Chapter 4
I’d only been to an airport once before, when Father was taking me home from New York to San Francisco. Maybe I wasn’t as observant then as I am now, but I don’t remember it being so wild. People in the airport were running around everywhere, some screaming at each other, some standing at the gates and crying. It was all an interesting sight, and if I had emotions, I would probably say it frightened me a little.
It really was like being in a jungle. Me, the adventurer, trying to find my way out, as vicious animals eyed my every move. While looking for my gate, I accidentally bumped into an elderly man, and he quite literally barked at me. Very much like a jungle, indeed.
As I waited for my plane to arrive, I did some exploring, and observed the humans in their natural habitat. I sat at a small café, drinking coffee that was much too sweet and overly expensive, when a couple came in and sat at the table in front of me. I tried not to be obvious as I watched them. The young woman, probably in her mid twenties, had curly red hair in tight ringlets and wore a lot of makeup. The man who I assumed was her boyfriend looked like he was in his twenties as well, though he was slightly more heavy-set and his blonde hair looked like it was beginning to recede. The woman laughed at something the man had said and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a red lipstick stain. They were all giggles and whispers as they kissed each other and wound their fingers in each other’s hair.
Eventually, the woman whispered something in the man’s ear before giving him a quick peck on the lips and got up to walk to the bathroom. The man watched her walk away with a small smile on his face the entire time. He ran a hand through his balding hair, and looked over a menu. After a moment’s consideration, I picked up my coffee and walked over to him. I sat in the chair that the woman had just been sitting in. He glanced up from his menu, looking puzzled and slightly uncomfortable.
“What’s it like?” I asked him.
He looked around the room, eyes wide, before returning his gaze to mine. “What’s what like?”
“You know,” I urged, leaning towards him. He leaned away from me. “Being in love.”
He narrowed his eyes at me then. “What—were you watching us?” He asked. He sounded upset.
I looked at him innocently. I didn’t understand what he was getting so hot and bothered about. I just shrugged. “Yes I was. Are you going to answer my question?”
He made a noise of disgust and returned to looking at the menu. “Beat it, perv.”
I frowned. Well, he was being rather rude, I thought. I just asked a simple question. But I did as I was told. I picked up my coffee and walked out of the café.
Everything was constantly moving here. The conveyer belts carrying people’s luggage. Large suitcases rolling across the floor. People shuffling through the security line. Children spilling the contents of their sippy-cups onto the tile. I took another sip of my coffee and wondered if that was the key to humanity. Constant movement. Humans never seemed to just stop and look at things.
I tossed my coffee into a trash can. If I’d had real teeth, I’m sure the sugar would have rotted them down to the core by now. I returned to my gate, where the absent plane was now twenty minutes late, and sat down at an empty seat.
I pulled Father’s folded up letter out of my pocket, and I just stared at it. I weighed it in my hands. I turned it over, looking at the ink smudges and the crinkles in the paper. I thought about how strange it was that you can be alive and kicking one day, and then the next day all that’s left of you is a piece of notebook paper with blue ink scribbled on it.
“What’s that?” I looked up, seeing no one. There was a tap on my thigh. I looked to my left, and there was a small child leaning over the armrest that separated our seats and staring at me. She smiled, and I saw that her two front teeth were missing.
“A letter,” I told her simply.
“From who?”
“My father.”
“Ohhh.” She nodded, and rested her head against one of her tiny hands. She continued to stare up at me, and I stared back. Then she continued, “Do you love him?”
I blinked at her for a few seconds. I didn’t think that I should bother telling her yes, well, no, I mean, it’s complicated, you see, I’m a robot and therefore incapable of love, seeing as how I don’t have a soul, but Father has always been there for me and so in a strange way I think I do love him, but I’m not sure…
I pursed my lips. “Yes. I do.”
She nodded excitedly. “I love my daddy too,” she exclaimed. I frowned, but nodded. And then I thought of something. I looked down at my hands, almost embarrassed to ask this.
“Can I ask why?” I inquired, fiddling with my thumbs.
She put a finger to her lips for a moment, then grinned at me toothily. “Because he calls me princess, and he makes me pancakes, and he reads me bed time stories, and, and, yeah, I love him a whole lot.”
“And that’s all?” I asked dubiously. “That’s all it takes? You love him because he makes you pancakes?”
She shrugged.
“Well, what does that mean, then?” I asked. “If any old stranger made you pancakes, would you love them too? If I made you pancakes right now, would you love me?”
The little girl giggled. “Love doesn’t work like that, silly.”
I wanted to ask her more, but a really thin woman came running up to us then, a look of embarrassment on her face. She tucked a lock of short blonde hair behind her ear and looked at me apologetically as she scooped up the child.
“I’m sorry about that,” she smiled nervously. “Come on honey, let’s go.” And before I knew it, she was trotting away. The child waved at me from behind her mother’s shoulder, and I waved back. I looked out the window then, and I saw that the plane had just touched down. Everyone waiting at the gate stood up and began to gather their things. As I picked up my suitcase and got in line to board the plane, all I could think about was how much I was craving pancakes right now.