The Man with the Robot Wife

An Olive Branch

Officer Ely Lonnam returned to the junk shop the next day unfazed by Gage's rudeness. Being an M-Bo came with a sense of pride. People typically gushed over his exquisite hand. He'd never been treated with such disdain for the choice to have his useless stump of a wrist fitted for a perfectly articulate bionic hand. A replica hand superior in strength and flexibility to that of any human hand. He even refused to sheath it with imitation skin so that people could admire the craftsmanship through the translucent gel.

Gage cringed when the brass bell rang and Ely entered in full uniform.

"Out! Out!" he said, flailing his arms for emphasis. Ely held up his gloved hands palms out. A demonstration of peace.

"I mean no offense," he said. "I respect your business and everything you have done for our country. I know a good soldier when I see one." He wiggled his bionic hand to indicate he'd been there and done that. "I need what you're selling and I don't want any trouble."

Gage was stunned. All of these decades wallowing in the shadows of the horrors he faced. The way those shadows mangled him, molded him into the hunched and battered being he was now, transforming his former lean and magnanimous self. Yes, it was about time someone, anyone, interjected a sentiment of gratitude to him. He watched as Ely passed bin after bin in search of something specific.

"Perhaps I misjudged you," Gage said and grunted. He did not like to admit he was wrong; especially to an M-Bo with questionable hobbies. "What do you need all this stuff for? Wires, metal, and junk?"

Ely cleared his throat, somewhat uneasy with being on the opposite side of questioning. He chuckled and said as much to Gage.

"I don't care if you buy stuff or you don't. But you have to realize this just isn't normal," Gage said.

The officer scratched under his hat. "It's just a hobby. Something I picked up after leaving the service." His voice trailed off as if he wasn't aware he spoke the words aloud. "Why do you sell junk if you don't expect anyone to buy?"

Gage stammered. "Because I'm an old man and I'll do what I please."

Ely chuckled. "Still have some fire in you, too. I mean no offense. I like you. Despite what you may think of yourself."

Gage stammered again. He shuffled his feet and sat back onto the wood stool he kept behind the counter. He hung his head and pondered the young man's words. Ely picked up spools of candy colored coated wire and tossed them back into the bins.

Gage cleared his throat. "People used to come in. Then they stopped. But I had nothing else to do so I kept unlocking the door day after day."

"Don't you have any family nearby? Anyone to spend time with?" Ely paused and added, "A wife?"

"No," Gage grunted. "Never been married. Never been able to stop the shakes long enough to talk to a woman. Besides, I'm damaged goods and too old to give a damn."

Ely weighed the man's words, measuring for an appropriate response. "If you'd like, I could come by in the evenings and talk to you. Station is just up the road and I could always use more of what you sell here."

For the first time in many weeks, Gage smiled. His eyes creased and his crooked teeth gleamed in the sterile store light. "Alright then," he said and nodded. His skin tingled and warmth enveloped his chest. Oh no. Emotions. He liked Ely too.

The officer checked his NetCom and scrambled to complete his purchase. "It's late. My wife doesn't like being left alone all day. It was a pleasure talking with you," he said.

Gage grunted. His ineptitude at conveying he too enjoyed their conversation made him grumpy. Ely stuck out his hand for a shake and this time Gage hesitated but did not pull away. He was entirely aware of the bionic hand beneath Ely's glove.

(If you like what you read, please click the "star" to vote.)