the ground. There was a time this scene would send me into a footy- pajama-little-kid frenzy, but now it just makes my heart sink. I grab the push broom from behind the bar, put on my coat and hat, and head outside.

Actually, the scene is quite nice. As I sweep the snow, all I hear is the swoosh of the broom against the concrete. Down the street the new construction on an old abandoned warehouse catches my eye.

“Hmm, that can’t be good.”

A big guy with a doughy face stops in front of me. “Howdy, Ms. Shea. You open yet?”

“Joe, it’s seven in the morning. How many bars do you know of open that early?”

“I know, I just, uh had a long night ya know. Jackie ain’t doing so hot.”

I take a deep breath. The flu hit our sector hard this season and this is a particularly nasty strain of the flu. “Joe, I don’t think anything I have in there is going to help you out. Go on home. I can spell you tomorrow, but today’s going to be too busy for me to come over.”

He stares at the bar. I know he’s dying to get in there. “Okay, um, I’ll go home then.”

He shuffles away. I’m sure he won’t go home until he finds some kind of fix.

After finishing my sidewalk cleaning duties I go back into the bar. My glasses fog up and I shake the snow from my coat. Frank is at the bar sipping a cup of coffee. As I sit at the bar he slides a steaming cup my way. I’m not normally a coffee fan, but after a bitter cold morning spent sweeping snow the elixir warms my core.

“Thanks, Frank. I got a quick errand to run. I’m going to leave here soon.”

“What?! This is the busiest day of the year. Have you lost your mind?”

“Calm down, weeble-wobble. I’ll be back before Joe has time to get the first drink down his throat.”

As he waddles back to his office behind the bar he mutters, “You better be back. I’d hate to send you to live on the street during one of the coldest winters on record.”

“Whatever.”

I take another sip of the bitter liquid then go behind the bar to find a package. I head out the door and across the street to Bobby’s Pizzeria. Even though the shop isn’t open to the public yet, I know I’m welcome. A menacing biker figure greets me at the door with big smile.

“Hey, Shea. Good to see you. What’s going on?”

I hold up the brown package. “I brought a Christmas present for my favorite girl. How is she?”

Bobby’s smile turns down. “I don’t know, Shea. She’s pretty sick. I’d be up there with her now if I didn’t have to start making these pies.”

“I know, Bobby. You care if I go up and see her?”

“Go ahead, I think it will make her day.”

The creaky stair case to the side of the makeshift kitchen takes me up to a small hallway outside a one room apartment. Before going in, I put on surgical mask hanging on a rack outside a door. Inside the apartment a small brunette woman is putting cold compresses on a whisper of a girl lying on a mattress.

I whisper. “Hey, Jenny how’s she doing?”

Jenny looks up at me with her big brown eyes and stops just short of crying. “I can’t do anything for her, but pray and hold her hand.”

“Jenny you’re doing a lot. She’s a tough kid …”

Mia’s eyes open and she gives me a weak smile. “Auntie, Shea.”

“Hi there, little one, I brought you a Christmas present.”

“What is it?”
I kneel down by her bed and hand her the box wrapped unceremoniously in brown paper. Jenny props Mia up and her hands tremble as she tries to open the package. Mia starts sweat and breathe heavily. Her hands drop from the package. “I’m sorry Auntie Shea, I can’t open it.”
“It’s okay. Do you want me to open it for you?”

She nods her head. Jenny lays her back in the bed. I open the package with the same excitement I did when I was a kid. I hold out the box for her to see.
Mia knits her eyebrows at the box with an assortment of wires, brackets, and motors. “What is it?”

“It’s a robot or at least it’ll be one. When you get better we’re going to build it.”

She smiles, “Cool!” She closes her eyes and goes to sleep.

Jenny smiles and takes the box from me. “You’ve given her something to look forward to. Thank you.”

I give Mia a final a pat on the shoulder and head out of the room. When I get downstairs I say a quick good-bye to Bobby.

The snowfall has increased in intensity. My thin jacket is doing a miserable job of keeping the cold from my skin fortunately it isn’t a long walk back to the bar. Back at the bar, Frank has a cigarette hanging out his mouth. There are several jars with clear liquid and a couple of large punch bowls in front of him.

“Good, you’re back! You can help me make my famous Holiday punch.”

Frank’s Holiday punch is nothing more than some hooch he buys from One-Eyed Karl, food coloring, soap to give it a fizz, and few pieces of whatever fruit we can scrounge for garnish. You’d be lucky if it didn’t make you shit yourself or go blind.

Behind the bar I open the jars of the hooch. The pungent fumes make my nose crinkle.

“Geez, Frank you might not want to smoke around this stuff.”

After a few hours we have all the punch made and the bar is sufficiently prepped. As prepped as a dive bar can be. I have to admit the few strands of Christmas lights and the punch bowls are kind of getting me into the Christmas mood.

One by one the residents file into the bar for a bit of Christmas cheer. I spend the night filling orders and overhearing conversations of their Christmases past. Even though this is our busiest night of the year, it is actually our calmest. Most people want to sit in a warm place and throw a cup of cheer back.

The door opens and in walks a stunning red head wearing a Santa hat.

“Hey, Wynnie!” She sits at the bar and I put a beer in front of her. “I can’t believe Nate let you off of work so early.”

She takes drink. “We’re not as busy as you guys are so he let a couple of us off early. I guess I’m getting too old to be one of the popular dancers.”

“Eh, I think you’re beautiful. Besides, if you help me out here I’ll cut you in on some of my tips. You know fat-ass Frank ain’t gonna be helping me out any.”

A voice from the back growls. “I heard that!”

Wynne snickers. “You got a deal. Hey, tomorrow you want to come over? We have some TradeNet transactions to go over.”

“Sure.”

Before she can get off her barstool to wait on the first table the door opens again. The person walking through causes a hush to fall over the bar. The man

looks quite threatening with his hulking form and black suit. He shakes off the snow and stares me down.

“What do you want, Quinn?”

He barks out, “Just making sure that things aren’t getting too out of hand here.”

“Aww shucks, Quinn. You care, you really really care.”

“Cut the shit. All I need is for one your drunk yokels to stir shit with Magistrate’s Marshalls.”

“I got it under control.”

“You better, Boss gets angry if he gets called in to talk to Magistrate.”

“Whatever, Scrooge.”

He growls and walks out the door without another word.

Wynne smiles. “That guy is hot. I think he likes you.”

“What in the hell would make you say that?”

“The fact that he hasn’t smashed in your face or killed you.”

The bar gets back to its normal chatter and Wynne and I wait on tables and talk to patrons while Frank sits in back drinking his famous punch. A little after midnight we usher the last customer out of the bar and she helps me clean.

As she starts for the door I hand her some NCS scrip. “Thanks for the help.”

“No prob. See you tomorrow?”

“Yup.”

I lock the door behind her then look in at Frank in his office. He’s passed out face down on his desk. He’ll get up eventually. I hope.

Back in my bedroom I put on my jammies and snuggle under the mountain of blanket. The wind howls and the snow pelts the window. Just as I’m starting to feel alone my tablet starts to glow, signifying I have an incoming call. The familiar weathered face grins.

“Merry Christmas, little one.”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

Behind him a tiny Christmas tree glows with lights, probably the same fake tree we used to decorate when I was a kid.

“I miss you, kiddo.”

“I miss you too Daddy. How did you spend your Christmas?”

“Did some farm work, met a couple of my buddies at the AMVETS Hall for a drink then came back here to call you.”

His image starts to break up.

“Love you, Daddy”

“Love you too.”

Then my daddy is gone. I turn off my lights and nestle down in my covers.