The Son
The Son
By Douglas S. Brown
The son arrived much as she had, perfect. He didn’t know how “they” did it nor did he know who “they” were but if there was a god, or something god-like, he wouldn’t mind it being “they”.
The first meeting he had selected “Month One” and had gotten to hear her coo him and calm him and feed him and change him and bathe him. He had lain in his bed and let the sounds wash over him until all three were asleep, the stirrings and midnight feedings half heard, dreamlike.
He stayed with that selection until he heard her say “Dad needs to learn how to change you”. Then he selected “Month Five”. What a difference! His son slept longer yet he was more energetic and he could even feel a bit of himself in him – the impatience, the demanding and then easily soothed.
And he and she could have sex again! There was something special when he could hear her put him in the next room, his quietly buzzing breath diminishing and then she would be “next” to him, her breath increasing and reassuring him that it was okay. She needed it, too. And they would sleep afterwards until his son needed to be fed. And then maybe do it again at dawn with the whisperings of light playing at the corners of the room.
The only interruption to his blissful new family was when he accidentally selected backwards. A tech had to come out and re-program. The techs weren’t supposed to talk but this one did.
“I can make this one a bit more, you know,” he had said with a crooked smile. But he had told him everything was fine actually- perfect he had said. Because it was. He knew the tech wasn’t “them” but just an employee keeping the system going. And it had given him an hour or two to get away, like any parent would. To take a walk and look at the neighborhood. He saw several men and they all exchanged knowing nods. He had chosen this neighborhood for that reason. All men, all happy, he assumed, with families made to perfection. Not as good as his, but maybe close. The women. Their neighborhood. You had to see it to believe it. As far from perfection as the moon from the earth.
And when he came back and selected “Month Eight”, his family was back. They “ate” together and laughed and the room was hazy with love.
At work sometimes he would think of how they had “met”. It was accidentally perfect. He had been on line, she as well, and if two people could select the same lottery ticket at the same time- well, it was like that. Not lightning but a true knowing and understanding. And even the first few fights, once when he couldn’t reach her, another when he thought she called him by another name, those only strengthened it and made the passion afterwards better. Passion always resolved it.
His best friend, who lived in the Women’s Neighborhood, told him to watch out.
“They only know what you know, you feel, that’s all,” he had said. “I can touch and feel and smell my woman.”
“That’s all! What does any man want but that!” he had thought.
“Let me just see where it goes.” So he had moved into the Men’s Neighborhood and, of course, it was perfection. He had noticed his best friend looking older, more wrinkles, less sleep and more calls. Those calls could come at any time and take him away from his work. Whereas, she would only call during an emergency and those were few and she always handled them!
After three years, he wasn’t sure what made him do it- but he selected “Major Upset?” He had heard about what other people had gone through but all he really thought was what kind of passion could result on the other side of this selection. Perfection needed some challenges if only to be more perfect.
He heard her packing up. She wouldn’t talk. She only said-“Talk to me when you can be honest.”
He said-“You are taking my son!”
She said, laughing scornfully-“Who is going to take care of him? You?” She had never been mean to him but it was intriguing, somewhat exciting.
He tried-“Is there someone else?”
She said-“You tell me.” Then his son cried and he got worried. Really worried. He had forgotten about his son! How could he do that? He looked at the selector but it was locked in position. And it was glowing red, something it had never done before. He would call the tech. No, they needed to get through this. This was “growing” somehow. He had read about this in the CYU Manual.
A door slammed sounded and then a transport noise. Then it was quiet. For days and worst of all, nights. He couldn’t sleep. When he took walks he started to be suspicious about his men neighbors. Was it one of them? His work deteriorated. Finally, his best friend invited him to dinner. He accepted knowing he would just be lonely at home.
They transported to the Women’s Neighborhood. It was alive and noisy with dogs and kids and bikes and balls in the air and the smells of cooking and music. It was overwhelming for him. He stood back and his friend had to come take him by the arm.
“It will be okay. You’ll see.” So he went. He even drank a beer and then another.
His friend’s wife looked at him. “They got you hooked up, huh?” At first he didn’t understand but then to be nice, he nodded. “Did she leave you?” she asked while flipping burgers on the grill. His friend came and took him away.
“I was just asking,” she said to the grill.
They walked to the backyard and sat down on a tattered covered swinging outdoor lounger.
“You want to talk?” his friend asked.
“We are just going through what everybody goes through, I guess.”
“Sure. Sure. Do you think she will come back?”
“I don’t know, but I really miss my son, mostly.”
“You have a son too?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you? Yes, his name is Oliver. He is three years old.”
“No, I just knew about-her.” Just then a ball landed in the swimming pool and a very young chubby girl in a bathing suit that was halfway peeled down came and stood by him while his friend got the ball out with the cleaning sweep. She stared at him.
“Do you have any kids?” she asked.
“Yes, yes, I have a son.”
“Where is he? Bring him here so we can play with him!” She got the ball and ran off.
“They are a lot of work,” his friend said.
He nodded.
“The Women’s Neighborhood is different than what I thought it would be,” he told his friend.
“The Women’s Neighborhood! Is that what they call it? Well, I guess the women do run the show but we men pitch in there, too.” They stayed silent for bit. His friend’s wife brought them hamburgers and chips and another beer.
“Hey, I’m not trying to butt in here, it is a new world in many ways since the A.I. super advances, but I heard that once they get you with a kid or kids you are hooked for life. As in life-mortgaged to them. And because they know you inside and out it seems better than this.” He waved his arm at the backyard full of toys, some broken, a plastic dog house with two babies in diapers playing inside and various items of clothes laying everywhere.
“Well, I guess divorce can happen anywhere, right?”
His friend looked at him frowning. “Yes, divorce can happen in the real world, pal. And it breaks hearts all over. All I see is your broken heart and your broken bank account!”
“Okay, thanks for your concern.” He started to get up.
“Hold on. Hold on for a second.” His friend put his hand up and made him sit down. “I will be right back.”
He waited. He heard some laughing. And then she came. She wasn’t perfect. Not even close. But she sat next to him. He could smell her and feel her shifting the swinging lounger and then fall a little closer to him. Her name was Brenda and she was his friend’s cousin. She had a crooked front tooth, a scar on her collarbone and was a bit nervous, laughed too much, but they sat there and talked. She kept having to push a sweep of brown hair out of her eyes. He told her about everything. And she listened. She told him about her guy back in Ohio. That was why she moved out here to get away. Finally it got chilly. They sat closer to warm up for a few more minutes.
“Well, I better go help clean up in there. Earn my keep. I have a son, too. He is around here somewhere. He is the dirtiest one. You’ll meet him.”
“Sure. I would like that. Can I see you again. Tomorrow?”
“Yes, I guess. I know you are….”
“It is okay. “ They looked at each other with a look only two people who have found each other out of all the others in the world can give.
“I’m not perfect.” She said.
“I am glad. Me neither. See you tomorrow.”
When he got home the red glow was off. He could change the selection. He could fix everything. He could talk to her and Oliver just like before. Maybe better.
But he selected “End Cycle”. It prompted him five times. It warned him that recreating his wife and son would be impossible. He kept selecting “Yes”, the tears running down his face. The device went dark. He collapsed at the small round kitchen table. There was a knock at the door. A tech with “CYU” on his pale blue shirt came in, a different, serious tech, this time without speaking or even looking at him and took the main device and all the equipment-the screens, the sensu-pack, the tiny speakers and sensors- packed it all up and left. The room was completely bare. He looked up from the table and noticed he had never even put up any pictures, decorations or anything. But it felt good-the bareness. It was how he felt.
He noticed that the tech had left a piece of shiny paper on the table. It said-“Best Friend-Pet For Life-CYU. Choose Your Universe. An A.I. Company Already In The Future. We Are waiting for You!” He put the flyer in the table drawer.
He got in bed. He smelled his hand. He could smell hamburger, mustard, some sort of garlic sauce that was really good. And he could smell her. A perfume from her mixed with dish soap and food and charcoal. He listened and heard for the first time there were no sounds at night from the Men’s Neighborhood.
He fell asleep wondering what her son’s name was.
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