Junkyard Pirate

by Jamie McFarlane

"You don't say," AJ said, transferring his stick to the gas pedal. "Maybe it's time for that ice cream after all."

  "Yay!" Diego cheered as the car bumped out into the street and accelerated.

  AJ was exhausted when the two pulled through the bent gate to his junkyard with a carload of electronics and building supplies. He drove straight back to the machine shed and parked in front of the partially open door.

  "Pull that door all the way open. We'll unload later," AJ said.

  "Okay," Diego said, jumping out of the car.

  "Diego is a hard worker," Beverly said, having reverted to her standard jeans and white blouse. "He does not seem to be off put by your irascible nature, either. You should offer him further compensation to stop by tomorrow."

  "What's tomorrow?" AJ asked, waving at Diego as the boy slid the large door to the shed open.

  "We will create the survey device I spoke of," she said. "The presence of Fantastium would be a considerable boon to our mission."

  AJ drove forward and stopped next to his long workbench. "How about you put all the bags onto the workbench and then you can park the car back by the truck," he said, grinning at the surprise on Diego's face. Beverly had been right. After eating a greasy burger, his mood had improved substantially.

  "You're letting me drive?" Diego asked, excitedly.

  AJ shrugged. "How you gonna learn otherwise? Just try to avoid hitting anything expensive."

  Diego rushed to the trunk, extracted AJ's wheelchair, and brought it around for him, expertly locking the wheels. "I have to get going pretty soon. Momma will have dinner and she gets mad when I'm late."

  AJ nodded. "Come by the house when you're done parking and I'll have your pay."

  "Thank you, Mr. AJ."

  AJ wheeled out of the machine shed and across the packed dirt to his home. As he passed the dumpster, he noticed the top wouldn’t close due to overflowing bags.

  "We'll need to call the trash guys to come pick that up," AJ said, mostly to himself.

  "I'll arrange that." Beverly hovered in front of him as she pulled a pencil out from behind her ear and jotted down a note.

  "You really get off on changing your appearance, don't you?"

  "I have spent decades pasted to the side of space debris. I find humanity's expression of individuality quite refreshing. Surely, you wouldn't deny me a small pleasure?"

  "Hey, wait!” AJ had caught the edge of his TV sticking up out of the trash. “They threw away my TV? I still use that! What kind of shit is this? You can't throw someone's crap away without asking!"

  He pushed at the chair's wheels and steered to the ramp. His eyes fell on the front porch, now devoid of its ordinary clutter. "I feel I should explain." Beverly smiled brightly, having changed her outfit again. She now wore a provocative mid-calf dress that was white with bright red polka dots. AJ blinked. He was pretty sure her bust size had increased and more cleavage than usual was on display.

  "Explain what?" he huffed, the exertion of the ramp wearing on him.

  "Terrie, the Sparkles' representative, believes she was directed to significantly reduce the clutter within your home."

  "Directed by who?" AJ asked.

  "I might have responded to a phone call while you were visiting with Doctor Stern."

  "And they just did whatever you said? Shouldn’t they have talked to me? That's my stuff!" he pushed, ire rising.

  "I disguised my voice to sound like you. Don't be angry, AJ. Your home was cluttered and not functional. I have resolved this." She leaned forward with her hands pressed together and smiled innocently.

  "If you think your innocent act will work, you're nuts! Dammit, this is my house!" he yelled. "What in the hell!"

  AJ rolled into his front room which had been all but cleared out. The only remaining furniture items were his kitchen table with its two chairs and the end table that used to sit next to his missing recliner. All that was left on the table was the cigar box in which he held his cash. In a rage, he raced back to the master bedroom only to discover just the bed and dresser remained. A neat pile of folded clothing sat on the bed. He checked the second room, and found that the same minimalist choices had been made.

  "I have scheduled delivery for a chair more suitable for rest," Beverly said. "It took some doing, but it will arrive in two days."

  "Where the hell am I supposed to sit until then?" AJ asked, yanking open a door on the built-in cupboard. He reached up to the shelf where his .38 Special revolver sat and relaxed when his fingers found the gun. He left it on the shelf and closed the door. "How am I supposed to watch TV? Crap lady, you're messing with my life!"

  "Change is difficult, AJ," she said as she pulled her hands behind the fabric of her dress and sat on the arm of his wheelchair.

  "Did you know you got a Phantom Quad Copter?" Diego burst into the kitchen with a large, shrink-wrapped box under his arm. "Wow, what happened in here? It's all … empty."

  "Put the damn toy on the table," AJ snapped. "It's expensive."

  Diego's face fell under the withering assault. "I'm sorry," Diego said, barely holding it together.

  AJ grimaced and wheeled over to the end table in the middle of the room. He opened the cigar box and extracted two twenties. "Why don't you beat it, kid," he said with less anger, holding out the money.

  "He's never going to come back if you keep yelling at him," Beverly straightened up and waggled a finger.

  Diego carefully placed the quad copter onto the table and hesitantly approached AJ.

  "I'm just tired, kid," he said, waving the money. "I won't bite your head off."

  Diego looked at him, not completely reassured. Reaching out, he grabbed the money and ran from the room.

  "Come back tomorrow if you want to work," AJ called after him.

  "You need to work on your social skills," Beverly said.

  "Hell, woman, you gut my house and you're worried about me yelling at the neighbor kid?" AJ said. "There's a baseball game I wanted to watch tonight."

  AJ opened the refrigerator. He didn't say a word even though he felt a certain amount of shock. The interior was spotlessly clean, not to mention stocked full of fresh food. He was surprised to see a bottle of his home-brewed beer. He wouldn’t have bet on anything alcoholic being left behind in Beverly’s gut job. He grabbed the beer and looked around for a bottle opener.

  "Top drawer to the right of the sink," Beverly said. "There are forty-two baseball games available through available sources. "

  He opened the drawer and at the front, he found a bottle opener. He sighed as the cold liquid hit the back of his tongue. "Dodgers."

  "The score is 0-1 in favor of the Diamond Backs at the top of the second inning."

  The sound of cheering filled AJ's ears. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a projection of the baseball game on the wall of his living room. "What in the heck?" He set the beer in his lap and grabbed the thick sandwich someone had made, covered with plastic wrap, and left front and center in the refrigerator.

  "I believe this is the game to which you referred. Would you prefer to watch live or I could start from the beginning?" Beverly was now wearing a Dodger's jersey that hung loosely over her jeans.

  "No, this is fine." AJ wheeled to his table and set the plate atop. He marveled at the crisp detail of the projection and looked for its source. Understanding dawned on him. "You're projecting this?"

  "It is not such a stretch," she said. "What you perceive as my being is merely a projection."

  "Hot damn," he said and took a long draw on his beer.

  AJ awoke the next morning thinking of his deceased wife, Pam. He hadn't slept in their bed since her death and he marveled at how he could still smell her perfume on the bedspread after so many years.

  "Good morning, AJ," Beverly said softly, sitting on the nightstand next to his bed. "It's seven fifteen and we have a big day ahead."

  AJ nodded. "I'm starving. And, why do I always have to pee like a racehorse?"

  "Your body store
s an excess of fat cells," she said. "I've been converting that fat into much needed energy."

  "While I sleep?" He shuffled himself into the chair next to the bed and rolled to the bathroom.

  She allowed him the illusion of privacy. "Very much."

  "Why the pee?" he said, relief evident in his voice.

  "Fat cells store a considerable volume of water."

  AJ lifted his shirt and inspected his once bulbous belly. While he still had a small tire around his waistline, his middle was considerably smaller than it had been at the time of the accident. He pinched at the skin and was surprised at how springy it was.

  "You will need to increase your caloric intake today," she said. "You ingested twelve hundred kilocalories yesterday. We need to double that and focus more on proteins, calcium-rich food and less on sugars."

  "Sounds like a lot of work."

  "I considered your likely response," she said. "I've created a schedule and was able to identify foods that are easily carried."

  "Let me guess. You'd like to get out to the shop and get cracking on your survey tool?"

  "It is an exciting day," she said, her visage changing to that of Rosie the Riveter. On her drafting table, she rolled out blueprints. As AJ focused on the table, it zoomed toward him and the drawings became readable.

  Distracted, AJ poured a cup of coffee and turned back to the drawings. "This isn't that bad," he said, visually tracing the diagrams. He pointed to a section of the drawing. "Not sure what that is though."

  "The standard detection chamber is, of course, unavailable on Earth," she said, unrolling a second sheet atop the first. "We have supplies to make a primitive chamber. It's not perfect but should be good enough for an initial reading."

  AJ set his cup on the virtual table and released it. It crashed to the floor. He looked at Beverly with an embarrassed grin. "Guess that's not real."

  "It is my fault," she said. "I should have made the table translucent so as not to confuse the situation."

  As AJ turned, the outline of a broom and dustpan showed on the pantry door. He knit his eyebrows and scooted over to the closed door. Sure enough, the broom hung from a hook next to a dustpan.

  Sweeping up the debris, he noticed the outline of several items appearing on the refrigerator door. "Let me guess. Breakfast is in the refer?"

  "Yes, AJ. I calculate that if we operate at peak efficiency, you will complete the survey device late this evening."

  "I'll need to get the dog," he said, pouring a second cup of coffee.

  "I have arranged a car service to pick him up this afternoon."

  AJ wheeled out to the machine shed and slid open the door. Diego had left the light on but otherwise, he'd neatly unpacked the supplies onto the counter. "Where to start?" AJ said, mostly to himself. The drafting table reappeared and on it was a pad of paper with a neatly lettered list of subprojects. "Ask a stupid question …"

  Eight

  Survey Says

  AJ rolled to the machine shed's dusty refrigerator and withdrew one of the few remaining English pale ales. It had been months since he'd brewed a batch. He sighed as he considered how difficult home brewing was going to be without the ability to stand.

  "You are making good progress, AJ." Still in her Rosie outfit, Beverly sat in an aluminum lawn chair that had faded orange woven straps stretched along the frame for support.

  AJ looked across the workbench and tipped back the bottle. He'd had several setbacks as he soldered, ground, tapped and welded on the mysterious device. Her words didn't line up with the progress he was seeing. "It's two in the afternoon and we're not even done with the first item on your list."

  She held up a highball glass filled with a bright red mixture and topped with an umbrella. "My estimation of pace was incorrect. I miscalculated your dexterity and the time lost to moving around in the inefficient vessel to which you're bound."

  "I'm sorry my wheelchair is such an inconvenience for you," he dryly retorted.

  "I am, too," she said. "You will be ambulatory, but it will require patience from both of us."

  "Wait, what?" AJ set his bottle on the table and riveted his attention on her. "Ambulatory? As in, walking?"

  Beverly knit her eyebrows together. "Of course, Albert Jenkins. What other purpose would you see for the changes I've been effecting in your body?"

  "Well, doesn't that just beat everything," AJ said. "That's why you're stuffing me full of all that junk?"

  "That junk you're referring to is the most efficient means available. If we had access to a Galactic medical facility, you would be repaired in hours, not weeks, although there are other benefits to our bonding," she said.

  AJ nodded. "Like watching baseball games on a giant screen?"

  Beverly pursed her lips, disappointment obvious on her face. "Yes. Like that."

  "What else you got?" AJ asked, suddenly interested.

  "You're receiving a call from Doctor Stern," she said.

  AJ looked around for his phone but didn't see it. "Phone," he said, running his hands down his legs.

  "Say hello, Albert Jenkins," Beverly said.

  "Hello?" AJ said, making it more of a question.

  "Albert, this is Doctor Stern from Morgan Veterinary. I've an update regarding the stray you brought in," he said.

  AJ looked over to Beverly who now sat in front of a fifties-era phone switchboard, wearing a headset and holding a long wire in her hand. "Um, sure. How'd he do?"

  "The shoulder surgery was successful and I'd like to keep him for the weekend to run a course of antibiotics," he said. "I'm afraid the news isn't all good."

  "I see," AJ said. "Before you give it to me, can you tell me if he is chipped?"

  "He is," Stern answered. "We were unable to reach the owners of record. Apparently, they are no longer in the state."

  "So he was dumped," AJ growled.

  "That's how I see it."

  "What's the bad news, Doc?"

  "No easy way to say this. Cancer has spread to much of his body," Stern said. "I'm not sure if continued treatment is warranted."

  "What more do you have to do?"

  "What I'm saying is, that while he's sleeping, you might consider euthanasia. It would save you considerably as we have yet to treat his other issues."

  AJ slumped. "Is he in pain?"

  "Without medication, he would not be comfortable."

  "And there's no treatment for the cancer?"

  "Nothing practical, given his condition," he said.

  "I just don't like that his last memories are of being dumped and forgotten," AJ said. "Too many of us like that out there."

  There was a long pause on the line before Stern started again. "We could clean him up. You could give him pain medication for a few weeks before delivering the final medicine."

  "You'd let me do that?" AJ asked.

  "It's a common enough practice," Stern answered. "Are you sure you want to go through this for a dog you've only known for a short time?"

  "I do."

  "Very well. Call Monday afternoon, I'll keep him comfortable."

  "Appreciate it, Doc," AJ said.

  "You hide your compassion well, Albert Jenkins," Beverly said, pulling a wire from the phone bank.

  AJ drained his bottle and set it to the side. "Let's get back to work."

  "What in the hell happened in here?" Darnell Jackson's voice broke AJ's concentration.

  It was Sunday afternoon and AJ was putting the final touches on the survey device he'd been slaving over for most of the weekend. Unlike the tidy workspace he'd started with, his workbench was filled with food packaging, empty bottles, varying lengths of discarded wires, and other junk.

  "Shit, you could have warned me." AJ's eyes locked on Beverly as he looked up from the soldering he was completing.

  "I told you last week I was coming over for the game," Darnell said, "but I stopped in your house first and you don't even have a TV. What in the heck, AJ? Are you going batshit on me?"

 
AJ touched the soldering iron back to the circuit he was finishing up and blew the smoke away. "Nope, just got tired of all that crap in my way. Decided on a clean slate."

  "You didn't even keep your recliner," he said. "And did you know there's a kid nosing around your front gate?"

  "Mexican kid? About yay tall?" AJ asked, holding his hand level with his own eyes.

  "Yeah, that's him."

  "Diego. He’s been helping me out. I might have scared him off," AJ said.

  "Well, doesn’t look like the scaring off stuck. Who ran into your gate?"

  "Look, I'm kind of wrapped up in this project. I was just going to listen to the game on the radio," AJ said.

  Darnell walked over to the bench, looked over AJ's shoulder and whistled. "Damn, son, that's serious, beautiful-mind stuff there. Now I know you're off your meds."

  AJ chuckled and set his soldering iron down. According to the plan, he had about an hour left to finish the survey device. "Why don't you make yourself useful and go get that kid. Tell him I've got a job for him."

  "Sure. That's not creepy," Darnell said.

  "It's okay, he's already cleared it with his mom," AJ said.

  "You sure everything's all right?" Darnell asked. "You look different. Smaller. Are you eating enough?"

  AJ glanced at the pile of food wrappers and plates. In the last three days, he'd nearly eaten through three hundred dollars of groceries and couldn't imagine the number of calories he'd consumed. "You think I'm starving myself?" He nodded at the pile. "Get Diego, I'll have him clean it up. Tell him if he does a good job, I'll let him fly my quadcopter. That should get his attention."

  "You have a quadcopter?"

  AJ pointed to a charcoal-gray device at the end of his workbench. It had taken most of Saturday afternoon to manufacture the mounting bracket that would marry his survey device to the consumer-grade quadcopter.

  "What's going on, AJ?" Darnell asked. "What are you into?"

  AJ patted the arm of his wheelchair. "Just tinkering. Keeps my mind off the iron horse here."

  While they'd been talking, Darnell had worked his way over to the refrigerator and discovered it was dangerously low on beer. "How about this for a plan. I'll talk to the kid and then make a beer run. You finish up your project and tune in the game."