Life In, Story Out

Case and Jena sat across from their new friends, dining at one of their favorite restaurants in the Valley. They sat around a plate of sushi made of ice-cream, and ice-cream made of fish. The chefs artificed to the hilt. The food looked one way, but the tongue would not lie.

Jena asked Tina, “How long have you and Tod been going out?”

“Well, ever since we met online, or since our first date? Since our first date it’s been almost exactly three years. I didn’t know things could be perfect for three years, but so far they have been,” Tina answered.

Tod chimed in, “Did you know we were perfectly compatible in our personality test? It was amazing! The same movies. The same style. It’s amazing to find someone who truly understands you.” He leaned over to Tina to give her a peck on the cheek, but Tina saw it coming and turned to kiss him on the lips. The kiss lasted that extra romantic second.

Case squirmed in the booth and draped his arm over Jena’s shoulders. He chopsticked one of his sushis and pushed it into his mouth. He had forgotten it was actually ice-cream and brain freeze quickly shot through his skull.

Jenna touched his arm and said in their defense, “Case and I have been going out for two years. We met when we were both visiting the Library of Congress.”

She turned to Tod, and he looked at her with a bit of blankness. He was not going to kiss her. They both felt exceedingly weird. As if they needed to copy their friends across from them. Jena could not handle it any longer. She hit the eject button.

“I need to go to the restroom,” Jena blurted. She got up to sprint, but just walked slowly.

“I’ll come with you,” Tina said, and pursued Jena to the ladies’ room.

In the restroom, Tina and Jena commenced with the classic adjustment of makeup with obligatory conversation.

“So what do you think of Tod?” Tina questioned.

Jena spoke, “I think he’s quite nice. You two seem to get along so well. You’re so lovey-dubby after three years. Don’t you ever fight?”

“Not really. Everything we do works so well. We fit each other,” she responded.

“But that’s crazy. You have to disagree on some things,” Jena claimed.

“Well. The things we disagree on enhance our relationship even more. When Tod’s selfish, it brings out my maternal side. When I’m being a bitch, he just relaxes and goes away.”

Back at the table, the same conversation was occurring between Case and Tod.

“You never fight!? There have to be incompatibilities. You’re white-washing your relationship,” Case said accusingly.

Jena and Tina got back from the restroom just in time to save Case’s head from exploding.

As the two women sat down, Jena looked at their friends and said, “This isn’t going to work Case. It’s making me really sick,” she turned to Case, “We’re turning them off and going home.”

“Are you sure?” Case asked. We could try a little longer, “The therapist told us to try for as long as we could.”

“Tina. Tod. I’m sorry, but you’re going to make me vomit if you tell me one more word about yourselves,” Jena told them.

Case leaned forward and flipped the switch at the back of the each of the units’ heads. The two androids went into passive mode. Case looked at the check and mumbled humorously to Jena that Tod should pick up the tab.

The two ‘droids followed silently to the car. Case looked in the rear-view mirror at the machines, quietly blinking and staring straight ahead.

“It seemed so gimmicky, but the doctor was right,” he said to Jenna.

“Yeah. You don’t realize how awful perfection is until it’s staring you in the face.”

Fin

Note: This story was written in response to some relationship drama that occurred between a couple. It mainly had to do with heavy misunderstanding, the difficulties of expectation, and the impulse against explanation.

Just as he crossed the first hill into the forest of Dam he was beset by a bestial man. The man wore a cloak around him that looked like sheathes of flesh. It was as if the man’s clothes were grown from his very body.

The beast bellowed, “Who are you, and why are you in the land of Nod?”

Laz replied as his hand tensed around the hilt of his chain-sword, “I am Laz of Leonus. I seek the Key of Binding. I offer you no harm, and wish none from you. Go in peace, that we may be friends, lest we be enemies.”

The man stepped forward and jingled with the sound of internal metals. He thrust open his cloak and an array of knives sent showers of photons against Laz’s profile. The bravery Laz had learned in countless trials eluded him. His weakness in spirit stretched out into his viscera, and he allowed himself one tremble, who’s shadow would not exit his mind.

The man-thing spoke, “You are now but dirt under my foot, soon to be behind me lest you prove yourself in skill. Know not what you do, and die. Show me your power.”

Laz cleft a nearby tree, three feet in thickness, with one blow.

“This is not what I asked for,” cried the demon, “I said, ‘Show me your power.’”

Laz stopped a moment to think. The demand may not require potency of strength. He drew out an equation for the counting of layers in tetrahedrally packed spheres, and traced a diagram.

It shuffled forward to peer at the formula. Looking disappointed, it mumbled, “Show me your power. Or I’ll slay you. This is your last chance.”

Laz wondered if the thing was trying to distract him, he looked around for archers in the forest. Seeing only shadows, he decided to stall a bit. He asked the creature, “What is your name creature? If you have one.”

“I am Seth, Keeper of Skin, of Aludria,” he hissed. Adding curtly, “Do not stall!”

This game might be unwinnable Laz thought. He could not risk waiting any longer. Perhaps the simple state of men would satisfy. He posited, “Seth, Keeper of Skin. You thwart me in my endeavor and test me to frustration. My power lies in your conception. For you, I have no power if you refuse to acknowledge it as such.”

“You have fundamental power indeed. A clean perception is the root of power.” The flesh cloak slothed from his arms and shoulders and the creature was now solely a man. “Forgive my current familiarity and prior threats, but there have been few of late who have withstood my expectations. You are welcome in this forest. Dine with me at my abode.”

Resting his sword, but not letting go it, Laz bowed and walked forward with Seth in the darkling.

Elef tinkered with the gears of her watch. They were the gears of craftsmanship. Each golden tooth carefully molded and etched by specialized tools. She had been a watchmaker for quite some time. And now she was a master. A quick second with tweezers and Elef always had a mended watch.

Mastery comes with acclaim and status, but not with novelty. And so Elef, upon moving into a new workshop of her own, abandoned all of her watchmaking. Her wheelwork would no longer drive time, but something totally unheard of, life. To do this, she required the assistance of her daughter, Eles, an accomplished apprentice watchwoman in her own right.

First, they set about making tools of the finest ceramic. They were so small, that a microscope was needed to observe their manipulation. And after many trials, the proper metals were found for the gearwork itself. The first gear spun to life on a sleepless morning, and Elef and Eles were as they say, off to the races.

A few custom springs and wheels turned into a manufacturing frenzy. From this mechanical froth grew the first finger, so tantalizingly human it could not be denied motion and spirit. The rest was soon to come, and in a fortnight the body lay on an oak table, a pillow under its head. Only the face and heart were incomplete. Elef and Eles rubbed their eyes in sleepy anticipation. Tomorrow would bring the finish.

But Elef could not wait for tomorrow. Her creation cried out to her. This was the pinnacle of her life. Beyond this she could not imagine greater fulfillment. She ran her hand down its arm. Not an it anymore, but a her. It was warm to the touch, just like her daughter’s.

She looked across to her Eles, sleeping on the opposite workbench. Her daughter lay similar to the creature, but clutching her diamond cutter and tweezers. Elef admired her daughter’s face, languishing over the curves, and marveling over her child. Here was part of her life, in this breathing body. She kissed her daughter on the forehead and slowly drew measuring strings over her nose and eye brows.

The next day, Eles awoke to gaze upon her animated simulacrum. It walked around the room in slight disorientation. Her mother clapped happily and hugged Eles, hopping up on the table next to her daughter.

“What is this?” Eles asked in slight shock.

“I couldn’t see a more perfect face for this young woman we have made,” Eles’ mother responded.

“But her heart? We hadn’t figured that part out yet,” Eles asked, “What did you use?”

“On this part I have cheated,” Eles said in chagrin, “Months ago I figured that we could not complete her by clockwork alone. Her heart would not beat in proper time, or her mind in rhythm.”

Eles gasped, imagining a real heart in the clockwork woman, like Frankenstein’s monster.

Elef laughed at her daughters horrified composure. She quickly explained, “I have done no such thing. We’ve gone mad with toil, but not that mad. When I realized that the heart would not pump or the mind contemplate, I devised two pills containing the most complex magnetic clockwork. I swallowed these pills last night. In my heart and brain there are now two devices that drive what you see before you. As I live, so does she.”

“As I live, so does she.”

Elef and Eles both grabbed each other in total shock. The creature, it, she, had spoken.

That first day was a very long one. Their creation emerged into the next day with a name. Eledos. Elef and Eles both agreed that Eledos was a part of their family.

After this triumph, the trio decided to turn back to watchmaking. The ease at which their tempered hands and minds worked, turned their occupation into a vacation. Eledos learned their trade, and helped as much as she could. They revealed Eledos’ origin to no one, lest others mark her as abomination.

For many years, their routine was the same. Elef expanded the business and her two daughters ran the day-to-day operations. As time went on, it became obvious that Eles was bad with money. The workshop bought things it did not need, and debts would go overdue. Eledos attempted to repair her sister’s deficincies by taking on the financial responsibilities, but much damage was already done to the business.

Eles was shamed by this and spent more time away from home. At one point, she returned with a boyfriend whom Elef had not been aware of. Elef disproved immensely of the boy. Though he and Eles were very much in love, the boy was inadequate in Elef’s eyes. Over him, Elef and Eles could not agree. In a bitter argument, unmendable words were spoken, and Eles ran from the house in tears. Elef and Eledos did not see Eles the next day or the morrow after. And Elef refused to pursue her.

One night, as they prepared dinner, Eledos saw her mother looking at a knife dangerously. On impulse, Eledos placed herself in Eles’ vacant seat when they sat to dine.

Elef served her daughter soup, saying, “You’ve always been so good to me. You run the shop with such expertise. So good with your tools. So much business sense. Thank you, Eles.”

Eledos accepted the kiss on the head and said nothing to contradict.

Nothing was heard from Eles for seven years. And for those years, Eledos would sit in her sister’s seat and her mother would always acknowledge her as Eles. But one day, a letter arrived in the mail which confused Elef greatly. It announced the marriage of her daughter to a man she had never heard of. Eles could not have had time for a courtship. Eles was with her every night at dinner, and every day in the workshop.

She barged into Eles’ room. “What is this about?” she asked and handed the letter to Eledos.

“I do not know, we must go and see,” Eledos replied, “This must be some cruel trick.”

The wedding was in two days, in the town of Leto. The day after receiving the letter, they departed for the wedding. Elef was in a terrible huff that someone would claim such a thing. She expected there to be no wedding in Leto. Perhaps a note with more mockery.

As they approached the city, Elef could see a celebration in the town square. Someone was having a wedding. Elef whipped the reigns of their carriage, sending the horses into a gallop. She put the wedding straight in her sites and charged forward with great anger. At the last minute she stopped the cart. She leaped from the carriage even as it was skidding to a halt. Elef drilled through the crowd with her eyes, looking for the perpetrator of the sham wedding.

She found her daughter, standing in white, with the boy of her dreams. He was not really a boy, but a man. And her daughter was no child either. This was immensely confusing for Elef. If her daughter was at this wedding, who was in the carriage? She turned and looked at Eledos emerging from the cart.

It was all too terrible. This was not her daughter. It was not her daughter. Eledos loved her. It cared for her. But it was not her daughter. Elef wondered how her daughter had tolerated the doppelganger so long, or how Elef could have made her in the first place. It was so unforgivable.

Elef reached into her pocket for a magnet she carried. She touched it to her heart and head, and Eledos sprawled onto the ground, collapsing into a dust-cloud of microscopic gears.

Elef felt so ashamed. She hopped into the cart, not looking at her daughter or the other guests. She looked for the reigns to beckon the horses to leave. As Elef looked between the horses, she saw her daughter standing with the reigns.

Eles’ husband stepped to the side of the cart and extended his hand.

Eles spoke, “Mother. You’re invited.”

He rubbed her thigh and looked straight into brown-black eyes. One streak of dyed-white hair dropped across her face. A small stud in her nose glinted. He wanted to eat her alive.

Elius snapped his head forward as they twisted down the mountain road. She wrapped his hand over his, his wrapped the shifter, and they drifted through the asphalt milieu. The car roared with a sound that defied all would-be roadkill, and screamed into the ear of every man of the law.

Once, his life had been dull. Perhaps the car commercials had worked their magic, and caused real life to bend to fantasy. Maybe it was the neon-spitting purple fluorescence that emanated from the lines of the vehicle. He glanced back at her and knew what made the difference.

The wrong corner for the wrong turn matched the second of terror as they both observed each other. It was late. It would not be long. He unbuckled, reached over, pressed her lips into his. A tear bled her eye shadow.

The car, flipping through space, plummeting to the earth, might make you think that life is tiny and inconsequential. Elius pressed the gas for effect.