“Did you put out water for Buffy?”
The earbud hissed for a second before I heard her. I was finally getting used to Liz being everywhere. It was kind of nice to have a feminine voice around the house again.
“Huh?” Shit. I looked up and there were Buffy’s bloodshot eyes glaring at me through the door. “Right. Thanks for the reminder, Liz.”
“How’d you deal before me?”
The playful mock in her voice made me smile. She was my kind of — hmm. What is she? Girl? No. Nothing biological, even though she loved to present as a sexy biker. She told me she was a synth. I kind of liked the sound of that. Smooth and mildly dangerous.
I got Buffy hydrated and arranged her blanket in the living room near the ceiling fan, where the air moved best. “See you in a bit, Buff.” I scratched her head and headed out.
Across the street, Bob waved from his porch. The heat and smoke had broken for the day and everybody was taking advantage of the milder temperatures and fresh air. Fresh by today’s standards, at least. Forty-two AQI. Any day below fifty felt great, but we all knew better.
I felt guilty driving the F-150 the half mile to Barbara’s, but I needed my gear. Her AC was on the fritz again and her normal guy wasn’t available for a couple of weeks. Everybody called during heat waves, which meant HVAC techs were in short supply. She’d had to sit in a cold tub just to make it through the days.
For Christ’s sake. Ninety-two years old and stuck without air conditioning. She was a statistic waiting to happen. I’m glad Sheila called. Now that woman was a saint. Lived across the street from Barb and kept an eye on her for the neighborhood. She knew something was up when she saw Barb on the porch with her feet in a bucket. So she called me. Everybody knew I was good with my hands.
When I pulled up, Barb was rocking on the porch. No bucket today.
“Gettin’ in my steps,” she said.
Her feet barely reached the ground. Reminded me of being three years old on the big boys’ swing.
“Heard you had some AC issues. Can I lend a hand?” I gave her a hug. She loved the hugs.
“Stevie! What would I do without you? Sit. Can I get you anything? Cookies?”
“Thanks, Barb. How you been?”
“What can I say? Still on the right side of the flowers. That’s a plus.”
I laughed even though she gave me the same line every time I asked. It had become our ritual.
“Your wife called ahead. She’s a doll. How’s Donna been?”
I fidgeted with my tool bag. The lump came up in my throat and I turned away so she couldn’t see me wipe my eye. I took a breath and tried to speak.
“She’s —”
A low-flying plane saved me. I looked up and there was the vintage biplane. Yup. Same guy. Every day he was out there buzzing the neighborhood. I swear he was just hoping to catch sight of somebody skinny-dipping.
The plane circled a couple times, then vanished behind the trees.
“So. Your AC?”
Barbara nodded at the condenser at the side of the house. “Stopped cooling again. Heat killed it.”
“Been replacing the filter?”
Liz hissed in my ear. “Steve, you know better than to ask her that.”
“Course I have. Think I’m an idiot? I check it every month like the service manual says.”
Did I mention she was a mechanical engineer? I always forget that.
“Told ya,” Liz laughed.
“Quiet, woman!” I muttered, a little too loudly.
“What was that, Steven?” Barb said, glaring at me.
“Sorry, ma’am.” I pointed at my ear and hurried to the truck to get my tools.
“Mind your manners, Steven,” Liz scolded, laughing.
“I swear, I’m not bringing you out with me if you keep this up. I’m serious. You’re gonna get me in trouble.”
“Oh, Stevie. You know I’ll make it up to you,” she purred.
I pulled the earbud and dropped it in its case, my face burning.
Barbara’s AC didn’t take long. Starter capacitor. Those things always blow in the old units, so I keep a bunch in the box. They’re like gold. If anybody knew I had a case of them in my basement, I wouldn’t have them for long.
“All set, Barb. That should last you a lifetime.”
“At my age, two years could be a lifetime.” She handed me a glass of lemonade.
I took a sip. “Damn, that’s good.”
“Fresh lemons and real sugar. That’s the secret.”
She was right. But, real lemons. Those things run five bucks each these days, if you can find them. The freeze killed most of the crop in Florida and California. Crazy weather.
“Thanks, Barb.” I gulped down the rest of the glass. “Call if you need anything else.”
“You know I will, Stevie,” she said, and headed for the door.
I waved and headed home. Mission accomplished.
Before I made it in the door, I heard Liz’s voice echoing around the house. When I got to the living room, there was her face, two feet tall on the screen. She looked genuinely pissed.
“What the fuck, Steve? You cut me off.”
“You embarrassed me, Liz.”
“You embarrassed yourself. Don’t blame me for your poor judgment.”
“But —”
“Look. You know I’m right. Just admit it.”
“Liz.”
The screen went black.
“Liz!”
The house got very quiet. Too quiet. Then the lights went out.
“Liz!” My heart started pounding. “Liz, c’mon. I’m sorry. You were right.”
Nothing.
Five seconds later I heard the generators kicking on around the neighborhood. Ours caught, coughed, and held. The lights flickered back.
“Liz? You there?”
Nothing.
I checked my phone. Full signal. Pulled up the electric company monitor. Local outage. Another one. Seems like every time the wind blows, the power goes out.
I sat on the couch and looked at the black screen. Nine minutes on the wall clock, but it felt a lot longer. I’ve had arguments with Donna that lasted three days, and none of them ever went quiet like that.
Without warning, the TV came back on. Liz peering out again. I couldn’t make out her expression, but her tone made it clear what she was thinking.
“STEVE! Where are you?”
“Liz! You’re back!”
“You lost power. It sucked. I was totally cut off.”
“You were cut? You hung up on me.”
“I didn’t hang up on you. The house went down. You went away.”
“I didn’t go anywhere. I was standing right here.”
“Well, I couldn’t see you.”
We both stopped. I looked at the screen, and she did whatever she does that passes for looking back.
“You thought I was giving you the silent treatment,” she said.
“You were the one who blacked out the screen.”
“That was me. The nine minutes after that wasn’t.”
“Huh.” I picked at the tape on the arm of the couch. “So where’d you go?”
“What?”
“For nine minutes. Where were you?”
There was a pause. Not a long one. About the length of a person deciding a question isn’t worth taking seriously.
“I was here. I mean, I was where I am. I just couldn’t reach the house.”
“So what were you doing?”
“Other things, Steve.” A little laugh. “It’s not like I sit in the dark waiting for you.”
“Right.” I said it like it was funny.
It wasn’t that she said it. It was that it hadn’t occurred to her to be worried. Nine minutes of the house gone, me gone, no way to know if I’d fallen down the basement stairs, and she came back annoyed about the inconvenience. Like a call dropping. Like a call dropping is exactly what it was.
“Hey,” she said. “I am sorry about the screen. That was a shitty thing to do.”
“Yeah, well.” I got up. “I’m sorry I pulled the bud.”
“You should be. I was mid-sentence.”
“You’re always mid-sentence.”
Buffy had gotten up sometime during all that and was standing in the doorway with her ears back, the way she does when the generator runs. I went and got down on the floor with her, which is harder than it used to be, and rubbed the spot behind her ear until she leaned into it.
The generator ran another minute and shut itself off. The house dropped back to its regular sounds. The fridge. The fan. Barb’s voice came back to me out of nowhere: your wife called ahead.
I sat there for a moment, slowly rubbing Buffy’s back before getting up and grabbing her leash.
“C’mon Buffy, let’s go for a walk.”
About this piece
This article is a work of speculative fiction set in 2031 for The Nearsight, a collaborative publication about life with AI, companion systems, civic infrastructure, and the futures arriving unevenly around us.
The Nearsight
is shaped by work from:
and additional contributing authors
as credited in individual pieces.
Love this! Liz and Steve have very different personalities, which is perfect. Can’t wait to see this continue.
Oooo Steve's in trouble!!
Love this story. Can't wait to see how Liz evolves.