Te Iubsec...Forever.

12 America

America it was. We left Romania in the coming months, and my wife Franceska returned with me to the United States. We moved into my humble suburban home. Neat but nearly void of furniture. I just knew it was going to be a different experience for her. Sure, she had lived all over Europe, but Springtime in the South was different. The beauty of the flowers and the tragedy of their pollen, the explosion of greens and colors all around, the abundance of trees, and the warm, gentle southerly wind that ushers out winter with quick, sticky afternoon rain showers in full appreciation of the sun.

Ches had been a devoted wife, and she was intent on finding out all she could about me. After we settled in, we slowly added furniture we picked out together. She loved to read and began devouring the books from the bookcases in my office. One afternoon I was changing the oil in the trusty old LandCruiser, preparing to take her to the mountains, when she burst into the garage holding an old I, Robot paperback book.

"You like robots!"

"I do," I responded from underneath the Cruiser.

"And aliens and zombies, too, a triumvirate of awesome."

"Sometimes, my Nick, I don't know what you say, but you do like robots. I like robots too!" She exclaimed excitedly, enough for me to slide out from under the truck to see her.

"Well, stay out here and tell me about it, Ches; this is something new."

"I became interested years ago. I saw a robotic man at a fair," she paused, rolled her eyes in deep thought, and then sat on the floor facing me.

"It was many years ago in Berlin. It was one of the World Expositions. It was marvelous with all of the new technology. After the war, it was obvious that much would happen in the realm of technology. It was very promising after such dark turmoil."

I went back to the oil change but kept the conversation going.

"So, Ches, have you ever seen a Roomba?"

I chuckled to myself.

"No. What is this?" She said, her curiosity piqued momentarily.

"It's a robot, babe; it does the house sweeping for you, all on its own, too; you just plug it in and let it go."

"Silly man!" She exclaimed.

"True, that is a robot too, but I was thinking of robots in the form of human beings. Not practical, I admit, but still, I dream."

I was about to mention the sex robots being touted all over the internet, then thought better of it. Some things are better left undiscovered.

"There is a human element, Nick, to everything mankind creates. Robots, I hoped, would be no different. I should say there should be no difference. And, they will eventually be created so smart, so intuitive that they will want to meet their maker much the same way we do."

Maybe she had a point. I had never thought about it much past the books, and certainly not in the detail she had. We discussed all the Asimov robot books later that afternoon, and I showed her a few others on the subject of robots that I had picked up along the way.

"To me, it's life Nick, new life. It is learning to be a creator. Learning to create something larger and more important than yourself, like motherhood in a sense. I am so intrigued."

The more I got to know Ches, the more fascinated I became. It would only be a couple of months before she became credentialed here, and more than one hospital had expressed willingness to bring her on staff, and a relief that someone with her background might be available soon. In the meantime, Ches absorbed my books, music, and movies. I began to see that she was not good with downtime. You would think she would have figured it all out, but no, she seemed to be constantly motivated to be doing something. Soon, my house, like her condo back in Romania, assumed a near-sterile cleanliness. Restless was an understatement.