the Story Shop

  The next morning it was gone. Thank God. I had a quick breakfast, got dressed and headed out to go to work. Who should be standing at the end of my driveway but that annoying fellow from up the street.

  "Good morning," he said.

  I looked at him carefully. Although he was wearing a baseball cap, he looked very much like that robot. He was about to walk past, when I called him.

  "I had a robot," I said. "Well, let me restate. I was delivered a robot, yesterday, that looked very much like you."

  "Oh, yes," he said. "I work at Global Robotics and some of the latest models have features similar to employees. What model robot did you buy?"

  "I have no idea," I said.

  "Was it ML-101?" he asked.

  "Yes, ML-101, that's it."

  "Ah, then it would look like me," he said. "There were only two such models built, all having the very latest artificial intelligence, and they both had my facial features and voice characteristics. I'm sure you'll enjoy it. It's a wonderful android. All of our models have IDs that begin at 100. Your ML-101 is clearly the second such android."

  Then the guy began walking up the street. I was about to say that the robot was gone, but it didn't matter. I was rid of the ugly machine.

  Chapter Three

  It was early the following morning when there was a knock on my back door. I looked out and that bloody robot was there, grinning. When I opened to door to ask it to leave, it just walked right into my kitchen.

  "I will prepare breakfast," it said. "Would you like bacon and eggs or waffles or…"

  "Where were you all night," I asked. "You disappeared and I phoned to ask that you be taken back."

  "Yes, Miss Lauer," it said. "I did receive that communication, but giveaways are not returnable, I'm afraid. Now, for breakfast I suggest waffles with churned butter…"

  "Damn you!" I shouted. "I don't want a walking machine in my house."

  "I am so sorry, Miss Lauer. I will stay outdoors if I am not wanted."

  With that, this robot thing left and stood motionless on the back porch.

  By nightfall it began to rain. My back porch wasn't exactly waterproof and the robot would get soaked if he stood there all night–so I let him in.

  "Okay, robot, you might as well stay here, in the kitchen," I grunted. "At least it's dry."

  "I am impressed by your generosity, Miss Lauer. If you don't mind, would you call me Michael?"

  The damn thing was smiling like I did him a huge favor.

  "May I sit?" it asked.

  "Yeah, sure. Sit…Michael."

  Then I went to my bedroom, changed into my nightgown, brushed my teeth, tuned off the night lamp and collapsed on the bed. It was almost 4 am when I heard the rustling sound. I turned on the light and saw Michael standing by the door.

  "What the hell are you doing here?" I shouted.

  "I'm so sorry, Miss Lauer," it said, "but I received an audio transmission that there were burglars in this area. It is in my programming that I should guard against any improper intrusions into the life of my wards."

  I collapsed back onto the bed. If the robot wanted to stand there all night, so be it.

  By morning it was gone. When I went for breakfast, it was there with orange juice, hot perked coffee, waffles with churned butter and maple syrup. That was actually rather nice. Normally I'd just have instant coffee and toast. I sat at the table and began eating.

  "Do you eat, Michael," I asked. "Or do you just need oiling?"

  Michael laughed, a very pleasant laugh I must say.

  "Oh, Miss Lauer, I am impressed by your sense of humor. I am human in almost all respects," he said. "If you like, I can remove my clothing and you can inspect the merchandise, so to speak." Michael giggled. He was kind of cute.

  I was sorely tempted to take him up on his offer, but said, "No, that won't be necessary, Michael." I paused then added, "I can’t eat all these waffles, so why don't you join me?"

  Michael dropped into the chair beside me and nibbled on a waffle, always looking at me out of the corner of his eye. "You are very beautiful," he said. "Particularly your hair. I just love it the way it fluffs up, wavy and casual. And you don't wear much makeup, which is very appealing. I always felt that women wear much too much in the way of lipstick and blush. Your natural beauty is sufficient to make men … oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get personal. Please excuse me."

  "No, that's quite alright, Michael," I said. In fact, I was almost embarrassed by his comments. No one has said such nice things about me for quite some time and I liked it. "Will you be making dinner, too," I asked. "I'll be home from work at about five."

  "Yes, Miss Lauer. What would you like? I can do some shopping if I don't find the necessary ingredients…"

  "No, everything is in the fridge or the freezer. I'd like…uh, let's say Fettuccine Alfredo. Can you do that?"

  "Why, of course Miss Lauer."

  "Please call me Heidi."

  "Yes… Heidi." His smile was adorable…and his Alfredo was excellent.

  Chapter Four

  It took a few days, but I was getting accustomed to having Michael around. He was so helpful and sweet, so accommodating to my every wish, so human…and he was quite handsome. At night, he even slept on the couch. I was under the impression that robots didn't sleep. When I mentioned that to him, he again suggested I look at him, naked, to see that he was quite human.

  One day, as though to underscore the fact that he was very human, he asked if he could take a shower. I agreed, of course, and put out bath towels for his use, whenever he wanted to shower.

  I could hear the water running in the afternoon. Michael had trimmed the hedges, pruned the roses and mowed the lawn. Then he went to the bathroom for a shower. He had left the door open and I just happened to walk by and saw that he had also left the shower curtain open. I quickly walked to my bedroom, but decided that Michael might want a facecloth, so I grabbed one from the closet and went back to the bathroom. I put the facecloth on the counter, next to his bath towel. Michael was facing the wall and the water was running over his head and down his back. He was quite tanned with lots of muscle except for a very white butt. That was really very human, I thought. I moved the facecloth to the towel rack, then thought better of it and moved it back to the counter, next to his towel. He was still facing the wall so I went to pull the shower curtains closed, but thought better of it and left them open. If Michael wanted them open, then so be it.

  Just then he turned about and saw me staring. He smiled.

  "I was towel…uh, cloth putting…just in case you needed a face…" I stuttered.

  "That is so kind of you," he said, stepping out of the shower stall. "Would you pass me the bath towel. I really don't want to wet your floor."

  He wasn't embarrassed in the slightest. I tried to hand him the towel, but it slipped and fell and I went to my knees to pick it up. I looked up at Michael and realized that he was very human…and very, very male. I passed him the towel and watched as he dried himself. I was still kneeling on the floor, mesmerized.

  When I came to my senses I ran from the bathroom to my bedroom and closed the door. I couldn't believe it, but I was shaking like a leaf. I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I had just sat there, on the floor, and watched this naked man–this naked robot dry himself. When he came to drying his private parts, I fled. What kind of behavior is that? I was embarrassed and didn't know how I could face him at dinner. However, at dinner, it was as though nothing had happened. We ate his preparation–I can't even remember what it was–and he talked of how the roses were losing some petals and they needed special fertilizer that he would purchase the next day.

  That evening we listened to music while we both read. It was almost midnight when I put down my book and said I was going to bed. Michael looked up from his book and smiled, a beautiful but lonely smile. Suddenly I felt guilty that he slept on the sofa, but I never expected what came out of my mouth.

  "Would you like…uh, the so
fa is so uncomfortable…I have a king size bed. I don't now why I bought king size, but there's room for two."

  Did I actually say that? Was I inviting him to my bed? Oh God, I hope he refuses.

  "Why Heidi, that is so very kind of you. I don't mind the sofa at all, but I would be pleased to join you at bedtime. I am so impressed by your generosity."

  And Michael put his book on the coffee table and followed me to my bedroom. I was about to undress, then decided that it needed to be dark, so I put out the light on the bedside table. When I was slipping into my nightgown, the light on the other night table came on. Michael was standing by the bed, naked.

  "I hope you don't mind," he said. "I don't have night clothes. Besides, I usually sleep without clothes."

  The light seemed to emphasize his…uh, muscles. I was shaking when I pulled the covers over me. I hardly slept a wink. I did, however, hear Michael breathing softly. By next morning I was alone and I could smell the coffee. I pulled on a robe and went to the kitchen where Michael was also in a terry cloth robe, one that I often used when lolling about at the public pool. Breakfast, and Michael, looked delicious. He turned and smiled. Such a pleasant smile.

  Chapter Five

  When I was a young girl all the boys made fun of me. I wore braces on my teeth, I was so much shorter and skinnier than the other girls, my hair was always straggly and my face was covered with pimples. When I was a teenager, I realized that my father was a brute, an animal. He treated my mother poorly, drank too much and spent too much money betting the horses. When I went to college, I was now quite pretty, filled out, confident…and I realized that all the guys wanted was to get me into bed. My one and only boyfriend dumped me for a floozy when I was twenty. Now, holding down a good job in advertising where the guys in the office make rude and indelicate remarks, I've come to hate men.

  But Michael was different. He was kind and considerate and always a gentleman. He was even a reasonably good cook and very handsome. I often forgot that he was mechanical, a synthetic human. If he were only human, I mean a real human, then who knows?

  It was a sunny weekend in May when that jerk from down the road came by, the one who looked like my robot, Michael. He stopped at the end of the driveway and waved. The resemblance was quite remarkable.

  "Hello Miss Lauer," he said.

  How the hell did he know my name? I tried to ignore him, but he walked up the driveway and held out his hand.

  "My name is Michael Landry and I'm your neighbor. We met last year if you recall."

  He smiled, just like Michael smiled. It was quite unsettling. I would have liked to introduce him to Michael, his clone, but my Michael was out shopping. I turned to go back in the house. He followed me.

  "I wonder," he said, "if I might have a word with you. It'll only take a minute."

  What could I do. I was hoping that my Michael would return from shopping in time to meet this look-alike. I invited him to sit on the living room sofa and offered him a cold beer.

  "A beer? I am impressed by your generosity, Miss Lauer."

  Jesus! This guy sounded just like my robot! I looked out the window to see if my Michael was returning.

  "No," this fellow said, "your robot will not be coming back. In fact, I asked to have a word with you… uh, to tell you something rather embarrassing. I must explain something about that giveaway robot called Michael and why it was so much like me."

  Chapter Six

  That is almost the end of my story. No, I did not play the part of a robot. ML-101 was an actual product of Global Robotics, designed by me from head to toe and based entirely upon my characteristics. The ML, as you might have guessed, were taken from my name: Michael Landry. Model ML-100 was defective in that it couldn't cook and wouldn't learn, but ML-101 was so much like me that I was certain that, if Heidi would only acquire affection for the robot, then she'd have affection for me as well.

  When I explained all this to Heidi, she was initially angry and kicked me out of her house. However, over the next few days we saw each other often, as I jogged past her house. Then, one day, she invited me in. Then she asked if I could cook Fettuccine Alfredo…and I did. It was something I learned by googling Earthnet. I had, after all, downloaded the memory of ML-101 and knew in advance what Heidi liked.

  It was clear that Heidi had become very attached to Michael the robot and seemed to need the very similar companionship that I provided. Needless to say, I am now happily married to that lady. And Michael the robot? I saw to it that it was recycled. When I told that to Heidi she gave me a big hug and said, "That's okay. I have my Michael."

  Almera sat alone in her tower. Every day she sat and sewed and pulled the strands of silk among the threads of her robes. She was lonely, she was dispirited, she was annoyed. The story told of a beautiful princess and a handsome prince who would come to her as a frog, asking to be kissed whereupon the frog would rise up and embrace the beautiful princess. She was certain that she was that beautiful princess, yet high in her tower there were no frogs. Each day she would lean out from the window and gaze at the moat which surrounded the tower. Each day she would see frog splashing in the waters of the moat. That was surely her prince.

  The spell had been cast when Almera was a very young girl. The witch had said it loud and clear:

  Thou shalt be locked in a tower until a frog lays a kiss upon thy cheek. Then you and the frog shall be one, betrothed, happy in thy mutual affection. But thou must never leave the tower, for the spell will surely be broken.

  Almera waited and waited and the days became nights and the nights became days and still the frog did not come. Yet she could see the frog in the moat. A single frog, alone as she was alone, saddened by their separation, desolate and annoyed as she was. He sang to her each evening, his garbled and throaty voice rising to her tower.

  Then Almera made a decision. She would descend to the moat. She would gather the frog in her arms and she would speak to it, softly, words of love, words of devotion, words of passion. The evening came slowly, yet Almera waited until the frog's throaty song began, then she descended swiftly to the ground, ran out through the massive castle doors and sat on the grass by the moat. The frog, sensing her presence, came without delay, filling the night with his song. He hopped upon her knee and she bent to him and the frog placed a kiss upon her cheek...and she held her breath and closed her eyes. She could feel the thrill of change, the transformation, the promise of love forever.

  When Almera opened her eyes, she was a frog.

  Hagatha lived in an old house at the edge of town, on the top of a hill covered in dead trees. Now, she stood before the mirror as she did yesterday and the day before that. Indeed, as she had done every day for many years.

  "Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?"

  The dark image in the mirror was sleeping. Hagatha screamed:

  "Wake up you degenerate warlock, you evil demon, you useless shaman!"

  The image in the mirror slowly raised its head, opened it eyes and whispered in a tired voice:

  "It sure ain't you." Then it fell asleep once more.

  Hagatha tore the mirror from the wall and threw it to the floor where it mutated to shards of glass then vanished in a puff of smoke. That, however, was not the end of the mirror. She would simply generate another the following day...as she had done every day for many years.

  Now Hagatha was, by all accounts, a very ugly witch, yet she had asked daily for a confirmation of loveliness that was not there. She knew the answer to her question. The fairest of them all, according to CNN, was Glow Bright, the doll princess from the Land of Joz. Glow Bright's face had been on TV almost every day, attending ball games, dances, community parties. She was followed by paparazzi and would-be lovers, small children and small animals. She was disgustingly beautiful, her golden locks blowing in the breeze even when a breeze was not present, her cheeks blushed with the colour of the rising sun even after sunset, her pervading fragrance, her puppy-dog eyes.

/>   Glow Bright was interviewed on the evening news. She said she knew, as a child, that she was more beautiful than others in the Land of Joz and now knew she was the fairest of them all. Women should envy her, men should covet her, children should mimic her and large companies should demand her services and provide large financial enticements.

  Hagatha had had enough of Glow Bright. Now her beauty must end.

  Hagatha went to her garden where grew a single tree, as twisted and ugly as the witch herself. She plucked from the tree its single fruit: a papaya, as green as evil, a garish green, wrinkled, shrivelled, ugly–and poisonous. Glow Bright will eat the poisonous fruit and her beauty will be gone. Then Hagatha will once again appeal to the mirror.

  As it happened, Glow Bright had been invited to attend the opening of a new hamburger store, one of a thousand in the chain of McBollock stores that stretched from sea to sea. The ritual was typical: the beautiful young woman would be asked to sample the product, she would smile sweetly and announce that it was the best she had ever tasted. There would be great applause and her image would fill the papers and the sides of buses and billboards across this great nation and the Glow Bright song would be on every radio station:

  Glow Bright, Glow Bright,

  Your beauty gives us much delight.

  Hamburger, clothes and sparkling Sprite

  Soap that yields an ivory white,

  We use your products day and night.

  Hagatha coiled her bony fingers about the green papaya and chuckled with glee. The beautiful Glow Bright would taste the poisoned fruit. She slept well that night, the first sound sleep she had had in months. Tomorrow all her wishes would be fulfilled, all her dreams would come true. She, Hagatha, would be praised by her mirror as the fairest in the Land.