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Artificial Living |
| Written by Emily | |
| Monday, 30 July 2007 | |
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Share it:      “Apparently, some people spend well over five hundred thousand on it…” “I heard she spent almost two million.” She could hear snippets of conversation as she crossed the yard. A hush spread over the table as she approached and set down the tray. “This really is lovely Catherine, who taught you to entertain so well?” one of the women spoke up, trying to ease the silence. Catherine laughed on cue and answered politely. “Oh there’s really nothing to it. Just a good scone recipe and a positive attitude,” she explained cheerily. She sipped her tea and took a bite of her scone, wishing that they were a glass of wine and a cigarette instead. “Mummy!” a voice called from the door, interrupting the conversation. Catherine twisted around in her seat to face the owner of the voice. A young, dark haired boy stood hesitantly in the door, waiting to be recognized. “Not now Noah,” Catherine replied hastily as the boy stepped out into the yard. “But Mummy, I want to show you.” He moved forward, holding out a piece of paper. “I said not now, please go back inside and play,” Catherine said sternly, feeling a twinge of guilt the moment she spoke. She turned back, changing her mind but Noah had already shuffled back inside the house. It was another hour until the five women excused themselves, heading off to pick up their children and start the preparations for dinner. It wouldn’t be long now until the Cadillacs, BMWs, and various SUVs pulled into the driveways of the gated suburban neighbourhood. Catherine stood on the porch looking out over the neat landscape, the yards with scattered toys and felt empty. Noah was inside; Liam would be late tonight, what was she waiting for, a miracle, divine intervention? She rested her palm on her flat stomach and felt again the pang of longing. “Mummy!” called Noah. When she didn’t answer he called again. “Mummy!” Catherine sighed heavily. “What, Noah?” He pushed open the screen door and joined her on the porch. “I made a picture,” he said holding out the paper he’d tried to show her earlier. She plucked it from his hand to take a look. Scribbled across the top of the page in green crayon was “My Family.” Below two colourful stick people with the labels “Mummy” and “Daddy” scrawled over their head, stood side by holding hands. Further to the right a smaller figure drawn all in grey and silver stood next to the label “Noah.” “Do you like it Mummy?” Noah asked eagerly. Catherine was silent, still staring at Noah’s depiction of himself. “Mummy?” “Oh…yes it’s nice Noah,” she replied absently, handing it back to him and heading back inside with a final look at the empty driveway. Noah smiled happy his mother had acknowledged his drawing and followed her inside. Catherine made her way to the kitchen, immediately starting the preparations for dinner. Noah came minutes later and sat at the table, watching Catherine work. She glanced over nervously every couple minutes. He liked to watch her do everything, from making the bed to writing the grocery list. He would sit, unmoving for hours. She hated how still and silent he could be, found it unsettling, unnatural. “Noah,” she said finally, facing him but not looking at him. “Yes Mummy?” “Go in the front room and play.” “Yes Mummy.” He slipped off the chair and obediently walked into the next room. She watched go with a slight shudder and then glanced at the clock, wishing Liam would walk in the door, she always felt better when he was home, when there was not this pressure on her to interact with Noah. Dinner was eaten and cleaned up by six thirty. Catherine has listened to Noah chat away about various things throughout the meal, seldom responding, though he seemed not notice. Now she ushered him out of the kitchen and toward the stairs. “Time for bed,” she said as they climbed upward. “Yes Mummy.” She helped him out of his clothes and into his pajamas, went through the motions she had become so accustomed to already. “I love you Mummy,” Noah said as he settled into bed. “I…goodnight Noah,” Catherine answered, thrown a little off guard. She flicked off the light and backed out of the room, running into her husband in the hall. “Darling, I didn’t hear you come in, you’re early,” she breathed. “Isn’t it a little early for Noah to be in bed?” “He was tired,” Catherine answered curtly, pushing past Liam into their bedroom. “And I suppose you didn’t hear what he said before you left the room?” Liam said following her, loosening his tie. “We’ve only had him a couple weeks, what do you expect from me?” She turned away, fixing her hair in the mirror, watching Liam’s reflection change out of his suit. “You’re not even trying Catherine!” “I tried to love him, I spent time with him, tried to treat him as my own, but I can’t…he’s not…” she stopped, reaching for the right words. “He’s not… what?” “It’s not the same,” she finished. “Not the same?” “You know what I’m talking about Liam,” she faced him now, resting her hand lightly on her stomach. Liam sighed, somehow understanding, and moved toward his wife, putting his arms around her. “Give it time. You’ll get used to him; it’ll be like he’s our own.” He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Time,” he reminded her before leaving the room. “Time to wake up Noah,” Catherine said the next morning, walking into his room. He sat up slowly, blinking his blue eyes in the harsh morning light. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge, waiting for his next instructions. “Well come on, let’s get dressed.” Catherine said, pulling a pair of khakis and a blue polo shirt out of the closet. She stood him up, helped him out of his pajamas and into his play clothes. In the kitchen she took a bowl of cereal and a glass of juice from the food dispenser, placed them in front of him and flicked on the television to keep him busy. The holographic characters of a popular kid’s show formed and continued to do battle across the kitchen table, weaving in and out of the holographic set. Sure that he was preoccupied, Catherine keyed on the video phone and touched the number for a neighbour. “Lauren it’s Catherine. I was just calling to see if…she is? That’s too bad, her and Noah seemed to have so much fun last time. Yes, well maybe next time, hope she gets well soon. Goodbye.” She hit disconnect dejectedly mumbling “Liar,” under her breath and keyed in another number. “Tracey, hi it’s Catherine. I’m just fine and you? I was just wondering if you might be able to take Noah today, he and Jason seemed to get along so well last time, and I’d be more than willing to have them play here next time,” she said, the begging tone in her voice becoming more apparent. “Are you sure? Okay then, have a nice day.” Pushing disconnect again she sighed. No one answered at the third and final number. Catherine punched disconnect with more than necessary violence. Turning around she watched the boy at the table, listening to his hollow, empty laughs. “Noah!” she yelled from across the room. “If you don’t eat up quickly I’m going to turn the TV off.” He immediately obeyed and ate his breakfast quickly. With no one to watch Noah, Catherine stayed home, spending her time continually warding him off and organizing the office. Knee deep in papers from the filing cabinet and desk, Catherine shuffled around, frustrated with the mess. “Mummy!” Noah called suddenly from the door, making her jump. “Noah! You scared me…” she said angrily. “Look what I made,” he interrupted, ignoring her tone, holding up a jumble of Lego blocks. “Please Noah, what did I say before? Mummy is busy. Go play.” She shooed the boy from the office easily with her simple command. Looking back down at the confusion she noticed a small light blue manual. She bent down and picked it up, fully prepared to throw it into the box with the other electronics manuals. But the company name caught her eye, forcing her to flip through. Realizing it could be useful; Catherine waded out of the office and made her way into the living room. She flipped back to the last section began to read carefully glancing at the boy every so often. He sprawled out on the floor, concentration hard on the brightly coloured blocks spread out in front of him. Slowly Catherine rose from her chair, setting the manual down on the side table, and walking toward the oblivious child. “Noah,” she called softly. The boy looked up, blue eyes wide and innocent. He dropped the Lego blocks he was playing with and got to his feet. “Yes Mummy?” he said. “Turn around Noah,” she said, kneeling down in front of him. He silently obeyed, rotating to face away from him. She reached out her hand, hesitating for a second, letting it hang in the air near the hem of his shirt. Regaining her composure she lifted the shirt, revealing the boy’s pale back. Starting from the waistband of his pants she moved her fingers over his vertebrae, counting them s she moved upwards. He shivered involuntarily at the coldness of her hands. She continued, stopping every so often and pushing lightly inward. Noah stood still, not questioning, not complaining, his arms at his sides, his eyes staring forward at a picture on the wall. He opened his mouth to say something when she hit the right place. His eyes glazed over and turned grey for a moment, then sparked back to life again. “Mummy…” he started, his voice questioning. But she pressed on his spine again and this time he was gone for good. His eyes looking at nothing, his arms slack, his chest unmoving. She stood up and straightened his shirt. Smoothing out the wrinkles as she walked around to his front, She knelt down in front, her face to his, patting down his hair, letting her hand run along the side of his pale face and eventually drop to her lap. “Goodbye Noah,” she whispered, looking into his blank eyes. And even though he was gone, he seemed to be staring at something. She stood up and followed his gaze to a picture on the wall. She walked over swiftly and pried the eight by ten frame from the wall, placing it face down on the coffee table. She moved away, putting on her coat, preparing to do her errands. Taking one last look at the boy before she left, she felt a small twinge of guilt. “He wasn’t real Catherine,” she reminded herself. Liam didn’t notice the boy immediately when he came home. It was well after ten, but Noah still stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the now empty spot of the wall. He heaved a sigh and gathered the boy in his arms. “You’re late,” Catherine said from behind him. He turned around quickly startled by her voice. Her eyes flicked down to the limp body in his arms. “He malfunctioned,” she explained simply. “I’ll call the manufacturer in the morning, they can send a mechanic,” Liam offered. She stared at the boy again before answering. Sighing uncomfortably and then looking up into her husband’s eyes. “No,” she answered, turning around and fleeing upstairs, her dressing gown flowing out behind her. Liam shook his head as his wife disappeared up the stairs. He carried the boy over to the corner and set him down, slumped against the wall. As he stood he noticed the photo missing from the wall above. It didn’t take him long to find it sitting face down on the coffee table. He picked it up and examined it closely, remembering the day, that happy time. Catherine sat on the front porch, her long blonde hair left down and flowing over her shoulders. Her lips were curved up in a big smile that left her green eyes gleaming too. A pink v-neck sweater stretched over her large round stomach, matching her white Capri’s perfectly. He placed the photo back on the wall; silently hoping his wife might one day smile like that again. Slowly he knelt in front of the boy. Reaching out he pushed his eyes closed, hearing the whirring of gears inside Noah’s head. “Goodbye Noah,” he whispered. Stretching, Liam grabbed the boy’s manual from the table and dropped it next to him. Gateway Robotics would pick up and dispose of Noah in the morning. Copyright 2007 Emily {moscomment} |
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