Grandma Robot Page 2

  “You're right about her being so lifelike,” Karen said slowly as she gave the robot a closer inspection. “Her face is so animated.”

  “Henie is good to go like she is,” Amy said proudly. “We've been working on this experiment for several years. Being lifelike is what we wanted so the robot maid bought to work in a home wouldn't be so obvious to visitors.”

  “I've got news for you. This robot will stick out like a sore thumb,” Karen declared.

  Amy back tracked. “Perhaps, this one would. What I want is for you to give her a try to see if she works out well. Her personality shouldn't stop her from doing the daily chores we have programmed into her. We don't have time to reprogram her now that you're here. If you will please take Henie home, we can revamp her personality and voice when we bring her back to the lab.”

  “I don't know if I want to get involved. This might turn into a time consuming project I don't want to waste my time on when I have my book about finished. I need to concentrate on my writing,” declared Karen. “Besides, this might be an experiment that will go down the tubes fast when people find out how much one of these things cost.”

  “Henie and the others are pricey to start with, but once people buy a robot like this one, I can explain to them they don't have to worry about other expenses. She can't eat and doesn't need to be paid wages. The expenses will be a new change of clothes once in awhile, and a new battery every five years.”

  Karen looked very concerned. “The word pricey scares me.”

  “Why?” Amy asked.

  “Are you sure if she breaks down you won't expected me to pay for her parts?” Karen asked.

  “Of course not, silly. Henie is just an experiment at this point. We need to put her to work so we know what to look for if problems come up which I really don't anticipate. If she has a weak part that needs fixed, we need to know before we put her on the market.

  You can call me any time. I'll send a tech out to repair her at no cost to you. That way we can perfect the robot to be even better than we think she already is.

  That's where you come in. You put her to work and tell us what we need to do to make her perfect.

  I do need to caution you to remember to be careful how you talk to her. No more calling her it, thing or creature. She can show emotions like humans so don’t hurt her feelings. She smiles, cries, and looks sad.”

  Karen's face scrunched up. “Really? Sounds more and more like a giant doll to me. I had a doll once that wet her pants when I fed her a bottle.”

  Amy didn't find that particularly amusing. “That won't happen with one of our robots. Don't try forcing anything down Henie's mouth. She isn't able to intake so there isn't anything to come out.”

  “That's good to know, but why do robots have to have emotions to be able to do their jobs as maids?” Karen scoffed.

  “Remember we're trying to make them as lifelike as possible so only the owners know they are a robot. We need her to fool visitors into thinking she's human,” Amy explained.

  Amy was trying hard to make this sound easier than Karen thought it was going to be. There had to be problems Amy wasn't sharing. “Does she ever have an attitude problem or refuse to do a job she's asks to do?”

  Amy shook her head. “No, she can handle any situation concerning a household. That's what has been programmed in her as a priority. You won't find any attitude when you give an order. This robot will automatically obey and do the task. What will be of interest to us is will she automatically do tasks on her own without being told. That's what we'd like her to do.”

  Karen still wasn't so sure. “You will see to it a different outfit is sent with her if I take her? That teenage girl look gets on my nerves. That isn't the way maids are supposed to dress if you're going to try your sales pitch on buyers.”

  “That's an accurate assumption. I told you there's a spare outfit in the satchel already. How about it, Karen? Will you help me? Try Henie for me,” Amy pleaded.

  “Okay, just for you, I’ll do this against my better judgment. How long do I have to keep her?”

  “I'll be checking with you occasionally to see how things are going. When you and I think the kinks are worked out of Henie, I can bring her back to the lab. This phase of the experiment shouldn't take more than four weeks. You don't mind me coming out once in awhile to see how she performs? I'll call first. I promise,” Amy assured her.

  “Fine, you know you're always welcome at my house. In fact, I was going to invite you out anyway to see where I'm living now. So enough of the sales pitch already. Box her up,” Karen said.

  Amy laughed as she picked up a journal from the table and handed it to Karen. “Henie doesn’t need a box. She can ride in the car with you just like any other passenger. Fortunately for you, she isn't the nervous type like most humans would be. When she experiences for the first time how you drive, she won't get the least upset. Just don't ask her for an opinion of your driving or your housekeeping. She's programmed to be honest.”

  Karen pretended offense at Amy's remarks. “Really! All right, enough already. Making all these aspersions about my failings aren't funny. You're living dangerously for someone who needs a big favor from a friend.” Karen peered at the journal Amy had stuffed in her hand. “What’s this book for?”

  Amy took Karen by the elbow. “Let's walk to your car as we talk. Come along, Henie. Pick up your satchel and follow us.

  The journal is for the experiment's documentation. Make a daily entry about the robot’s performance each day. Any suggestions you can think of to help us make her perform better will be helpful. How to make her more presentable to the customers. Anything else you'd like to see done to make her more sales proof will be great.”

  Karen snapped, “Great! Just what I needed, paperwork. Anything else I need to know about this experiment you have failed to tell me until after I agreed?”

  Amy stopped with Karen by the car in the parking lot. “I think that's about it. If you have any questions call me. I do need you to email me your address and directions to your house. I'm not too good with country driving. Otherwise, I might get lost.

  Now take the robot home. Stop worrying. You will do fine. Enjoy letting Henie do your work for you.

  Henie, get in Karen's car and go with her to her house,” Amy instructed as she opened the back door and threw the satchel on the seat by the grocery sacks.

  Karen watched as Henie opened the front car door and bounced into the passenger's seat. She inspected the interior. “Cool car, Kiddo.”

  Karen raised a brow.

  “You will be fine. I promise,” Amy said with a nervous giggle as she gave Karen a shove.

  Karen saw her friend's hands bunch in her lab coat pockets. She wondered if Amy had her fingers crossed on both hands. Wishing for luck maybe that gullible Karen would believe this experiment will go smoothly. Hoping Karen wouldn't change her mind and kick the maid out of the car before she drove out of the parking lot.

  Karen climbed in and backed her car up. Garth Brooks's latest song was playing on the radio. Karen liked his singing. She concentrated on the words and watched the traffic as she pulled into the street.

  The song cut off in the middle of a verse. Karen glanced at the radio, wondering what the station interference was.

  Henie was poking the buttons. “There must be some neater stations we can pick up. I like pop music.” She stopped poking when she found a song she liked.

  Karen was about to demand Henie get her finger off the radio buttons. She remembered harsh words might make the robot cry. She clamped her mouth shut tight and concentrated on her driving. Heavens forbid, she hurt Henie's feelings on her very first ride in a car. The robot might jump out to run back to Amy in the lab and get run over by a car. That might make Amy mad enough to send her a bill for the creature.

  Chapter 3

  When Karen stopped in front of her three story, white clapboard farm house, she shut the car off. “We're here.” She got out and went around to open the
door for Henie.

  The robot beat her to it. She sprang off the seat and stood with her hands on her hips as she inspected the house. “Quaint old fashion digs, Kiddo.”

  “Thanks, I'm glad you approve. That takes a load off my mind,” Karen replied dryly as she reached into the back seat for the satchel. “Here, make yourself useful and carry your clothes. I've got to bring in the groceries.”

  “Sure thing, Kiddo,” Henie said as she followed Karen up the porch steps.

  Karen set her two sacks of groceries down, inserted the key in the lock and opened the door. Just as she picked up the sacks, Henie turned sideways and bumped Karen with the satchel as she swished past. Karen struggled to keep hold of the sacks and followed Henie.

  The robot walked around the living room, inspecting it. She patted the worn, faded couch arm. “I like the blue flowers and green leaves. Nice pattern, Kiddo.”

  Karen shrugged her shoulders. “Not really. This fifties furniture was here when I moved in. I kept what is here rather than put out the expense for new furniture right away.”

  Henie listened to her as if she was interested.

  Suddenly, it crossed Karen's mind to wonder why she had to explain her reasons for keeping the old furniture to this robot. For that matter, why did Henie get programmed with an app to appraise furniture? She sure wasn't very good at it.

  Henie disappeared into the kitchen. Karen followed her and set the groceries on the yellow formica table.

  Henie stood near the stove. “Not a bad kitchen as old kitchens go. It does appear to be half way modern.”

  “I hope that means the half way modern parts suits your skills and the older parts you can learn to use,” Karen said in a dubious tone.

  “Sure, I can make do with what's here. I have all that programmed into me,” Henie said agreeably.

  “That's good to know,” Karen said.

  “Kiddo, I bet it is. Amy said you might not be much help showing me around the kitchen. She needed to program me well,” Henie shared.

  “Oh, really,” Karen huffed. “I need to get back to work. You can put the food away in the pantry. That way you will know where everything is. You do know which items go in the refrigerator and which don't, don't you?”

  Henie nodded. “Yes, I know.”

  With that Karen headed out of the kitchen. Henie was oblivious to Karen's indignation as she followed. She put her hand on the walnut railing and looked up the stairs. “Say, Kiddo, can I have my own room?”

  Karen hadn't thought about where she'd store the robot when Henie wasn't in use. Perhaps, one of the closets. “I - I guess so.”

  Henie raised the satchel up. “Gee, thanks. I need to get rid of this before I put the groceries away.”

  Karen eyed it. “I hope the change of clothes in there is more suitable than what you have on. I'd like to see you wearing a skirt with more material in it.”

  “Amy is good at picking out what I need to wear to work in. I'm sure the clothes are fine. Now I’ll go up and pick a room to crash in,” Henie said, sprinting up the steps.

  Karen shouted after her, “First bedroom on the right is mine so don't get any ideas about taking it. That one is off limits.”

  Henie didn't answer.

  Karen glanced at the round, green, plastic framed clock, with it electric cord trailing the plastered wall to the outlet. The clock made a loud rattling noise, protesting its effort to make the hands move. One of these days the clock would stop.

  Almost eleven now. She felt as though she'd fooled away the morning. Her stop at the laboratory put her behind with her writing schedule. She needed to get some work done before the day was over. With that in her mind, she forgot her worries about the robot as she headed for her office.

  Karen laid the journal on the back corner of her desk. Just as she sat down at the computer, she heard Henie's excited shout ring through the house from upstairs, “Cool beans!”

  She turned on the computer and monitor before she opened the journal. She dated the first line of the first entry and wrote, “Amy, I repeat now that I've been home all of five minutes this robot has the wrong personality to be a servant. Maids are supposed to be more sedate and matronly. This teenage example of a soda jerk's girlfriend exudes too much energy to be a sedate servant unless she receives different programing.”

  Karen laid the journal back on the desk and pulled her keyboard toward her. She typed as fast as she could to make up for lost time.

  Later, Henie popped into the office. “It's lunch time. Kiddo, you want served in here, or are you coming to the kitchen table?”

  Karen continued to type until she reached the end of the sentence. She swiveled her chair to face Henie. “What am I having?”

  Henie's expression was strictly business now. “Potato chips and hotdogs.”

  “A tray brought in here would be fine for that cuisine.” As soon as Henie was away from the door, Amy opened the journal. She skipped down a few lines and wrote suggestion number two. “Robot should be programmed to cook nourishing meals. Quick and easy picnic snack types of meals like hotdogs and chips are full of cholesterol. Besides, I think a meal that simple would be easy enough for even me to do.

  However, this is the first meal the robot has prepared. If it was a matter of her forgetting to ask me or not knowing she should give me a choice of menu, I'll document that later after I've talked to her.

  I want it to be noted I bought groceries this morning, and the robot just stocked the kitchen pantry with plenty of healthy choices to pick from, and she was familiar with the food on hand.”

  Karen was used to working late at night. After Henie brought her a supper of the rest of the hot dogs with pork n' beans, she forgot the robot was in the house.

  Henie interrupted at eleven o’clock. “Say, Kiddo, if you don’t need anything else I think I’m going to my room.”

  “All right, on one condition,” Karen said.

  “Sure, Kiddo. What do you need done?” Henie asked accommodatingly.

  “I want to be referred to by my given name which is Karen. Do not call me Kiddo again. Do you understand me?” Karen said slowly as if she had to speak clearly to be understood.

  Henie smiled agreeably and imitated the slow tempo of Karen's speech right back at her. “I understand you very well. From now on, I'll call you Karen.”

  Was that robot making fun of her? Karen didn't know how to take Henie. The way the robot acted just now could very easily be called attitude. A devious idea sprang into her head. If she had any trouble with that robot, she'd store Henie in the spare bedroom closet for the duration of her stay. She could get away with that and not tell Amy. “Did you clean the kitchen well?”

  “Yes, Karen. I've taken care of all the tasks,” Henie replied.

  “Good. You're free to go to your room. Oh, I'll have to go with you. I need to plug you in to charge your battery.”

  “I can do it. Just keep on working.” Henie turned away from the door.

  “Henie, Amy specifically told me I'd be plugging you in,” Karen said.

  The robot turned around. “She may have thought that was the case, but Amy might not be too clear on every little detail. I'm one of the robots that can plug and unplug myself. Oh, what time do I make breakfast in the morning?”

  Karen explained, “I work late into the night, and I sleep late in the mornings. So I don’t eat a meal until lunch.”

  “Cool beans! Night, night.” The robot whisked out of sight.

  Karen could hear skipping footsteps all the way up the stairs. She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and wondered what she'd gotten herself into by being such a push over for a friend. This whole project felt like a privacy invasion. She hoped she became used to the robot soon, or she'd have to find a way to lock the closet door.

  The next day about mid morning, Karen woke to smell the most delicious odors floating up the stairs. She dressed, intending to get a cup of coffee first thing before she started writing.

  Instead,
she froze in the kitchen doorway, trying to take in the scene. An elderly woman, dressed in a green bell of Ireland flowered cotton house dress covered with a green and white gingham bib apron, looked up and smiled at her. The woman wore SAS shoes and had her gray hair rolled into a bun on the back of her neck.

  Amy said the robot had a different change of clothes but this was going from one ridiculous extreme to another. The robot had done a major do over to her person before coming downstairs.

  “Good morning, dear. Coffee’s ready,” said the robot, kneading dough on one end of the table. She shuffled to the sink, ran water over her floured hands and wiped them dry on the corner of her apron. “Sit down. I’ll pour you a cup.”

  Even her voice has changed, Karen thought. It’s a soft and crackly old person's voice. Henie placed the steaming cup in front of her. “Who are you? What did you do with, Henie?”

  “I am, Henie.” The elderly woman chuckled. “Come now. You're too young to have memory problems yet. Don't you remember, dear? You brought me home with you just yesterday.”

  “Of course, I remember I brought a robot home with me. She just didn't look like you,” Karen responded slowly.

  “It has to be me. I'm the only robot here. Aren't I?” The woman asked, looking around the room with a smile on her face.

  “Where did you find those old lady clothes? I'm pretty sure that dress from the fifties wouldn't have been in the satchel Amy sent with you,” Karen questioned.

  “I've got more dresses and aprons to match in my bedroom closet. This one is perfect for kitchen work, don’t you think?” Henie spread the apron out in front of her.

  “I guess so.” Karen hadn't bothered to look in the spare bedroom closet so she couldn't dispute that the dresses hadn't been left there by her grandma. It occurred to her a little too late she should have been more curious about the house she bought. Karen looked from the dough on the table to the steaming kettle on the stove. “What are you cooking?”