'Parcel for you...' Part 4

Vanessa put down the phone and stood behind Spencer, staring at the top of his head, light brown skin showing through the gaps in his thick dark hair. For a few minutes she was reluctant to touch him, he looked absurd, freakish, but with his charge now running so low, she had no choice but to take action. She fumbled around, desperately trying to lift up his top while feeling as if she were violating him in some way since he was now completely lifeless and unable to defend himself.

She located the three deep holes for his charger, wincing as she pushed in the plug, gently at first, checking his facial expression for signs of pain, which was ludicrous because he was frozen like a mannequin. There was something about forcing an object into another human body, robot or not, which made her cringe, her fingers felt weak as she continued to push, holding her breath until he was fully connected. Perhaps it was something only a woman would understand but the process of penetrating his body with the plug left her feeling wobbly and emotionally exhausted.

She pulled back his chair so that it could connect with the wall socket. It occurred to her how stupidly short the charging cable was but then she wondered if it was for safety reasons. Would Spencer become suicidal living with her? She was once engaged to a man who repeatedly told her that she made him feel like killing himself. The strange thing was, he never broke off their engagement, indeed, it was Vanessa who put an end to things but even she had let it continue for at least a year too long. Their relationship had become a form of self harm for both of them and this had always puzzled her.

The panel on his back lit up in small red characters, two percent, critical. Spencer had arrived with a very small amount of charge. It was clear that, together with Pat, they had pushed him too far by making him cut the lawn just hours after arriving in his new home. The light on his Adam’s Apple changed from flashing to constant. Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief, he was going to be okay.

She began to make dinner, chopping vegetables while constantly glancing at him. Her cat, Charlie jumped up onto the window sill outside and watched them for a while, his wide green eyes flitting from Spencer back to Vanessa, looking at her for answers, she didn’t have any. She shrugged and beckoned him in with her index finger, the cat flap opened, very gingerly, he entered the house on tiptoes, paused for a few seconds, then raced up the stairs at breakneck speed.

Perhaps Charlie would never accept Spencer into their home. Then who would be up for re-homing? She couldn’t trust Pat with either of them. Pat was a good friend, great fun and very honest but there was a hardness to her, an, ‘Oh they’ll be alright,’ kind of attitude which she applied to everyone, even her children. 

Vanessa was a worrier. As she stir-fried the vegetables she thought about how hard it is to change the essence of yourself, the software, especially after middle age. She wished she could be a bit more like Pat, it would certainly have helped her at work but she couldn’t help putting other peoples’ feelings before her own. If only people were programmable like robotic husbands; she would re-program herself to not give a shit or at least, give a bit less of a shit when it came to circumstances which were detrimental to her own wellbeing.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a chair scraping the floor. Spencer stood up and started to walk towards the hall, pulling his plug out of the socket on the wall so that it fell into her saucepan. ‘Oh,’ she gasped, fishing it out of the hot contents. ‘Hang on a minute, Spencer, you’re still plugged in.’

To her surprise he put his hand behind his back and pulled out his socket. ‘That felt funny,’ he said.

Vanessa wiped her hands down the front of her apron. ‘Where are you going?’

‘There’s something we need to do,’ he said as he continued walking towards the front door.

‘You can’t go out, it’s dark!’

He got to the front door, stopped, twisted to the right and looked down at the ring which was still inside its plastic packaging. Slowly he lifted it up, unwrapped and walked menacingly towards Vanessa, holding it in his hand and grinning. ‘Will you marry me?’ he said, dropping on one knee in a manner so smooth that she wondered if that was the one function he was programmed to do better than anything.

Now she was feeling a little disturbed but also very obligated to say yes, afterall, he had been ordered for the specific purpose of being her husband, she’d paid six thousand pounds for him. She reminded herself that he wasn’t a real man, in fact none of this was real life. There was also a sense of fear at what might happen if she said no.

‘Well?’ he said.

The sight of him kneeling down like that was intolerable. ‘Yes,’ she said, very flatly.

Spencer stood up slowly, stiffly. He looked into her eyes, shoved the ring onto her finger and gave her a bear hug which became a little too firm at one point and inhibited her breathing. ‘Okay,’ she said, pushing him away. ‘Maybe sit down at the table again while I finish making dinner.’

It was a relief to see him following her instructions. She picked up the manual again and went to the page which outlined all the different modes programmable to her new husband. Active mode, helpful mode, listening mode, amorous mode, super happy, flattering…There were too many, dozens in fact. Vanessa just wanted him quiet so that she could feel safe in her home. 

Reluctantly she programmed him to be in ‘depressed man’ mode. She felt so guilty, it seemed like a terrible thing to do when they’d just got married but it was one that most fitted what she currently wanted him to be, still, uncommunicative, subdued, staring into space, flat, face expressionless. It's just temporary, she told herself as she sat down to eat dinner.