Ty, a shift manager with an alcoholic wife, creates a female replicant in a dystopia veering toward full mechanization. For Ty, the surreal drudgery of working in a retail environment is interrupted when robotic interfaces are installed at his job...
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"What the fuck?" Ty wrestled with his wife until the gun transferred from her hands to his.
He was panting, sweaty, and his fore-arm was bleeding from Jennifer's nails having raked a path into his skin.
"Go. Now," he told the intruder, who was still crouched on the ground.
The intruder got up slowly, gave the door a glance, and ran.
When they were gone, Ty went to the door and dead-bolted it. As for the broken window, he moved a large chair in front of it. He would take care of boarding up the window tomorrow. Right now, he had a crazy, gun-wielding, gun-shooting wife to contend with.
Ty turned to Jennifer, expecting anger, but not the slap she delivered to his face.
"They came in here, and could've hurt Helia, or any of us. Of course I was going to shoot, puto."
She snatched the gun from Ty's slack hands, marching away without saying anything else.
In the morning, Jennifer didn't wake up to take care of Helia. Ty's disgust for her swelled, growing larger throughout the day. The encounter with the intruder shook him, and he understood if she wanted to sleep off the adrenaline scare. However, he got close to her neck, and inhaled deeply. Whiskey. After the break-in, Jennifer had pretended to go back to bed. When Ty was asleep, she had gotten up, and drank herself stupid. Stupid woman, he thought.
When she refused to wake up at noon, he gave up to find Damon. Someone had to take care of Helia so he could go to work.
Damon's bedroom door was closed, which wasn't a common occurrence. Frowning, Ty knocked on the door. He didn't hear an invitation, and took a chance to open the door anyway. Inside, Damon was zipping up his luggage. Had their argument affected him that much?
"Where ya goin'?" It was obvious from Ty's face he meant to ask Are you moving out?
"I've got that school trip." He slung two bags over his shoulder. "Can you move? My ride's probably here by now."
Ty stepped out of the doorway. "I-uh-when will you be back?"
"Two weeks." He flashed a harsh grin at Ty. "Stay out of my room."
Damon slammed the front door on his way out.
From the living room, he heard Helia panicking: "Mama, Dada! Don't go!"
"Daddy's here," he called.
He had forgotten about Damon's college trip abroad. For two weeks, Ty would have to find another dependable baby-sitter, because Jennifer didn't fit the description. Just for the day, she would have to do.
Ty got Helia from the living room. He walked briskly to the bedroom, aware he was late to work.
He whispered, "Let's go see Mama."
"Mama sleeping?" Helia whispered back.
The words cut him. Two constants she had of her mother: absent or sleeping. Helia deserved more.
Ty opened the bedroom door. He flipped on the lights, and dumped Helia on top of Jennifer.
"Wake up. I have to get to work."
Jennifer murmured complaints while Helia bounced on top of her. The two-year-old assumed the afternoon routine to be a game.
"Where's Damon?" Jennifer moaned.
"On his school trip."
New groans of displeasure sounded from Jennifer.
"Get up and take care of our child. I'll be back around ten 'o'clock tonight."
~*~
A/N: Dedicated to a pretty cool Ooorah buddy of mine, jinnis. Lately, I've been reading her collabrative story, Tales Between the Lines, that she's writing with another WP sci-fi badass,
