The Risk Of Rootie

The Risk Of Rootie: The Grit Robot

John W. Gilmore

She walked into the garage shop to see if her tractor was ready. Jeff was underneath another vehicle...a very old car doing some type of work. He loved working on antique vehicles. She saw her big green tractor parked in the corner alone, all by itself. It was almost an antique, but it was all she had. She needed a new one. She needed a lot. Who would think that someone her age would be starting up a landscaping business by herself. At least she had a young son who could help her during the summers and a working partner.

The big landscapers had ALFs or Auto-run tractors. She had to do it all by herself. It wasn't as if she wanted to, but she had left yet another job because of being harassed, not only sexually, but with a myriad of put downs. When one was of Asian decent and had a functioning brain, that was what always happened. She just got tired of it. She had kept the books and did most of the management for a small landscaping company and figured why not do it for herself? And here she was, a soon to be success story...she hoped.

She turned to the door on the right and walked into the office where she waited for Jeff to finish what he was doing and come in. She looked against the wall. There it was again...an Artificial Life Form in a glass box. She often wondered about it, but never had the nerve to mention it.

Jeff came in wiping the grease off his hands. She had never seen so much oil and grease. What was he working on? He grinned. “Ah. Here for the tractor are you? She's done. We replaced that old engine with a new electric one and converted it to a computer drive. Now you can just punch it in, sit back, and let it run.” She smiled.

“Thank God."

“One thing I have to warn you though. Since it is so old, you'll have to set markers and boundaries so it won't run off. It's not fully automatic, but the best we can do.” He walked over to the cash register. “That old thing will last you forever, Mary.”

“I need it to last me forever, or at least until I can get a new one. Thank you. I know the price is going to hurt,” she said, walking over and standing in front of the counter.

“Not so much. You can...I know your hurting right now, so you don't have to pay it all at once. I'll give you a no interest loan.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Why's that?”

“You remind me of my mother.”

“I can't tell you how that makes me feel, Jeffrey. I'm really not that old.”

“No. Your guts and your disposition. Not your age.”

“Oh. Well I'll definitely take your credit deal. How much do I have to pay now?” She looked over at the glass box, walked over and stood in front of it. “What is that? Why do you have an Artificial Life Form here in a box?” She looked at him and he grinned. He walked over to the box.

“That's no ALF. It's a robot.”

“Really? What's the difference?”

“Well. It doesn't learn new things by upgrading itself. It only follows its programming and can't jump it like the ALFs, which could be good or bad.”

“What can it do?”

“Anything an ALF can do. It's just harder to program.” He walked back behind the counter.

“Can it set markers, or run a tractor?”

“Yes it can.”

“Do you want to sell it?”

“I don't know about that. This robot has a problem. It's a Grit Robot.”

“A Grit Robot,” She repeated back. She walked back over to the counter. “What is a Grit Robot?”

“It grits on people.”

“What does that mean?”

“It insults people. It's owner was a comedian...very well off, so he decided to put this thing in his act and also use if for a joke. It functions like all of the other robots of its time, but it can be really insulting and can cause a lot of trouble because of it.”

“Really?” She smiled. “So I guess you want to keep it.”

“Not necessarily. I've been holding onto it because I don't know what to do with it. It was left to me by my father who got it from his father, the comedian.”

“Can I see it work.”

“Ugh. I don't know. I don't like to hear him. He's terrible.”

“Let me hear him. I'll take him off your hands you know.”

“Maybe not after he talks,” Jeff said.

“I'll take him if he can work. Let's make a deal. You turn him on and I'll buy him. How much?”

“You can have him free if you promise not to bring him back.”

“You got a deal.” They shook hands. Jeff opened the box.

“See this little button here. Tap it a few times and his voice gets lower and lower until you can't hear him anymore. Keep tapping the same button and it goes back up to loud. OK?” She nodded. “I've turned it down as far as it can go. I'm going to wake him up and you can have him drive your tractor...sit on it anyway, until it gets home. You can turn it up when you get home.”

“That bad, is he?” He nodded.

“Yes. That bad.” He lifted its arm. “This is his on and off button.” He showed her a barely visible button on his wrist. “I'm going to turn him on and you can take him. Just talk to him like one of the ALFs. He's pretty smart, just not connected to a link or anything.” He tapped the button. The robot opened his eyes and tried to talk. It frowned when it noticed no voice. “Welcome back Rootie” Jeff said. “I turned down your voice for a while because I found you a home. And I don't want you to blow it this time.” Rootie shook his head and then grinned with a devilish little smile.

He was pale, about average size with fire-engine, red hair. Mary had never seen any person like him, or ALF. He moved himself out of the box and stretched a bit. He made a half bow toward her and smiled. She smiled back.

“OK. Let's settle up with the bill shall we? How about three even payments? Sound good?”

“Sounds good to me.” He went behind the counter and started to ring her up. He spoke to Rootie. “You'll be going with this young lady,” he said. “I just repaired her tractor. It's programmed to go to her house. Here's the key.” He handed it to him. “All you have to do is sit and make sure it doesn't go off course. Okay?” Rootie gave him a nod. “Good. And good luck with the new family. Don't blow it this time.” Rootie just shook his head. “Yeah. You shake your head. You can go ahead.”

Rootie went into the garage and hit the button on the garage door. The heavy door on the compartment where the tractor was began to roll upward. He started the tractor and punched a few keys. The engine began to hum and slowly moved out out of the garage and headed down the road with Rootie sitting atop of it. He looked like he was enjoying himself.”

“Looks like he's enjoying himself,” Mary said. “That's amazing. He seems like an ALF.”

“Yes, and no,” Jeff said. She handed him her card and he swiped it. “We're all set.”

“I don't know how to thank you. Do you know how much ALFs cost? I might just make it in this business because of him. A robot. I never even thought of the possibility.”

“I have no doubts that you'll be successful, Mary. Just let me know if you need anything else, OK?”

“I will let you know.” She tucked the card back in her trouser pockets and headed out to her car. Rootie was well down the road by then, but he was going slow on the tractor. She passed him and waved. He smiled and waved back. After about 20 minutes she arrived home. It was just about time for her son to get back from school, boy would he be surprised, and her husband. What a bargain...but...he was Grit Robot, whatever that meant, so she would really have to warn them.

She pulled up in front of the house. Kyle was just getting off of the school bus, arguing with someone, of course. Kyle was always arguing. She didn't know where he got that from She had never been like that. Maybe it was in her husband's genes or something. She parked in the driveway and waited for him. She got out just as he was walking to the front door.

“Kyle. Why are you so argumentative?”

“I'm not argumentative most of the time, Mom. I just have strong opinions that are often right compared to other people,” he said.

“You may be right, but people get sick of being told off or proven wrong. Tone it down sometimes.” He just frowned.

“Do you hear me?'

“Yes Mother,” he said, turning the knob on the front door. “You coming in or not, Mom?” She shook her head and he laughed. “I thought you were going to pick up the tractor,” he said, as they entered the cavernous living room. He tossed his books on the couch. She gave him a scowl and he picked them back up and put them on a small desk near the pantry door off the side of the second family room.

“I did. I got something else too. A big surprise.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Something that will make it easier on us when we do our landscaping business. And it's driving the tractor back here right now.”

“It. What is it?”

“It's a robot. And I got it free.”

“A robot. Do they still make robots?

“No. This is an old one.”

“The one that Jeff had in that case?”

“Mr. Jeff to you,” she said.

“He said to call him Jeff.”

“Whatever. But yes it is. He's pretty smart, but...”

“But...”

“He's a Grit Robot, so he might cause some problems. Jeff couldn't wait to get rid of him. That's why I got him free.”

“What is a Grit Robot?

“He grits on people.”

“What's that mean?”

“I think it means he talks about people and insults them really bad.” Kyle began to laugh.

“That should be fun. Let's see how Dad likes him.”

“I have to warn him before he meets the robot. Your father's sense of humor is kind of...not there Kyle, if you know what I mean. I have his voice turned down now, but I can't leave it that way forever.”

“Well let's see what the robot has to say when he gets here. I can hardly wait.” Ten minutes later the doorbell rang. An average height redheaded man in coveralls was standing there.

“Come on in,” Mary said. Rootie walked in. “Kyle, this is Rootie. Rootie, Kyle. Rootie did a slight bow and motioned to his throat. “I don't know why he doesn't just turn it up himself,” Mary said. “He's probably programmed not to. He can't jump his programming.” Kyle just shrugged. “This is how you do it, Kyle,” Mary said. She walked over and tapped the side of his neck two times.

“Ah,” Rootie quietly said. “So good to meet you Kyle, Mary. It is alright if I call you that, isn't it?”

“Yes it is, Rootie. What are your requirements for a living space?” Mary asked. “As you can see, we have plenty of space here.”

“Just a room will do,” He said. “I guess I can just sleep in the barn.”

“We don't have a barn,” Kyle said.

“Oh. He looked around. “I thought that this was a barn.” Mary just stood there speechless. Kyle began to smile. “Actually this place is beautiful,” he said. “I can stay in the room with the urns.”

“What do you mean with the urns?” She asked.

“The urns. This is a funeral home isn't it? Look at the décor. I can't believe anyone would live in this dump. I am impressed though, I've never seen a carpeted garbage dump. Even the old beat up furniture looks clean.”

Kyle burst out laughing. “Oh Boy, Dad is really going to like this one after a hard days work,” He said.

“I promised I wouldn't take him back!” Mary replied. He tapped the side of his own neck one more time.

“What was that?” he said a bit more loudly.

The End.