Parcel for you - Part 55

 

‘You have to give him his freedom, Mum, so he can develop as a sentient being. I really think we, as a family, are pioneers of this new technology but we must stop treating Spencer as an object….or a child and just give him his wings.’

 

Vanessa sighed heavily as she lay in bed with Spencer at her side. She’d changed his cartridge, given him a wipe down with household cleaning wipes, he smelled of dettol and something else, something familiar but she couldn’t put her finger on it. It was as if he’d somehow brought home the smell of Currys PC World, the scent of new electrical items and carpet tiles. She’d thrown away his old pyjamas and put him in a tracksuit and now he was sleeping soundly, in standby mode, the safest he’d been for days.

 

‘Yes I agree but I’ll keep him at home for now, at least until we’ve all recovered from this ordeal.’

 

‘It just shows, doesn't it, what people, even man-made people, can do when they have free will. You know some people believe that we only utilise about thirty percent of our potential. We waste the best of ourselves just milling around at home, watching tv and dissolving into social media. Spencer escaped the confines of his home and went on to save another guy from danger. I can’t wait to meet Uncle Cedric.’

 

‘Uncle Cedric,’ Vanessa whispered as a shudder went through her body.

 

Cedric was still charging in Annie’s room as Vanessa chatted to her daughter. She had mixed feelings about her daughter’s take on things. There was no way Spencer was getting any more freedom, not after this and there was no reason for Annie to be so positive about Cedric, she hadn’t even met him. Perhaps he could be the guinea pig of new found freedoms and with a bit of luck he wouldn’t find his way home again.

 

Charlie was absent from the bed. He’d taken one look at Cedric and legged it outside, down the garden, over the back fence and away to where cats go when they are so horrified by something new in their own home that they take an extended leave of absence.

 

She bid her daughter goodnight and settled to sleep but some time in the early hours, before her alarm, she was awakened by a loud sound inside the house. At first, it worked its way into the landscape of her dream; she was on holiday, somewhere hot, lying in bed, the ceiling fan above her whirring loudly. She was disturbed by the sound of a waiter knocking on her door to bring her a Negroni but pixel by pixel the images in her mind shifted from dream to reality. The holiday was over, she was hot under the duvet and it wasn’t the fan she could hear but a vacuum cleaner and the knocking was the hose attachment repeatedly hitting the skirting board.

 

Spencer was still charging and she didn’t dare risk unplugging him until his battery was full, she needed him to be functioning normally after so much stress and disruption in their lives. There was only one thing for it, she would have to deal with Cedric by herself.

 

The landing and hall lights were on and he was halfway up the stairs, resting on his knees vacuuming each stair with painstaking precision. 

 

‘Cedric,’ she shouted as she tied up her dressing gown belt. He didn’t respond at all, in fact he looked sort of possessed as he continued vacuuming the carpet, rubbing the hose attachment vigorously into the fibres until every flake of detritus was sucked up.

 

‘Cedric!’ 

 

Again he ignored her so she pushed past him on the stairs and headed to the plug sockets in the hall, bent down and pulled out the plug. At first he didn’t seem to notice and carried on pushing the lifeless device until the penny dropped and he looked up at her, blinked and let out a strange sigh.

 

‘I’m sorry Cedric, it’s just a bit early for that.’

 

He shrugged and slowly pulled the cable back up and wrapped it neatly over the handle and leant it up against the wall in the hallway. Vanessa stood motionless with her hands still clutching her belt as if trying to protect herself from him.

 

There was an awkward pause while he stood motionless a few feet from her as if waiting for direction. There was something about the way he was looking at her, not quite focused by still managing to convey an intenseness which was uncomfortable.

 

‘You can go into the lounge if you like,’ she said lightly, ‘I’ll put the television on for you.’

 

He hovered for a second and they exchanged a couple of awkward dance steps around each other as he passed by her, a little too closely for comfort. She quickly switched on The Simpsons and bolted out of the room back upstairs to bed, pulling the duvet up over her body.

 

There was something different about Cedric and it wasn’t just his brain damage and crossed pupils, he had something extra, something which Spencer didn’t, something unnerving. In the back of her mind she knew what it was but she was reluctant to truly acknowledge it. 

 

It was something she’d observed many times before in her male counterparts, more so when she was a lot younger. It was a rare thing now but it still happened, albeit occasionally and she recognised it as a subtle energy, a body language but in a cyborg it was much more alarming.

 

Cedric had a kind of sexual energy. It occurred to her that at some point his sexual function had been activated. Perhaps it was activated by his wife or by the gang he was in who were, according to Spencer, renting him out to make money, or maybe something happened in the squid lorry. Whatever it was, it was palpable and Vanessa didn’t like it, she wasn’t used to it and it put her on edge.

 

She lay there, wondering now what he was doing in the lounge. Did he even like The Simpsons? To his credit, Spencer was very matter of fact about things and Vanessa decided she would speak to him about it, she just needed to find the right words. It was a delicate matter. 

 

There was no chance she could go back to sleep. Instead she put her hand into Spencer’s and clock-watched until he came out of his shut down, fully charged and back to his old self. 

 

‘Hello Mrs Wife. I’ve got to make you tea and prepare your breakfast,’ he said, ‘Where is Charlie? I don’t remember him coming to bed with us. I miss him.’

 

‘No. I think he’s uncomfortable around Cedric.’

 

‘Oh no, that sounds like the bullies in our gang. A few of them said Cedric was a creepy sort. Terrible because he means well. He’s a very helpful guy, always tidying. I think you’ll grow to like his qualities.’

 

‘I already know about his tidying! He woke me up vacuuming at the crack of dawn.’

 

Spencer nodded. ‘That makes sense. He was eyeing up the vacuum cleaners in Currys. I think he had a Henry at his old house, or maybe a Hetty. Whatever it was, he was very attached to it. You know it would be nice if we got one for him to make him feel at home here. The Electrolux we have isn’t very attractive is it,’

 

‘Why does it need to be attractive?’

 

‘I don’t know,’ Spencer shrugged as he put on his socks, ‘I think Cedric gets attached to certain objects. I wonder if he’s found his milk frother..’

 

‘Probably. I left it downstairs.’

 

‘I’ll go down then. Are you coming?’ Spencer hesitated and looked blankly at her, ‘Hey, you’re not even dressed yet!’

 

Vanessa took a deep breath. ‘I know. I wanted to wait until you were up. I…I don’t know, I just felt a bit uncomfortable getting dressed with Cedric in the house. Maybe we should get a lock on the bedroom door now that we have a lodger.’

 

‘He’s not a lodger, he’s a good friend of mine. We don’t need a lock. Cedric’s not a serial killer,’ he laughed.

 

‘I don’t know why you find that funny.’

 

Spencer laughed again and went downstairs while Vanessa got dressed. She felt as if she couldn’t quite be herself and had to be fully clothed and presentable with tidy hair before entering her own kitchen.

 

It was wonderful to have a hot drink and breakfast prepared for her again but as she sat down she noticed Cedric crouching down next to the bin. He’d taken out the bag and tied it up neatly and was frantically wiping the inside with a large wad of paper which he then held up to show her.

 

‘Bin juice,’ he blurted out, holding up the brown smeared stains on the kitchen roll which was now damp with dirty liquid.