Clockwork [final]

Two

Derek stared apprehensively at the steaming bowl of soup in front of him. From across the table, Adette watched him with big, hopeful green eyes. 

“Go on, try it!” she insisted, beaming. He couldn’t help but find her just a little bit cute. He gave her a mistrustful glance but nonetheless, picked up the spoon and shovelled some into his mouth. It was the best thing he’d tasted in years. Considering it was just plain pumpkin soup, that was a little sad.

“Is it okay?” she asked anxiously, biting her lip. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to cook, especially for anyone other than myself; I mean, usually my robots do it for me, but-“

She seemed to catch herself and sat up straighter in her seat with reddened cheeks. “Never mind.”

He watched her while she blabbered on nervously, and for the first time that he could remember in many years, he found the edge of his lips curling up, a strange feeling bubbling in his chest. And, all of a sudden, it happened; he was laughing. It was a sound that seemed alien, like it wasn’t really coming from him.

Now she frowned with a mixture of bewilderment and offence. “What? I didn’t make a joke.” However, a slight quiver at her lips showed she was trying not to laugh too, even though she didn’t have a clue what was funny.

“Nothing, it’s just…” he gasped, trying to calm down, “There was something about how you seem so nervous when I’m the one who’s in your house, using your shower, wearing your clothes, eating your food… it’s just funny, that’s all.”

Adette paused for a moment and then gave a meek little smile. “Well… I’m glad to amuse you. I suppose that is pretty funny.”

“Seriously though, this is the best thing I’ve tasted in years,” he confessed, spooning in another mouthful. He never thought he’d see the day where he witnessed someone physically glow with pride.

For the first time, he actually looked around at his surroundings. There was a small window that overlooked the sink, but the view wasn’t interesting enough to hold his interest for long. The sink itself appeared to be normal, a steel working surface on either side of it and drawers and cupboards underneath it. A tall closet stood next to the door and he vaguely recalled that the fridge was behind him. The walls were adorned with a few simple, vague paintings. No matter how closely he searched, he couldn’t find one single unusual thing about the room he was in.

He noticed then that he was thinking more logically than usual; from that, he could conclude that he must’ve be on one of his “low periods”. It wouldn’t be long before he went into withdrawal. If he thought about it really hard, he could guess he probably last used cocaine about two days ago. His mind reverted to thoughts of the supply in his pocket but was distracted by the pretty red-headed woman sitting across from him, watching his face with something that resembled interest.

Something about Adette intrigued him; she made him want to learn more. He had never met anyone as contradicting and unexpected as she was, and she gave off a vibe that there was more to her than what she revealed. He recalled a quote from somewhere about onions having layers, just like people. More than anything else, he was taken aback at how much he felt like she was the sort of person he should adopt as a rolemodel.

They ate in silence for several moments before Derek eventually broke the silence.

“So, you going to tell me about your freaky-ass talking shower or am I just still high as a kite and should just put that down to one of my hallucinations?”

Adette giggled, twirling her spoon in clumsy little circles.

“Well, I don’t quite know how to explain it. When I was a little girl I got into robotics and I guess I never stopped.”

“So what was that little robot thingy you had earlier?”

Adette just smiled coyly. “Trade secret.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, unable to help but feel a little allured by that smile. “What kind of secret you want from a bum like me? Pretty sure you already got it all figured out, you seem pretty smart. Even if you don’t know shit about the streets, you can probably still figure out I’m just a homeless bum that’s hooked on coke.”

Adette was silent for a moment, appearing to be choosing her words.

“You’d be surprised how much I know about the streets. And I know that a “homeless bum” with a coke addiction as severe as yours have a motive. What’s your motive, Derek?” She leaned forward as she said the last part, her voice turning quiet.

For a long moment, Derek seemed to be shocked into silence. “Look here chick, that shit’s classified,” he said finally, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Look here boy, I don’t actually care. I’ll tell you what’s up with the little robot if you tell me what’s up with your coke addiction.”

He gave her a long, hard glare, but on the inside he was stunned. Was she really speaking like he did? It didn’t seem fitting, a clash of her characteristics and her personality.

“Fine, you really want to know? Just the usual sob story, nothing exciting. My father thought I was a puss, my mother didn’t want me, the other kids hated me, coke was at first my way in to social acceptance but became my way out of having to think about everything else. It got out of control real fast.”

He braced himself for the sympathetic look he had a feeling she would give him, which would undoubtedly just make him angry. But what she did next confused him even more. She just nodded coolly and leaned back in her seat, physically appearing to relax. It was as if he had given her some kind of reassurance or confirmation, but he couldn’t grasp how. Her lips moved as she muttered to herself, but he couldn’t hear what she said.

“Okay. See, that wasn’t so hard, now, was it?”

He eyed her for a long moment. “Girl, you don’t make sense. Why would you take a homeless coke addict off the streets, take him into your house, shower him, feed him and ask him to tell you about his past? What are you, Mother Teresa?”

She watched him with her arms folded while he spoke, then wordlessly pulled the little robot from her pocket and placed it on the table.

“This robot is what I like to call a “heart detector”. Believe it or not, there is extremely subconscious psychology that gives away tell-tale signs of how good- or bad- a person is. However, these are easily missed with the ordinary human eye. This little guy is programmed to pick them up and tell me just how good of a person everyone I ever encounter is. It lets out a series of tones; the higher the pitch, the better the person. Best security defence I could possibly have, in my opinion; why defend from a threat and risk your defence failing if you can successfully detect a threat before it’s even become one? When I walked past you, this robot made the highest pitch tone I had ever heard it make. That intrigued me. It’s not what you’d expect, a guy sitting in the gutter looking sorry for himself being a remarkably good person; extraordinary, scientifically speaking,” she finished, pushing her glasses up her nose.

During her explanation, Derek had leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “Right. So, I’m not questioning your robot thing, but how do you know it’s not malfunctioning? Or come to think of it, how do you know that it’s even accurate in the first place?”

“Because,” she said quietly, “It saved my life once.”

That made him hesitate a little, but he still couldn’t restrain his doubt. “Yes, but still, what if it’s wrong?”

“Well, then I guess you might as well go ahead and stab me. Go on, get it over with.”

Then, for a long time, neither of them said anything; just stared each other down across the table, daring the other to make a move. There was something challenging in the strange robot-girl’s eyes. He got the sense he’d gotten himself tangled up in something that he couldn’t back out of. It made him feel a little afraid.

“You’re staying with me, by the way,” she informed him casually.

“I think I knew that,” he sighed, slumping in his chair.