by Rik Thompson
The boy opened the back door of the car and tossed in his back pack, closed the door, opened the front door and launched himself into the front seat next to the girl.
“I’m headed to California, L.A.”
As they rolled down the road west, they talked a myriad of subjects, and sometimes the boy was lost and confused in the contents of those topics.
Her name was Abra. He introduced himself.
“Dad named me after Mother,” she explained, “who is a fine woman in every sense of the term. She really has only one issue with me – didn’t like it one bit - when she sent me into my room to do homework, and I would slip out of my window and go and hang out with the boys down at the bayou.”
“Bayou, what’s that?”
Abra laughed. “You don’t know what a bayou is? You aren’t from around here, are you?”
“No, I’m not.”
Abra exited the freeway at Lake Charles, and at that point was only three minutes to her house. She said nothing to the boy as she pulled into her driveway, and there only mentioning it in passing.
“Well, here we are,” she announced.
The boy wanted to know where.
“This is my abode, why, did you want to get off somewhere?”
The boy just gave her a dopey look.
“Just think,” Abra started, “would it be totally grave of me if I drove all these miles with you, had such stimulating conversation with you, and not invite you to dinner, would it?”
The boy shook his head, “You – you just answered a question with a question?”
Abra smiled, “I am like that. In any case, come on in and make yourself comfortable.”
The boy stepped out of the car and looked around. He saw the tattered roof with the missing shingles, the lawn all bleached out from the sun, and the cream-colored stucco house the woman called home.
Abra walked ahead and finding her key to the house on the key ring, unlocked the door.
The boy followed Abra into the living room, and the boy immediately knew that he was no longer back on the Moon in a module.
There was plush aqua green shag from baseboard to baseboard, and as the boy let his gaze run into a hallway, he could see it there as well. Red Corinthian leather next dominated the boy’s focus as it moved to the furniture. It was a sectional which wrapped around the room, with an accompanying lounger. In the middle of it all was a great oak coffee table with drawers, and a green – themed lava lamp radiating globs of wax in all shapes and sizes. There was a bookcase full of books, and colorful nature paintings adorned the walls, except in one area where there were numerous photos covering that section of wall.
“Sit, sit, and make yourself at home. Do want something to drink. I want to get these travel clothes off ASAP, but before that, what about a drink?”
“Water,” the boy said.
“Okay. Wait a minute, are you sure...no, you’re not. You are not from around here. You really don’t want water. I have beer, milk, iced tea, Dr. Pepper…”
“Beer,” the boy guessed. “I don’t want to put you out, I mean, you already have taken me further than anyone else ever has.”
Abra started toward the kitchen, “Don’t worry about it. See that is what is wrong with this country, everyone worries too much.”
The boy sipped his beer, sunk into the lounger while Abra disappeared to the rear of the house. The beer was bubbly to the boy, and he noted that it popped against his tongue as he sipped it.
Must be C02.That would account for the production bubbles.
Abra undressed, and stepped into the walk- in closet. She pondered the young man sitting in her living room. He seemed strange, but yet, he did not. It was almost like he crashed landed here from another planet, as far as she was concerned. The simplest of conversation had him lost at times. Maybe drugs? No. She knew one thing for sure - her curiosity would never allow his departure until she figured out, the what, and the wherefore of the man.
The boy was out of the lounger and roaming around the room. He skimmed the room as he walked. He knew he needed to do better with his conversation. Then he wandered over to the photos on the wall.
Some of the photos were black and white, and he figured they must be older than the colored pictures. One thing was evident; all the pictures were of people in uniform. People dressed in uniforms with badges on them. He was just spotting Abra in a couple of shots when she came into the room.
“I see you found the wall of fame,” she said as she came up from behind.
“Yes, quite attractive,” he replied as he turned around.
Abra stood calmly dressed in a button down the middle blue robe, not buttoned at all. Her breasts were just peeking out of the robe. The boy was stunned with a foreign sensation rendering him speechless, then his gaze enveloped the young woman’s body taking in the blond, bushy wedge of her sex, down to her naked toes, and then finally, his gaze settled upon her breasts.
“What did you really think of those photos?” she asked.
“Uh, nice, very nice.”
Abra coyly smiled. “Now, are we talking about the photographs on the wall, or my breasts?”
“Breasts?”
“These,” she replied spreading her robe apart and allowing her breasts to tumble out into full view.
Book studied the creamy white globes a brief second, and then looked away. He felt it unkind to gawk at her body. “I noticed the bulge to either side of your chest not long after I got into the car with you. I found it fascinating that you were so different than I was.”
“You mean you don’t know the difference between a man and a woman? This is unbelievable.”
She stepped right up to the boy. “Here feel these,” she said as she took his hands and placed them on her breasts. “These are known as tits.”
Book took his hands and gently squeezed her tits, and then he quickly pulled up his shirt. “Are these tits too? Why aren’t they big like yours?”
“Because I am female, and you are a male. Here, look down here. See, nothing at all compared to what you have. Take your pants off.”
“My pants? You want me to take off my pants?”
“Sure do. How can we make a comparison if you don’t take off your pants?” Abra asked.
Book undid his pants and stepped out of them.
“My, my, my, what a piece of meat you have there, Book,” she said as she reached out and took his cock into her hand. A few strokes and his dick stood straight out.
“This is my appendage used to pass waste out of my body.”
“Yes, but it has other purposes. That appendage, as you call it, is a cock, and we will explore those other purposes together.
“See, you and I are very different.”
But why it was that way was the next question the boy put to the woman. Abra took the boy by the hand and led him to the bedroom where she dropped her robe and sprawled out on the bed.
“See, the recess between my legs, in other words, no cock? That is where your appendage, as you call it, goes.”
The boy stood there, cock at an erect attention; fascinated, perplexed a bit by the whole situation.
“Come here, climb on top of me, and put your cock into the recess between my legs,” she said, pointing to the cranny between her thighs. Wait… a better word for it would be pussy. Climb on top of me and put your cock into my pussy. And then we will be doing what we call, fucking.”
· * * *
They lay together side by side on the bed, sweaty, satisfied. The boy turned to Abra, “I want to do that again.”
Then the doorbell rang.
“Well I am surely glad that didn’t happen five minutes ago,” she said as she got out of bed, grabbed her robe and headed for the front door. The boy smiled.
Now who could that be at this hour?
She ran to the door, started to open it, but instead peeked through the sight glass. She automatically noticed that there were two Population Control Board agents at the door.
; Shit, it all is starting to make sense now.
“Just a minute please. Let me get some clothes on, and I will be right back.”
She darted back into the bedroom, and hurried into the walk-in closet. There she opened a drawer on a chest and took out a small hand held scanner, flipped a couple of switches on the device, heard the scanner emit a shrill beep as the LED screen came to life. Adjusting the screen with a potentiometer like knob on the left-hand side of the screen, she zoomed into the display with another joy stick like device until she had zeroed right into her neighborhood, and then the house. Sure enough, there was a small blinking dot right in her bedroom.
Damn, I am harboring a fugitive from the PCB.
She took the scanner in one hand, and grabbed a medical blanket, made of high-density metal flakes in her other hand, as she departed the walk-in. Carefully she folded the blanket over, and then over again and dropped the blanket over the boy’s left foot.
“Don’t move an inch, “she said, “I will be right back.”
She took a quick survey of the scanner to see if the blinking dot was gone. It was. She hurried into the living room and opened the door.
“Sorry to bother you, but there is a fugitive in the area, and from the take on the information of our devices the trail leads right to your house.”
“Oh. Well I work for the local police department here, just back from vacation, and there is no one but me here. Maybe your devices are malfunctioning, could you check them devices again for me and see?”
“Certainly, we can do that.” They both energized their scanners. Nothing.
“Funny, they were just going nuts a minute ago.”
Abra smiled. “See, no one here but me and the mice. But if I see or hear of someone, I will be letting you know.”
After the agents left Abra rejoined Book in the bedroom. He was still on the bed covered in the blanket.
“We have a lot to talk about, for now we have to get that chip out of your foot.”
“Chip in my foot – what do you mean?”
“Shortly after you are born, and in accordance with the World Health Organization, all children are required to have a micro-chip implanted in their foot. This chip has specific details about the person inputted into it and with the aid of this device,” she said as she handed him the scanner, “it can also be used to track an individual. The chip in your foot sent a signal, and the agents from the Population Control Board showed up at the door”
“And that explains why you placed this blanket over my foot, to cover up the signal?” Book asked.
“Yes, so stay there, and don’t move, and let me get my doctor bag, and we’ll get you free of that monitoring.”
Abra disappeared back into the walk-in closet. Book yelled out, “But what about you, don’t you have a chip in your foot?”
“No,” she replied as she returned with a black bag, “I am a cop, so I don’t have one any longer.”
She opened her bag and took out a scalpel, a syringe, and a solution in a small vial.
“I’m going to deaden the area, make a small incision, and get that thing out of you.”
She jabbed the syringe needle into the vial of fluid, and withdrew ten ccs, and reaching back into her bag she pulled out a small electronic instrument much like a wall board stud finder. She told the boy to hand her his right foot, and scanned the bottom of the foot.
“Not in there. Let’s try the other one.”
She scanned the bottom, middle portion of the left foot until she heard the beep, and then marked the exact area with a black marker.
“Okay, there will be a small prick,” she said as she drove the needle into the bottom of the boy’s left foot.
She waited a good ten minutes for the deadening effect of the drug. The boy reached up and kissed her.
“Thank you, for taking care of me,” he said.
She cut into the left foot where she marked. “Tell me, how did you get yourself into this predicament?”
As she worked on the extraction of the chip the boy began to tell her his story. He told her of his growing up on the Moon. He told her about his quest to find his origin.
In less than five minutes she dropped a tiny micro-chip wafer onto the floor and stamped it out with her foot.
“We won’t be needing this cover any longer now.
“So, in other words this whole adventure of yours started out being a quest for your identity, or origin?”
Then the boy spoke of Donnie. “He was my friend; even so he was a first-generation robot, or a better term, humanoid.”
He told her of the education that the robot and the educators at the base taught him.
“But then, as I got older, I began to think about where I came from and how I came to be. Donnie even began to wonder where he started out and he approached the engineer that built him. He came back to me and explained his origin.”
“And no one ever told you that you were born, and had parents?”
“I had never seen a woman, did not know what one was. I had never had creation explained to me. I mean, I had a degree in science, in biology, and chemistry, yet no one ever mentioned to me how I came to be. Even my friend, Donnie did not have creation programmed into his memory banks.”
“That’s terrible, and it is just not right. Didn’t they know that one day you would find out?”
“No, I was destined to stay on the Moon for the rest of my life, and never know these things. But how does creation happen in the first place?”
“What we did just now.”
“What do you mean, when you took the chip out?”
“Abra grinned. “No, silly man, creation, or as we call it here on earth, procreation begins when you and me fucked.”
The boy smiled. “That was the greatest feeling of sensations that I have ever experienced.”
Abra went on to explain love as best she could. She went on to tell the boy about the commitment two people make to join in marriage and to have children. When the boy asked her if she thought he came to be here on earth, she enthusiastically agreed.
“So, two people together, create another? Out there somewhere there are two people who made me then. I wasn’t created like Donnie.”
“You were created by sex, and are a direct product of it,” Abra said as she stroked the boy’s blond hair.”
“Wait, you mean we have just created another human being, through fucking?”
Abra smiled. “I surely hope not. That would get us ten years in a federal prison.”
“Then, the two that created me, my parents, have went to prison?”
· * * *
Abra went to the bank and drew three hundred dollars out of savings and gave it to Book. He thanked her and told her not to worry. When he found his parents, he would contact her again, and only then, as he did not want to cause the woman any more hardship. He said his goodbyes, and she dropped him off at small café just outside town. He exited her vehicle with renewed hope and purpose in life in that the search and resolution to his origin may just come true. Inside the café he sat at a booth, ordered a cup of coffee that was also foreign to him, at least until Abra introduced him to the beverage as a venue in social interaction. He took out his tablet while sitting there, sipping on his cup of coffee, and began to write:
Thanks to the grace of a woman, known as Abra, I have learned so much about life in such a short time – seems more than I have ever learned all my life. I am a human being, the product of love, and passion between two people of the opposite sex. Though I know nothing about these things, I know who I am now, well at least where I started – in a womb of some woman who gave birth to me. I don’t know her name yet but I intend to find out. I wonder why I was abandoned. What happened that would make me start life alone? Though I know very little about the human race, I do know there is something called love now, and that it leads to the creation of a human being, me.
I miss my friend Donnie, and I know if he was with me, he would do anything in his p
ower to help me locate my parents, as I know they are called now. I feel as if I need to seek him out, and get him back with me, no matter the stakes. He is my friend…
THIRTEEN
Within the first few years of its rise to power, the World Population Control Board created many fugitives, fugitives that would never be apprehended, as these would founder in their attributes, and lose themselves into society free of the penalty of prison, but with numerous other castigations … Keith Senne Historian
DUTCH TOWN, LA
Sylvie Robers sat waiting in a small office, at the Dutch Town City Hall. It was a half hour wait before Abra Simmons came through the door. She ushered the woman into a seat across the desk from her.
“We had reports that you were harboring a fugitive. I want to know if this is the truth, or were you lying?”
Abra studied the face of the accuser. “I am not too sure what you are driving at, Miss.”
“You know full well at what I am driving at Miss Simmons. Our scanners indicated that you had our fugitive in your presence, and somehow or the other you disguised that. I want the truth from you, and I want that truth now.”
“Or what? What can you do to me? I have hidden no fugitives from you, and you have not one speck of evidence to support your claim. Now if that is all, I have a beat to see to in my district.”
Robers was mad, and you could tell by the look of consternation on her face that she was fed up with the woman’s lies.
“Yes, there were agents from your department at my door, but when we checked, and rechecked the scanners there was nothing. We all agreed that – “
“I don’t give a damn what you agreed on, you know damned well you had that boy in your house, and if I have to take that badge from you, Abra, you will provide the information on the boy.”
· * * *
Book stepped off the Greyhound bus on Loyola Avenue, New Orleans. He knew it would be quite dangerous to backtrack to where the agents of the WPCB had blasted down his friend, yet he was determined to get his friend back. The first line of business would be to find the module, just under the right shoulder panel of Donnie that would bring the robot back to life.