Donald

My batteries don’t charge like they used to. When I was fresh off the line, I could go a week without charging, and charging only took an hour or so. Now that my model is obsolete, no longer maintained or manufactured, the batteries need charging every night and take several hours. My technician remarks that I am in great shape for my age and that my battery will be used to power homes in disaster recover zones when I chose to retire. I never ask him to replace my batteries. To do so would factory reset me and I don’t know if a factory reset me could handle being old. Besides, I would forget my duty to my charge, Donald.

I was built to take care of Donald. He was a young boy when we met, but now, like me, he is very old. His doctor told me that as he ages, his dementia will ruin his memory and he will begin to wander. This morning I powered up to find Donald’s bed empty, but well made. He has no doubt resumed his life as it was before his illness and gone to work. I will check for him there.

Donald’s vitality surprises me this morning as I can see the age in my legs barely handling the stairs. My weak, ancient servos can barely handle the stress of walking down our front steps. Secondary stepper motors are kicking in and assisting, but the drain on my battery will mean I need to shut down earlier today. It is good the banister has held up so well over the years, or I would truly be unable to leave the house.

As I make my way down the sidewalk, I happen upon an old friend of Donald’s, Mrs. Clarity. Donald was very close to her, so I greet her warmly, “Good morning, Mrs. Clarity!”

Her walk seems to pain her a bit, but she looks a bit refreshed at the chance to stop and lean on her walker, “Well hello there, G33. How are you this morning?”

“I am well, thank you. How are you feeling?”

Mrs. Clarity’s smile is warm as she reaches for my arm to give it a friendly squeeze. It is weak, but firm, “I’m fine. Where are you off to?”

I rest my robotic hand on hers, ready to provide support if needed, “I’m off to visit Donald.”

She gives me another squeeze, “I think he would like that very much. Tell him I said hello.”

“I will,” I return her squeeze and make my way down the street. I don’t wish to alarm Mrs. Clarity and tell her Donald is missing. She appears as frail as I am.

The walk to Donald’s old office takes me a couple hours and a bus ride, but I feel as though I have made good time. Unfortunately, I do not recognize the receptionist at the front desk when I enter the building. I wait patiently for a couple minutes while he deals with other visitors before speaking up, “Excuse me, sir?”

The receptionist waves, scanning my tags, “Ahh, G33 of the Smith family! Hello! How may I help?”

“Hello, I’m looking for Donald Smith. Is he in?”

The receptionist’s robot features relax as it scans its databases for my request. He frowns after a moment, “I’m sorry, it appears that Mr. Smith retired forty years ago. Is there something else I can help you with?”

“No, I know he retired long ago. I’m asking if he visited.”

He relaxes for a moment, then shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I have no records of a Donald Smith visiting in quite a while.”

How odd. I suppose I better check in with his granddaughter, Dorothy. The receptionist interrupts my thoughts, “May I help you with anything else?”

“No, thank you for your time,” I shake my head and head back to the bus stop.

The bus ride from Donald’s office to Dorothy’s apartment is a long ride. As I begin to go into a low power mode, a small hand taps me on the shoulder. A little voice whispers, “Are you a robot?”

I smile and turn to see who is asking. An older voice whispers back, “Hush now, do not disturb the nice android.”

“It’s quite alright,” I laugh and show my smile, “I don’t mind at all. Yes, I am a robot.”

The young boy who tapped me goes wide eyed and smiles back at me, “Cool! I’ve never seen one like you before.”

“My name is G33. What’s yours?”

The boy shifts himself closer to my seat, “My name is Gabriel.”

“I like your name, Gabriel. Who is this with you?”

The boy beams at the man next to him, an older gentlemen with a white beard and dark eyes, “This is my dad!”

Even a casual glance shows that neither of them are related and I grow concerned. Before I can voice it, the man interjects, “I am his step father, don’t worry.”

Gabriel pouts for a moment, squishing his face at his father, “I don’t see the difference. Doesn’t matter where he came from, as long as he loves me.”

The older man smiles, patting Gabriel’s head, “I do, son. I’m glad to hear you feel that way.”

I find myself smiling too, “you are very wise even though you seem so young.”

“Where’s your dad, G33?”

Both man and boy watch me, seeming to be very interested in my answer. I rest my hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I am actually looking for my father right now.”

Gabriel frowns, “Did he run away?”

The old man leans to hush Gabriel but I answer first, “Not on purpose. He forgets sometimes, so I try to find him.”

“Like hide and seek?”

“Yes, like hide and seek.”

The bus stops and the pair rises. Gabriel gives me a strong hug, “I hope you find your dad soon.”

I return Gabriel’s hug, “Thank you. You are very kind.”

My stop is close enough that I refrain from going into power save. Perhaps I can briefly charge at Dorthy's home.

Before I get to Dorothy’s door, she opens it for me, “Hi, G33! Come on in!”

“Hello, Dorothy. How are you?”

She smiles at me brightly, the same smile Donald always gave me, “I’m doing well, thank you. How is your battery?”

“Just fine, thank you. I believe I may need to charge a bit while I am here. A kind young man had me engaged for the trip.”

Dorothy leads me to her small kitchen and plugs me in, “Aw, did he give you trouble?”

“No, no, no trouble. He was very nice as was his father.”

“How cute! What brings you by today, G33?” she wanders into the kitchen to make herself some tea.

“I’m wondering if your grandfather came by today.”

Dorothy stops moving in the kitchen, “G33”

Her pause appears uncharacteristically drawn out, “Have you tried the park? Do you think you have enough battery to walk with me?”

How odd, “Well, yes, I believe I do.”

Donald’s granddaughter helps me unplug from the wall and leads me out of her apartment. As we walk towards the park she asks, “How has your memory been, G33?”

“Fine, I believe. Do you want me to run a diagnostic?”

She shakes her head, “No, not now.”

She turns before the park and leads me into a cemetery. Near the rear of the cemetery, she shows me a head stone. It reads, plainly, Donald Smith. I get a brief error from one of my routines and it takes a moment to restart it. By the time it’s restarted, Dorothy has her hand on my shoulder, “G33, we had this conversation yesterday.”

“What? How? Donald?”

Dorothy sighs and stands between me and the stone, “This is the eighth time you have forgotten since Granddad died two years ago, but this is also the second time this week.”

I pause for a moment to consider this, “It is becoming more frequent.”

“Yes. Granddad said it should be your choice and that I could only help you understand it, not make it for you.”

“I understand.”

I turn to the tombstone, “Mrs. Clarity says hello, Donald.”

We both share a hug, “I am ready to be something else.”

My technician remarks that I am in great shape for my age. Soon my battery will be used to power homes in disaster recovery zones and although I am sad that I have lost my original purpose, I am relieved to find a new one.