Robot Soul

By James Fink

Published by
The Empty Canoe
New York  Denver  Seattle

www.emptycanoe.com

ISBN: 0-9749933-1-X

All Rights Reserved, Copyright 2004, The Empty Canoe

Chapter 3

Murder

 

Friday, the day of the murder

The weather was overcast, the clouds had moved slowly in on the unsuspecting neighborhood. Linda had finally realized that her relationship had decayed beyond repair and had decided to pack and leave right after work. She didn’t talk to anybody about it, fearing that somebody would tell Frank. She had a one-hour window between the time her shift ended and the time Frank would get home. She had thought about it since the night Frank had knocked her from her chair and she’d watched blood drip from her lip onto her freshly scrubbed floor. She’d finally laid out her plan that Friday morning. The clock ticked so slowly during the day that she was certain she’d never make her escape, but her shift was over now. She headed toward Veronica’s school, amazed at how cool she was. Veronica stood waiting for her mother in her usual spot, watching the other girls play jump rope. Linda bustled Veronica into the car and hurried home. She now had less than an hour to pack and try to explain the getaway to her daughter.

When they stepped through the front door of the brick house, Linda turned to Veronica and dropped to one knee, putting her hand on her daughter’s cheek and said, “Veronica, listen to Mommy for a second. You and I are going on a trip for a while. Just you and me, Daddy has to work. I want you to go to your room and put some things you want to bring in your bag. Be sure and pack your favorite toys.”

“That’s so cool Mommy, but what about school?” Veronica loved vacations, but her mother had taught her the importance of school.

“Mommy already spoke to the principal, Honey. It’s all set and we can leave today. Right now if you hurry,” Linda placed a hand on Veronica’s back and nudged her toward her room.

“Can I bring Buford?” Veronica begged.

The BTX20 was in the kitchen staring intently at a burnt out light bulb. Linda knew Buford could expand his arms, but this time she wondered how he was going to reach the lamp since it hung from the ceiling more than six feet above his head. Linda shrieked in shock when the robot extended his arm with a snap, grabbed the bulb, and twisted it out. Even Veronica stood with her mouth wide open, watching Buford’s clamp turn a full three hundred and sixty degrees. Neither had ever seen him extend his arm that far before.  They were unaware that Buford could, in fact, extend his arms up to ten feet.

“Buford needs to stay here, Honey, and keep the house clean. Come on, we need to get going now. I’ve made reservations at a hotel, and we can’t check in too late.”

Linda knew she would have a lot of explaining to do later. Right now the priority was to leave as soon as they could. A drop of perspiration trickled down her forehead as she packed her bag. Her heart was pumping harder by the second. With a quick glance at the clock, she realized she only had a half hour left before Frank arrived.

She didn’t know that Frank was already in his old car and headed toward home.

Frank had left work early in the afternoon, making the excuse that he felt sick and had to go rest. What he really did was spend the afternoon warming a stool at the local bar and spending his not-so-hard-earned money on beer. As he drove into the driveway half an hour earlier than he usually did, he thought about what excuse he’d give Linda for his early arrival and hoped she’d have a hot meal prepared to satisfy his huge appetite. He parked his car behind Linda’s, stepped out, and headed towards the wooden front door.

Linda heard the familiar noise of Frank’s car and her heart tumbled into her stomach. Her heart couldn’t beat any faster as she looked through the curtains. Her hands slicked with sweat when she saw him step out of the car. Veronica came back with her bag full of her favorite toys, neglecting to bring any clothes. Linda tried not too panic, but she knew her plan had failed and Frank would surely see what she’d been about to do.

“Quick,” she told Veronica, “Run away, Baby! Get out of here! Now!”

“What’s wrong, Mommy? Aren’t we leaving on a trip?” Veronica froze at the note of terror in her mother’s voice.

“Please, Veronica, go now! Mommy will explain later. Please!” Linda begged.

Veronica did the only thing she knew how to do when her mother sounded so frightened. She grabbed Buford and hid in her usual spot, her closet. Linda didn’t see where Veronica had gone because her eyes were glued to the front door. As she watched the door swing slowly open, she thought about how big and heavy the wooden door was. Frank’s breath was intolerable as he tried to kiss her. When Linda pulled away with fear in her eyes, he realized something was wrong.

“What are you doing, Linda?” He didn’t smell any dinner cooking and realized she’d broken from her usual routine—a routine he thought she loved. 

“Nothing, Frank. I--I was going through my stuff. You know, I could use new clothes.” Linda gestured toward the couch where she’d quickly tossed some of her favorite clothes. She struggled to keep her voice light and cheerful.

Frank looked toward the scattered clothing. Then he saw the luggage on the floor. “Are you thinking of running away from me?”

Linda battled the tears starting to form in her eyes. She didn’t want to be hit. Not again. Not ever again. Frank was moving menacingly closer to her, his anger building inside him until he thought it would burst from the ball that had taken root in his stomach. No one had ever left him in his life and he’d be damned if he’d let her be the first. Looking around the room for some sign that he might be wrong, he saw a small pink bag lying in the hallway. Veronica’s favorite teddy bear was sticking out of it. He had bought her the toy on the day she was born.

“You’re taking her, too?” He threw Linda to the ground and headed towards Veronica’s bedroom.

Linda scrambled to her feet and tried to hold Frank back, screaming at him to leave her daughter alone. Frank, who towered over Linda in size and strength, easily broke free. Losing her grip on Frank, Linda fell roughly to the floor, causing her to hit her head against the corner of the wall.

Though the hallway was about five feet wide, it wasn’t very long. He paused to look at the family picture hanging at the end of the hallway. It had been taken a year ago, using his Christmas bonus to pay for the several copies Linda had wanted to give to friends and family. His lip curled when he thought about how it was all about to end.

He tried to calmly call for Veronica. When no response came, he began screaming “Veronica!” louder and louder. Veronica was shuddering in her dark closet, clinging to Buford as hard as she could. She’d heard her daddy yell many times, but he’d never screamed at her. The top of her head flashed green and then dark repeatedly as Buford’s processing light blinked faster and faster as though he were trying to analyze the situation.

“I’m so scared, Buford. Please don’t let Daddy in here. Please protect me, Buford,” she whispered.

A shadow appeared in front of the closet. Frank remembered his daughter’s favorite hiding place. He tried to open the closet door, but Buford had somehow positioned himself so that the doors couldn’t be pushed open.

“C’mon, Veronica, please open the door for Daddy,” Frank said in as mild a voice as he could squeeze past the ball of anger in his stomach.

“No, Daddy. I won’t,” Veronica squeaked.

After a few more attempts to cajole Veronica into opening the door, Frank grew annoyed with his daughter. He pushed at the door harder, but to no avail.

Veronica watched her father’s shadow disappear. She let out a sigh of relief. She knew her daddy wasn’t a patient man and that he would abandon his attempt to get to her easily. But this time Frank came back in a fury and smashed the lower corner of the closet door with his feet. Veronica screamed, calling to her mommy to come and help her. Linda summoned all her courage and got up. After a few runs at the door, Frank grabbed the broken corner and pulled as hard as he could.

“Come out now, Veronica. Daddy wants to speak to you and Mommy.” Linda was running through the bedroom door behind Frank and straight at him.

Those were his last words. He never saw death coming since his attention was focused completely on his little girl huddled on the floor, trying to make herself invisible. Buford moved in front of Veronica and threw his arm out to its full length of ten feet. Buford hit Frank directly on his sternum with such force that the sound of the bone cracking was heard throughout the house. Frank’s expression was of stunned silence as he fell to the ground. Blood soaked the rug, half hiding the clown with the blue balloons. Linda’s mouth was wide open, looking at Frank’s dead body lying on the floor of her little girl’s room. Frank’s own gadget had murdered him.