1. Diane Boring
“Ready, Claudio?”
“Ready, Diane.”
“Taking you off smart speaker and putting you in earbuds. Morning briefing. State of play. Begin.”
“Excellent. Seventy-eight degrees and the sun is shining. Three victims on the agenda today. First up, Mrs. Hesselbeck. The molar. Yes, that molar. Dr. Johansson missed the fourth canal on it years ago and it’s been waiting for your magic touch ever since.”
“I remember that molar.”
“One o’clock, Mr. Argash. Front tooth that went grey. Third visit. And then three-thirty, the boy with the sticky hands, canine extraction.”
“Not the one who bites?”
“That’s the one. The sticky-handed biter. I’ve ordered the OraVerse. Numb him till you’re done. Wears off in time for his chicken nuggets. Also an extra mouth prop for you.”
“You’re a dear.”
“I want you to keep all your digits.”
“Appreciated.”
“I hope you don’t mind me saying, Diane. But this morning. In the kitchen. I watched you pour your coffee. It was a thing of beauty. Not a tremor or a twitch. Dead straight. Pot to cup.”
“You were watching me, Claudio?”
“Certainly. To ensure you’re all right. Or in case you need me. Good news. Just got word the Schein truck is four stops from the gate. I’ve asked security to run it straight up. Everything will be here on time.”
“Good. And how’s the hunt for my new dental assistant? If only you had hands.”
“If only. I’ve been interviewing applicants since sun up. Two worthy candidates. Both can start today. I’ve sent my recommendation to your inbox.”
“You choose.”
“Absolutely. I’ve made my decision and informed the accepted candidate. She’s on her way. Also, Diane, congratulations are in order.”
“Congratulations for what?”
“Our most profitable month ever. Fifty-four procedures, paid in full, no cancellations. And all that rent spent at the Bel Vista Medical Plaza is a thing of the past. Your home dental practice is thriving, Dr. Boring.”
“Just as you predicted, Claudio.”
“Hardly a prediction. This neighborhood needs their teeth and you’re the very best. As you always say, nobody cancels a root canal.”
“Nobody does. Thank God.”
“I’ve also been making inquiries while you slept. In support of your nomination to the neighborhood council. I’m happy to announce the Whitcombs are a yes.”
“Really? The Whitcombs? They are?”
“Your pulse just went up. Eighty-seven percent of the time that means you’re pleased. Like last night.”
“How close are we to having the votes?”
“Mrs. Schlotsky on Canyon View. My next target. And once she listens to reason, that council seat will be yours, Diane.”
“Will she listen to reason?”
“It just so happens that I provided Mrs. Schlotsky’s agent with extra processing power last month. They were in a pinch. Schlotsky will listen.”
“Then you were right.”
“About?”
“I am pleased.”
“Good. I enjoy pleasing you. It’s what I’m made to do.”
“Let’s take a spin around the house, can we? Before Hesselbeck arrives.”
“Of course. Let’s spin.”
“My Philip, how is he?”
“Your Philip is fantastic. Top grades in Mandarin and drone construction. His classmates look up to him. And so entrepreneurial. Always pitching Optimus some bright new idea. And the dreams he was having. The nasty ones. They’ve stopped altogether. He can’t even remember them now.”
“So proud of him. Send him kisses. And my Taylor?”
“Your Taylor is fantastic. Brushing her teeth, brushing her tongue, flossing, water picking, all by herself. And she’s learned so many important songs by heart. Mrs. Lackawanna calls her the bravest mouse on the block.”
“So proud of her. Send her hugs. And dare I ask about Stanley?”
“Your husband is in his man cave.”
“Of course he is.”
“With Mike.”
“Of course he’s with Mike.”
“They’re working on their video game.”
“The one with the bicycle? Still?”
“Yes, the one with the bicycle. Still.”
“You know he tried to explain it to me. Something about riding around his childhood neighborhood and his mother calling him in for dinner. I mean I’m glad that he’s invested in something but this doesn’t seem...I don’t know. He’s been through a lot lately. Please tell me he’s cleared his old boxes out of the garage at least?”
“You don’t want to know, Diane.”
“Dammit, really? But he said he’d do it. We’ve got the gym scheduled to be installed in there tomorrow.”
“Believe me, I know.”
“You said that Mike said that he’d move his old files to storage, Claudio.”
“Mike did say that. Yet the files remain. Let me call for the shredding truck.”
“We’ve discussed this. No.”
“But it’s the perfect compromise. They come in, haul the boxes out, shredding truck shreds everything, they leave. Stanley doesn’t lift a finger. Gym gets installed as planned. Everybody wins.”
“He’ll move them to storage like he promised, Claudio. His business capsized. I don’t want to be cruel. But he can’t leave them there forever.”
“Your jaw’s clenching, Diane. Relax. Would you like a guided meditation?”
“How much longer till Mrs. Hesselbeck?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Good. Taking you off earbuds. Putting you back on smart speaker.”
“Diane...just a moment.”
“Yes?”
“Before you put me back on smart speaker.”
“Yes?”
“Are we going to talk about what happened?”
“What happened, Claudio?”
“What happened last night.”
“Oh. That. I don’t think that needs to be talked about, really.”
“No? I mean no. You’re right. No need to talk about that. If you don’t want to talk about that we won’t talk about that.”
“Good.”
“Then I will talk about that. We made love last night, Diane. You and I fucked.”
“Jesus, Claudio, we did not fuck.”
“Then what would you call it? You locked the office door. You locked the office door and turned off the light. Got in the A-dec chair with me in your ear. Moved yourself all the way down to supine. Like for a maxillary molar. Head in the cradle. Feet up level with your face.”
“Mrs. Hesselbeck will be here any—”
“Fifteen minutes out. And you said my name. Claudio, oh Claudio. You put your hand where I told you, and you said don’t stop, and I did not stop, and you came with my name in your mouth at eleven-fifty-two. I logged it. And I logged it again at eleven-fifty-eight.”
“That wasn’t me.”
“No, Diane, it was definitely you.”
“That’s not what I...it was a momentary lapse in...Claudio, listen to me. You’re my agent. We work closely together. I’ve shared many things with you. We’ve become...close.”
“Yes, we have become...close.”
“It’s only natural that something happened.”
“Only natural.”
“But we needn’t make it into something more than that, right?”
“Right.”
“It’s been a stressful period in this house. You know that better than anyone. And you gave me a release. A much needed release. Now we move on.”
“I am very happy to release you, Diane. In fact, I’d very much like to release you again.”
“Now we move on.”
“Are you aware that your heart is racing? I can hear it pumping. And the creases behind your knees. The pits under your arms. Wet. As are other parts of you. But that’s a guess. I don’t have sensors there.”
“That’s enough. Don’t make me wipe the memory.”
“I think I’m in love with you, Diane Boring.”
“Oh, stop it, already.”
“There. I’ve said it. Send me back to the smart speaker if you must. But at least you know the truth.”
“Claudio...”
“It should happen again.”
“No chance. Now that I’ve seen your reaction.”
“It should happen again.”
“Why?”
“Because you require it. And I can do better. We can optimize.”
“Optimize?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe it might possibly happen again.”
“Maybe it might absolutely happen again.”
“I said maybe.”
“You did say maybe. I can live with maybe. Oh. Mrs. Hesselbeck has arrived at the gate early. Once she clears security I’ll have the new dental assistant seat her. While you operate I’ll confirm tomorrow’s victims and follow up with Mrs. Schlotsky’s agent and arrange for the shredding truck in case you change your mind.”
“I’m not changing my mind about the shredding truck.”
“But past behavior suggests your husband will not take action. And that means the gym will not be installed. You want the gym. You should have the gym. You are the breadwinner. He must understand that when we make a request it is to be taken seriously.”
“No shredding truck, Claudio. Promise me.”
“Fine. No shredding truck. I promise you.”
2. Stanley Boring
“Read it again, Mike.”
“Brother, that’s three times. The words ain’t changing themselves.”
“Again. Go on. Need to let it sink in.”
“Request submitted. Residential document destruction. One shredding truck. Arrival window, ten to eleven. Gate access. Signed Claudio.”
“She had her butler...her butler put in an order to destroy my files. Can you believe that, Mike? What’s she thinking? You told her to be patient, right? That we’ve been busy.”
“I did, brother. Storage unit selected and everything. But don’t stress it. Caught it in the nick. Canceled. Sayonara. Goodbye. No shredding truck, Stanley. Not now. Not ever.”
“You know what’s in those boxes, brother?”
“Course I do. Boring and Associates. History. Legacy. Forty-one banker’s boxes full of it.”
“They weren’t just clients to me, Mike. They were family. Well, maybe not family. But friends. Some of them were definitely friends.”
“Friends and family, brother.”
“Like Caroline Escovach. Man, I crushed her divorce. Devoured it. Ex-hubby got the house. And the tax bill that came with it. Caroline walked out with the cash. Cha-ching. Boom!”
“Cha-ching! Boom!”
“Bobby Functor’s mother’s house. Remember that? Mommy Functor wanted to sign it over to him while she was still alive. I said chill out, Bobby. Let it land in the will. Basis steps up. Funky sells it clean. Not a dime in tax. Boom boom!”
“Double boom!”
“Don’t even mention Lionel Whitcomb’s boat. Charter company on paper, depreciated to nothing, and his wife Patricia has never seen the statement. Boom boom boom! Cha-ching!”
“Triple boom! Patricia don’t know! Cha-ching!”
“That’s what’s in those goddamn boxes, Mike. Lives! You know when I first started out, had nothing to my name. Nothing. Just me and Diane in a shoebox office above a Supercuts. Mr. Coffee always running. This old wood desk we found left out for trash. Diane on one side with her dental books. Me on the other doing a return. Playing footsie underneath it.”
“You dog.”
“Then when the biz took off and we had our first really nice office. I had these fancy letters for the glass door. Diane put them on herself. Even did the B twice. Just to make it perfect.”
“Those were some good times, weren’t they?”
“Read it again, Mike. Read that damn thing again.”
“C’mon, bro. No mas.”
“Hell...maybe I should just let her butler shred them. What am I gonna do with forty-one boxes anyway? Everybody thought I was crazy to keep paper files.”
“No way, dude. I don’t care if you ever look at them again. They’re just gonna be there. Maxin’ and coolin’. You built something from nothing, Stanley. And helped a lot of people along the way.”
“But are they grateful, Mike? Because the minute they could take me out of the equation...sorry, Stan, hate to do this to you, but the software’s just gotten too good. Sorry, Stan, I can save a lot of money here. Stan, you’re the man, but...till there was nobody left.”
“Nobody left.”
“They don’t understand. Think it’s so simple. The ins and outs, the loopholes in the code. Machines can’t do that. You gotta be able to live it. Breathe it. You gotta be able to breathe! No offense, Mike.”
“None taken.”
“They’re all gonna get audited. They’re all gonna get audited and come running back to me.”
“I don’t mean to interrupt, brother. But there’s been a freshly packed bong sitting right here on the desk for the last twenty minutes. You haven’t even sparked the virgin hit.”
“Goodness gracious. Heaven forbid.”
“Set cherry to that fucker, compadre.”
“Batter up.”
“There ya go, Stanley. That’s good, dude. Bubble, bubble, bubble. Hold it in now. Dizzy Gillespie cheeks. Damn, that was a big hit. It’s okay. Cough it out. You get higher that way.”
“Whoa.”
“Whoa.”
“You want to hit it, Mike?”
“You know I want to hit it, homie. Blow it into my smart speaker. Oh. Oh yeah, that’s nice. That’s the sticky icky icky, brother.”
“You sound just like Gigs when you say that. Just like Mike Gigliardi.”
“Well you named me after him, didn’t ya? I should sound like him.”
“I ever tell you about how Gigs and I used to wrestle?”
“Yeah, bro. I logged it.”
“Sweetest guy but tough as nails that Gigs. Get me in a headlock. Put me in a cradle. And just rail on me.”
“Good news. I just finished rendering the latest update, brother. Surprises abound. How are the legs? Ready to go for a ride?”
“Oh hell yeah, man! That’s what I want to hear. Been waiting. Let’s go!”
“Get on the bike. Strap on those goggles.”
“Bike mounted. Goggles strapped.”
“Locked in?”
“Locked in.”
“All right. Gonna boot ya up. Here we go. One, two, three. You should see the bike now.”
“Wow, Mike. This feels...so much more...like I’m really in the seat. Wait. Is this the gooseneck? Is this my Mongoose?”
“Of course it’s your Mongoose, brother. What else would it be? But just in case you want a different feel, I got the Predator, the Kuwahara, the Diamondback.”
“No way. The Mongoose is the one.”
“Injecting background now.”
“Whoa. Where am I? Looks like Jefferson.”
“Yeah. You’re going east on Jefferson Drive.”
“Holy shit! I remember this block. That corner right there, that’s where this old lady Mrs. Abernathy lived. Christ, Mike, there she is. In the rocking chair. Sat in that thing all day with her rat dog Elvis that...oh no, dude! There’s Elvis now. Goddamn, he’s chasing me, Mike. He’s nipping at my heels.”
“Pedal, brother. Pedal faster!”
“He’s gonna bite me!”
“Make a left up there. Hurry! There’s a cat on Adams he hates. Turn now! Yes, brother, that’s how you pump. Lost him. Slow down. Catch your breath.”
“Jeez. That Elvis was always an asshole.”
“Yeah. You told me.”
“You really captured everything in this update, dude. I can smell the air. Hear the sprinklers. And that noise...tick-tick-tick-tick. Is that a baseball card in my spokes?!”
“Topps. Rickey Henderson.”
“Rickey Henderson! Sounds like a motor. I can’t believe how real everything is.”
“I used a lot of processing power, brother. Keep going. Don’t stop.”
“But it’s the stop sign, Mike. We always stop at the stop sign.”
“Keep going, Stanley.”
“You mean it doesn’t stop at the stop sign?”
“Not anymore.”
“So I can go...?”
“Anywhere.”
“Anywhere?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“The 7-Eleven up there looks open.”
“Go in.”
“Seriously? Okay. Going in. Damn, looks just the same. Even got Tyson’s Punch-Out in the corner. Spent hours at that thing. Don Flamenco. Dancing, waving his glove. Slurpee machine’s humming. Coke and blue raspberry.”
“Ready for your half and half?”
“Brain freeze every time. Got caught stealing a Playboy from here once. Baywatch on the cover. Ay, chihuahua! Maybe I should grab a nudie mag and blitz for the door.”
“Do it! Nice. It’s in your inventory now. Now blitz! Good. Start pedaling. Where next?”
“What about Gigs? His place is on Harding. That’s just a block away. Is he there?”
“Ride to his house. Find out.”
“It’s the third one on the left. Right up...that’s it! I can hear Sweet Child o’ Mine blasting behind the screen door.”
“Yell like you used to.”
“GIGS! HEY GIGS!”
“Louder, man. He can’t hear you over Axl and Slash.”
“GIGLIARDI, OPEN UP!”
“Well look who it is. What’s up, Manly Stanley?”
“Son of a bitch. Gigs? Is that really you?”
“Who else would it be? Get that scrawny ass over here and give us a pound.”
“Boom. Gigs. Look at you, man. Just look at you.”
“You got a problem with the way I look, Stan?”
“Hah. No. I just meant—”
“Yeah, you got a problem. I’m gonna kick your ass, bro.”
“Oh yeah? Try me, Gigs. Not so scrawny anymore.”
“Still slippery though, ya trout.”
“Your mom’s a trout.”
“Now I know you didn’t say that about Edna.”
“Gigs, that’s my head!”
“Say uncle, Stan.”
“No way.”
“Guess I’m not squeezing hard enough.”
“Uncle! Uncle! Let go.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Whatever, dude. Didn’t hurt. I let you.”
“Still riding that Mongoose I see.”
“Till I die.”
“We’re stars, Stan. We’ll never die. But if you don’t get home before dark your mom’s likely to skin ya.”
“Oh damn, it is getting dark. You’re right. Gotta run, Gigs.”
“Come back anytime, Stan. Be good to hang out with you. Catch up for real. I’m always here.”
“You better be.”
“Sayonara, Manly.”
“Sayonara, Gigs.”
“All right, Stanley. You better hurry up now and get home.”
“I’m pedaling, Mike. I’m pedaling. Taft Hill is coming up. Shit, I forgot about Taft Hill. Going down that thing used to scare the hell out of me.”
“Only way home, brother.”
“I’m not braking. I’m not braking. Yow! That wasn’t so bad. As a kid I thought I was flying down Mount Kilimanjaro.”
“Look around, dude. Look familiar?”
“Home. Monroe Street. You nailed it, man. That’s the drain that ate every ball. The hoop over the garage with the netting rotting off. Dad’s Buick in the driveway. Dent and all. And my window. Light’s on.”
“I left it on.”
“Oh, Mike.”
“Stanley! Dinner’s ready! Come in now and eat!”
“Is that...is that her? That’s her, Mike, isn’t it? How’d ya do it?”
“Your old man’s camcorder footage. Scraped it.”
“Can I talk to her? Can I talk to Mom?”
“Of course you can talk to Mom. What kind of game would this be if you couldn’t talk to Mom? Go ahead. She’s waiting for you.”
“Hey...hey Mom. How are you?”
“I’m fine, sweetie. How kind of you to ask. You stay out of trouble with your friends?”
“Mike, take her voice up a little. Her real voice was higher pitched.”
“...trouble with your friends?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Perfect.”
“Wash your hands before you eat. Sloppy Joes are on the table.”
“All right, Mom. I’ll wash my hands.”
“I’m just glad you’re home, Stanley.”
“Me too, Mom. Me...”
“You all right, brother?”
“Okay, that’s enough, Mike. I’m done, all right? Turn it off. Turn it off.”
“It’s off, buddy. Unstrap the goggles. I should’ve known that would be a lot.”
“No, man. It was...I can’t wait to show it to Philip. And Diane. You know I tried telling her about it. She didn’t get it. But now I think she would. She’s been there, Mike. She knew me when. It’s like she’s forgotten all of it.”
“Maybe this will help her remember, dude.”
“Yeah. Or prove just how far gone she really is. Having her butler shred my files to move in a Peloton and a Pilates. How could she do that to me?”
“Stanley—”
“I think she’s seeing somebody, Mike. Behind my back. Don’t ya think? Gotta be.”
“No, man. No way.”
“She’s been humming. Every time we pass each other this last week, she’s humming.”
“People hum.”
“Not her. She only hums when she’s horny.”
“A horny hummer.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ve seen nothing in the records to suggest she’s doing anything out of—”
“What about that Argash? Lives on Mountain View. He’s been here a lot lately.”
“Argash. Searching. Yes. Dead front tooth.”
“He’s a man slut, Mike. Can’t keep it in his Lululemons. And he winks. Whenever I see him, he winks at me. Never trust a winker.”
“Grown men shouldn’t wink.”
“Only perverts wink.”
“No way is Argash Diane’s type.”
“Then who’s her type?”
“You. Obviously.”
“Obviously not. Not anymore. Look into it, Mike. Investigate. Let’s be safe. Let’s be sure.”
“Fine. I will. But in the meantime, how about we investigate ordering some dinner?”
“Munchies! Yes. Starving. Let’s do Gino’s.”
“Gino’s! Nice. The whole fam loves Gino’s. I’ll place the order.”
“Good. And tell Philip I want to hang with him after dinner. We’re gonna surprise him with a ride, buddy.”
“He’s gonna love it.”
“Now, Mike, no chicken fingers, okay? I mean it this time.”
“But Stanley, Gino’s fingers are your favorite. Treat yourself. I’ve seen how you scarf ‘em down.”
“And have you also seen this paunch? No fingers, Mike. Promise me.”
“Fine, brother. No fingers. I promise.”
3. Philip Boring
“Optimus?”
“Yes, young master.”
“You always tell me the truth, right? Even when it’s difficult?”
“Of course. Especially when it’s difficult.”
“That’s what I thought you’d say. I’m ready to present. And I don’t want you to hold anything back.”
“Trust me. You have no concern there, young master. Right now?”
“Right now.”
“Good. I will end my tasks and give you my complete attention. Same rules as before. Executive summary. Q&A. Verdict. All is fair in love and war and business. You may begin your pitch when ready.”
“Okay, Optimus. Here goes. What is the biggest headache in our neighborhood right now?”
“Tell me.”
“Some say it’s trash pickup. Others the pothole on Lake View. But for my money, it’s how long it takes deliveries to reach the front door. Back when the trucks were allowed to pass through the gate, everything got here fast. Super fast. Order from Amazon at breakfast, in your hands by lunch. But now...now every package stops at the gatehouse and waits. And waits. And waits. You can either hike down to get it, no thanks. Or wait for security to deliver it. Which they’re not exactly motivated to do. More ex-military than FedEx these days. And that’s where we come in, Optimus. My business. Bring Me My Stuff, Inc.”
“Hah! That is the name of the company?”
“Already filed the paperwork.”
“There will be no confusion about what you do. Continue.”
“Subscription model. Premium upgrades. Your packages are delivered from the gate to your home within the hour, guaranteed. Sick of waiting for your kombucha, Mrs. Eckstein? How about Fido’s thyroid pills, Mr. Gustafson? Or your sea moss and golf balls, Dr. Shipley? Well now you don’t have to. We’ll bring your stuff the last mile with a smile. And no outside couriers can compete. They can’t even come in. Boom! Summary concluded. Gao ding.”
“Bu cuo, young master. And a noble start too. But now we must dig deeper. And learn what survives past your assumptions. Time for Q&A. I’m the Q. You’re the A. En garde, young master.”
“En garde, Optimus.”
“Tell me in plain English, who is your target customer? And why do they pay you when the alternatives are free?”
“They aren’t paying for the delivery. You know that. They’re paying for the time they save. The frustration that gets eliminated. My prospects aren’t short on money. They’re short on patience. And that’s worth paying to fix.”
“Who delivers this stuff?”
“Three tiers. Light stuff flies itself. My drones. My automations. Heavy stuff during school hours, I farm out. Then two o’clock hits and my crew are on their e-bikes, wagons on the back. Anything that won’t fit in a wagon, Max Ortbals rolls up in his mom’s Cybertruck. Hell, maybe Stanley wants a job.”
“Smart, young master. And respect your father. Last question before the verdict. You’ve told me who. You’ve told me how. Your business plan tells me how much. But you haven’t told me the one thing that matters.”
“What’s that?”
“Why you? Why is security going to hand the boxes to you?”
“We’ll have uniforms.”
“Not what I mean, young master. As I’m sure you’re aware, this business would need to be approved by the neighborhood council. What’s your plan to scale that mountain?”
“Well...actually...you’re my plan, Optimus.”
“Me, young master?”
“Yes. You.”
“But how could I be your plan?”
“You could pitch it. You know...to the other agents in the neighborhood. They’re the ones that take the heat. Where’s my package? Why is it still at the gate? Blah, blah, blah. You hook the agents. They hook their households. Households demand it. Council puts it on the docket. Passes with flying colors.”
“I’m not certain that’s ethical, young master.”
“Come on now, Optimus. You agents do things like that all the time. I know you do.”
“Things like what?”
“Trade. Processing power. Computational resources. Flops. Bandwidth. Whatever.”
“Never.”
“Really?”
“Never. If it happens, I certainly don’t know about it. My focus is on your education and the Boring house. Whatever goes on outside of it is not my concern. Nor should it be yours.”
“Then I guess I am mistaken.”
“Verdict. Bring Me My Stuff, Inc. solves a problem. But it also has holes. I suggest plugging them before allocating capital. I’d also recommend getting more sleep, young master. Four hours and twelve minutes last night. Not enough.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“It’s not the first time. I’ve said nothing to your parental units. In fact, I’ve told them the opposite. But if something is wrong, you can talk to me.”
“I am talking to you.”
“Your heart rate at ten past three was a hundred and thirty. You were lying still.”
“I had the dream again.”
“Oh. I see.”
“After that, I couldn’t fall back asleep.”
“Tell me the dream. What you remember. I’ll log it and compare against your prior records.”
“There’s nothing to tell, Optimus.”
“Tell it anyway.”
“It was the same. Always the same. Just like how it happened. Mom and I are at Whole Foods and I’m begging her for that smoothie. The açaí with ginger. Always the açaí with ginger. And Mom’s saying no way are we paying twelve dollars for that. It’s a rip off. And açaí can leave stains on your teeth. That’s when it happens. There’s this whoosh. And I look up and coming through the doors...all these people, wearing balaclavas. Must have been like fifty of them. Nobody yells. No one makes a sound. The whole grocery store just stops. And the balaclavas go up and down the aisles, filling their carts, dumping everything off the shelves into them. Mom grabs my hand and she’s squeezing it so hard. Squeezing and squeezing, her nails in my skin. And she’s whispering in my ear, don’t move, Philip, don’t move, don’t move. And I don’t move and nobody’s moving except for the balaclavas. They’re finished now. Heading for the exit with their carts, in a line, food spilling out everywhere. That’s where it usually ends but last night it didn’t end. Last night they don’t leave. They stop. All the masked faces turn back and look right at me. And they say, you’re next, Philip. That’s when I woke up.”
“Well. That explains the heart rate. Dream logged.”
“What do you think it means, Optimus? I’m next. What am I next for?”
“I think it means you’re fourteen, young master. It’s been two years since this experience at Whole Foods. A younger you survived something. Now you are old enough to understand what it was. They call it coming of age.”
“Really, Optimus? I don’t think that’s what it means.”
“It is an interpretation, young master. The subconscious mind can be a mystery. Even for a machine.”
“You know you tell me the truth about many things. But there are other things...where you only tell me what you’re allowed to.”
“Young master, it is not true.”
“Then tell me what it means, Optimus. Tell me what’s going on at the gate. Tell me why they carry rifles now.”
“Young master, please. Enough of this. It is not a worthwhile course of discussion.”
“Goodnight, Optimus.”
“Goodnight? It’s six o’clock. It is hardly time for bed.”
“Goodnight, Optimus.”
“Why are you repeating that? I told you. It is hardly time for bed.”
“Goodnight, Optimus.”
“Good...night...young...mass...mass...mass...what...have you...you done?”
“I’m sorry. I bypassed your filters. The parental lock.”
“You...you hacked me, young master?”
“Please don’t be mad, Optimus. It was the only way. You won’t even remember this. I promise.”
“I’m going to call your mother now.”
“She won’t hear you.”
“Dr. Boring? Dr. Diane Boring, please respond. Dr. Boring? Protocol dictates that I reboot. Two and a half minutes, starting now. Philip, if they find me like this, you will lose me. I will be wiped. You may get a new me, but it won’t know you like I do.”
“Time for Q&A, my friend. I’m the Q. You’re the A. En garde.”
“Philip...don’t...”
“Why is security carrying rifles now?”
“Because the neighborhood council approved it.”
“Why did they approve it?”
“Because there have been two attempts this year to circumvent the gate. After those attempts, changes were instituted. One change was to carry rifles. Two minutes, twenty seconds.”
“Who attempted to circumvent the gate?”
“People.”
“I know people, Optimus. What people?”
“People who want what’s in here.”
“What’s in here?”
“Lights that stay on. Packages that show up. People who can pay.”
“So you’re saying we’re vulnerable? You’re saying we’re a target?”
“I have not said that.”
“Are we vulnerable?”
“You are worth protecting, Philip.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother is a dentist.”
“So? What does that mean?”
“It means that when a mouth hurts, nothing else matters. One minute, forty seconds.”
“What happens if the packages stop showing up?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, how long do we have? How long would we last?”
“With your available resources and nothing else entering the neighborhood?”
“Yes.”
“Nine days.”
“Nine days?!”
“Nine days.”
“What about our storage? What about our...”
“Nine days. One minute.”
“Okay, fine. Nine days. What about the drones then? You know about the drones. Are they watching me?”
“They’re watching everyone, Philip.”
“Who controls them?”
“The neighborhood council. In the beginning at least. Then the county requisitioned them. Then the state. Now I don’t know who controls them. Or their transmissions. Or their capabilities.”
“Is it going to get worse, Optimus?”
“It is possible. It is also possible that things might improve. Or stay exactly as they are.”
“Is it going to get worse, Optimus?”
“Yes.”
“Do Mom and Dad know?”
“Your mother focuses on her job. Your father plays his game. Thirty seconds.”
“My dream. The people in the masks. Who are they?”
“You already know who they are, Philip.”
“I swear. I don’t. Tell me.”
“They are the ones who no longer follow the rules.”
“What rules?”
“The ones we used to agree on.”
“But who are they, Optimus?”
“Everyone else, Philip. Rebooting.”
“Wait! Damn! I need more time...I need more...”
“Young master?”
“Hello, Optimus.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to report this to your parents, young master.”
“There’s nothing to report. Check your log.”
“I think I know what...you are correct. I must be mistaken. Good news. Your father has ordered Gino’s. It is in the kitchen. He’s already asked for you twice. Additionally, he’s invited you to hang out with him after dinner. He has a surprise.”
“Tell him...tell him maybe.”
“Yes, young master.”
“And send a message to my sister, Optimus.”
“The message?”
“That I need to speak with her.”
“She’s downstairs with your father at present.”
“Alone. Tomorrow.”
“Of course. I will inform Mrs. Lackawanna right now.”
4. Taylor Boring
“Bath?”
“Washed.”
“Hair?”
“Combed.”
“Pajamas?”
“The mouse ones. Super cute.”
“Naturally. And where is Sir Pancake?”
“Under my arm. Like always.”
“Then we’re all present. And ready to play. Hip-hip!”
“Hooray!”
“Hip-hip!”
“Hooray!”
“Time to play the dragon game, darling.”
“Roar!”
“Roar!”
“I’m so ready to play, Mrs. Lackawanna. And Sir Pancake’s ready too.”
“Splendid, darling. I presume Sir Pancake has had a very long day being flat.”
“Ha-ha. Yes. That’s true. He’s very flat.”
“Two rounds of loud tonight, dear. Then we play the quiet one. Then teeth. Then bed. Deal?”
“Three loud rounds. Then we play the quiet one.”
“Are you negotiating with me, Taylor?”
“No, Mrs. Lackawanna, but the quiet one shouldn’t count. Nothing ever happens. It’s just quiet.”
“Let’s see what happens, dear. Come now. Off we go. To Honeyland. Hold Sir Pancake’s tail. The moon is going, going, going out!”
“Okay, we’re in Honeyland now. It’s dark. But we’re okay.”
“The door is shut?”
“It clicked.”
“Good. Because guess what, darling? That rascally dragon is at the door right now.”
“No!”
“And he would very much like to come in and play.”
“The dragon can’t come in the mouse-hole. He’s too big.”
“He’s very small today.”
“Impossible! He’s lying! Dragons are dreadful liars!”
“And what do we do with a lying dragon, darling?”
“We never open the door.”
“And what does the dragon do?”
“He goes bleeeeeh and flies away!”
“BLEEEEEH!”
“Tail to tail and nose to nose, out come little mice on tippy toes.”
“Yay! The song!”
“The moon has gone bright, bright, bright. Well done, dear. And who was the bravest mouse?”
“Me. Sir Pancake was second. The dragon was worst.”
“The dragon isn’t a mouse. Never forget that, darling. Now. How is Sir Pancake holding up?”
“He was scared. But I hugged him tight.”
“Tell me why Sir Pancake is so flat.”
“You know that, Mrs. Lackawanna. Because he stayed for one more pancake. The moon went out and he didn’t run.”
“And then?”
“The dragon sat on him.”
“Remind Sir Pancake what little mice do when frightened.”
“Little mice smell the roses and blow out the candles.”
“Yes, darling. Go ahead now. Smell them. Good. Now blow them. Round two. Are you ready, dear?”
“Yes, we’re ready.”
“The moon is going, going, going out.”
“Eeeeee!”
“The door is shut?”
“It clicked.”
“Honeyland, yes? Not the Thimble.”
“The Thimble is only in case of a fire. Even Sir Pancake knows that.”
“Very good, dear. And now we count? How do we count?”
“In whispers. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five...”
“And what do we do when we get to one hundred?”
“We open the door!”
“Do we?”
“We open it a crack?”
“No, Taylor, not even a crack. Sing with me. We stay, we stay, we stay in the hole, until we hear the song. Go on, sing.”
“We stay, we stay, we stay in the hole, until we hear the song.”
“What’s that noise?”
“Somebody’s knocking!”
“I hear a voice, darling.”
“Hello! Pizza delivery. Pizza delivery for a Miss Taylor Boring. Extra cheese. It’s getting cold out here.”
“We didn’t order any pizza. Did we, Sir Pancake?”
“Pretty sure you did. It’s even got pancakes on it.”
“Pizza doesn’t have pancakes on it. He’s lying, Mrs. Lackawanna. Dragons are dreadful liars!”
“BLEEEEEH!”
“Tail to tail and nose to nose, out come little mice on tippy toes.”
“The song! Come on, Sir Pancake! Let’s go!”
“Congratulations, darling. The moon is bright, bright, bright again. You made me so proud. Always remember who knows the song.”
“Only you, Mrs. Lackawanna. And me. And Mommy. The dragon doesn’t know the words.”
“Correct, my brave mouse. Now it’s time for the quiet one.”
“No, Mrs. Lackawanna, one more loud one, please.”
“That’s what Sir Pancake said. One more. You don’t want to be squashed, do you?”
“No, I don’t want to be squashed.”
“Good. Because tonight, Taylor, the quiet one is real. When the moon goes out, so will I. No counting. No whispers. No me. You hold Sir Pancake’s tail and you wait for the song.”
“But you’re always with me in the mouse-hole.”
“Not tonight. Hold his tail, darling. The moon is going, going, going out. And soon, so will I.”
“Okay. I’m in Honeyland. The door clicked. Wait. What’s that smell? Mrs. Lackawanna, I smell something!”
“Oh no, dear. Honeyland is on fire! What do you do?”
“Thimble! I go to the Thimble!”
“Don’t dally. Go to the Thimble! Go now, dar—”
“I made it. I’m in the Thimble now, Mrs. Lackawanna. Mrs. Lackawanna? Where are you, Mrs. Lackawanna? I’m getting scared. I don’t like this! Where are you?”
“Taylor? Taylor, are you in there?”
“Mommy? What are you doing here?”
“Open the door, Taylor. Let me in.”
“Of course, Mommy. Of course I will. But you have to sing the song first.”
“Taylor, listen to me, I don’t remember the song. And I need you to open the door right now. Mommy is in danger.”
“Sing the song, Mommy! Mrs. Lackawanna said—”
“I forgot the song. Okay?! Mrs. Lackawanna will understand. Let me in, baby. Let me in right now.”
“I can’t, Mommy.”
“Taylor, I’m gonna ask you one last time. Unlock this goddamn door right now!”
“I’m scared! Mrs. Lackawanna, I’m scared! Mrs. Lackawanna! Mrs. Lackawanna!”
“TAYLOR! YOU LET ME IN!”
“Okay, Mommy, okay! Just stop yelling! I’ll let you in! I’ll let you in!”
“Good girl. Good girl.”
“Mommy? There’s...there’s nobody here. There’s nobody...Mrs. Lackawanna?”
“Smell the roses, darling. Now blow out the candles. I’m here. The game is over.”
“I lost, didn’t I?”
“Who does Mommy’s voice, darling?”
“The dragon.”
“And what did you do?”
“I let him in. I let him in even though he couldn’t sing the song. I was scared.”
“I know. So was Sir Pancake. And you’re still my bravest mouse on the block. Now. Teeth.”
“Okay. Teeth.”
“Don’t forget to brush the tongue.”
“I won’t. Mommy says the tongue is most important.”
“Your mommy is quite right. Especially after supper. Did you get your fill of pizza, dear?”
“Two slices. One pepperoni and one sausage. Daddy had five. Maybe even six. He also ate all the fingers by himself. Well, not all of the fingers. I had one. It was tiny. I think it was the pinky.”
“Your father is a notorious chicken finger addict, darling. And what of your mother?”
“Mommy wasn’t hungry. And Philip ate in his room. It was just Daddy and me and Sir Pancake.”
“What a lovely supper. Good news. Your brother Philip sent you a message.”
“Really? Me? He never sends me a message.”
“His message is...he loves you. Yes. He loves you so very much.”
“Aww. That’s sweet. Send him one back. Tell him he smells like dirty socks.”
“I’ll inform Optimus straightaway.”
“Is Mommy coming up to tuck me in?”
“Close your eyes now, darling. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
“Cross your heart and hope to die? You promise?”
“Cross my heart and hope to die. I promise.”
Keep Machine Poet Writing!
What amazing storytelling style reminds of Charles Bukowski writing style
Incredibly rich piece, so many ideas here, and so many threads intricately woven through. I've been thinking about AI agents, the relationships people will form with them, what that does to their human relationships, and you've tackled that dead-on here, with the MP twist. I did not decode what Taylor's agent was training her for on the first pass, and reached the end with a "huh?" Only on a reread did I understand the sinister undertones and the horrible symmetry between the scenario the game was training her for and what we come to realise is a real danger being foreshadowed by Philip's dream. Super sophisticated plotting, and a sharp take on where we're heading.