Humbug (The Unwinding of Ebenezer Scrooge): A Science Fiction Adventure, page 10
“Pity, sir. Yes. They’ll feel sorrow for you in your castle.”
“Where are they?”
“Sir?”
“The girls, idiot. Where’d they go after they ruined my life?”
“They’re in their room, sir.”
Eb wasted very little time. He tipped the Segway as far forward as it would allow. The droid’s elastic footsteps drummed in long gummy strides. As he approached the bedroom door, Eb stepped off the Segway too soon and ate the floor. The droid helped him up, but Eb shrugged him off, wiping blood from his lip.
He kicked the door open.
The girls were in the middle of the room, back to back, playing with their dirty redheads. They backed away from the raging fat man wheezing in the doorway.
“You.” He pointed at Natty. “Give me that.”
She crabwalked behind the bed with the doll clamped under her chin. Eb caught her before she crawled under the bed and yanked the wretched doll from her grip.
“You think this is funny? That this is a joke?”
He tore it limb from limb, stuffing falling like snow. The fabric ripped down the back; the head dangled from the frayed seam. Natty clung to his arm, screaming. Addy tugged on his other arm, crying for her sister, who had only a short time ago shoved her to the floor.
“What is this?” Eb shook a handful of white fluff. “Where did you get this?”
Natty was crying as loud as Addy. The droid put his arms around the girls, shielding them from the towering menace. Eb’s cheeks were flush and jiggling. His knees quaked.
“Shhh-shhh-shhh.” The droid stroked their hair and wiped their cheeks. “Now, now,” he said.
“Things are changing around here, right now!” Eb shouted. “I want my way, you hear? I pay the bills; this is my house, my rules, you understand? This isn’t a joke!” He took a deep fiery breath. “I want answers!”
“Stand back, sir.”
“Stop coddling them.” Eb grabbed the droid’s arm, but he was immoveable. The droid sensed danger. Six other droids arrived from the basement. They crowded behind Eb and waited impatiently.
“This is the problem, you see.” Eb’s breath rattled, spots dancing in his vision. “You spare the rod, you spoil the child.”
Had Eb a belt, he would’ve pulled it from the loops and doubled it over. The snap of leather would’ve sent a message that could not be denied. But had he a belt, he never would’ve gotten it unbuckled.
The droids were there to stop him.
“You.” He shook his finger at Natty. “You know.”
“What, sir?” the droid said. “She knows what?”
“Humbug. She knows.”
The droid put them on the bed and pulled up the covers but remained between Eb and the bed. “Humbug, sir?”
“They speak their language. They… they know something about… about you know what!”
Eb’s knees were about to unhinge. One of the droids brought him a chair and he collapsed. He needed another paper bag to breathe into. The shaking wouldn’t stop. Three of the droids put their hands on his shoulders. One of them kneaded his neck.
“May I suggest a softer approach, sir?” The droid guarding the bed approached. “Perhaps speak with love.”
Eb rested his elbows on his knees. When the shaking settled to a slight quiver, he stood and swayed. The droids steadied him as he raised his finger. Addy held her doll to her cheek. Natty clutched a wad of white stuffing.
Their heads touched.
“You call me father from now on,” he said. “And there will be no doll for you, you hear? Dolls are for good girls.”
“What are you saying, sir?”
He stormed out of the room. His legs were too weak to go any further. He leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. One by one, the droids left the bedroom to return to their docks. The last one closed the bedroom door quietly.
“I want her gone,” Eb said.
“Who, sir?”
“The bad one. Natty. She makes me hate her. Call the lawyers; there’s got to be a way to find her another home. She has to have an aunt or uncle, a long-lost cousin or something. I’ll make them rich just as long as she’s out of here.”
“And Addy, sir?”
“She can stay.”
“I see, sir.” The droid sat on the floor next to him. “Would you care to talk about it?”
“No. Just get rid of her.”
Eb crawled to the parked Segway and climbed onto the platform. He wasn’t sure he could stay on it long enough to make it to his bedroom. It wasn’t exhaustion that nibbled at his strength or low blood sugar.
It was fear.
What he saw in the studio when Natty lifted the doll in the studio, when she held it above her head in victory, Eb saw it on the monitor behind the hosts, saw the doll swing between her clenched fists. It wasn’t raggedy and soiled, worn out with love. It didn’t have faded red hair and button eyes. It was long and bleached, the arms and legs stretched thin. The eyes black as coal. The head covered with a mop of sticks.
A thing covered with bugs.
THIRTEEN
~
“You can’t get rid of her, sir.”
Eb paced the bedroom. It was 11:45 p.m. He’d tried to nap that afternoon, but he was still wide awake, his legs rubbery from incessant walking in an attempt to outrun the thoughts pecking at his head.
The doll. It was the thing.
That was not something to be forgotten in a day or a week. Or ever.
“Have the lawyers look at it tomorrow,” he said. “Don’t stop until they figure it out.”
“I can do that, sir. But I feel you should know that you will risk the company if you do so.”
“What?”
The droid had analyzed the legal contracts Eb and Jacob had signed throughout the years. Somehow his partner had made ironclad arrangements that should something happen to him, Eb would become their legal guardian. Both of them.
And if not, there would be repercussions.
“You will risk your stake in the company, sir. I think you know what I mean.”
The illegal acquisition of Jacob’s share… if that snake pit were opened up, then everything would die. So if he had to keep the girl, then he would. But only until she was eighteen; then it was out the door. No one could fault him for that.
There was always the chance he could do a reality show. If the world saw how awful she was, they wouldn’t blame him for cutting the cord. Problem was they’d see him too. That would need some work.
“There’s got to be a way.” He tapped his chin. “Keep looking.”
“Honestly, there’s some blame to take here, sir.”
“Me? You saw the way she was acting. How is that my fault?”
“You pay the girls no attention, sir. You rarely talk to them aside from telling them to pick up their messes and chew with their mouths closed.”
“And they still do. Whose fault is that?”
“And now you want them to call you father, sir? Really?”
“I pay for everything.” He thumbed his chest and stalked away from the window. “The bills, the castle, food, heat, entertainment… everything.”
A draft snuck beneath his robe. He changed into silk pajamas before continuing his nervous parade, swinging his finger to point out all the things he paid for in the castle, and what did he get in return? A thanks? Respect?
Tantrums.
“I make sure they don’t starve or freeze. What else do you want?”
“You treat them like props, sir.”
“Hey!” Eb aimed a knobby finger. “You work for me. I can turn you off. Remember that.”
“Then who will listen to your complaints, sir?”
“Maybe I’ll just turn off your vocalization, ever thought of that?”
“Working for you doesn’t mean I have to agree with you, sir. Nor should I. You’re very wrong here and you should know it.” He cocked his head. “I’m here to help you.”
Eb opened his mouth only to find no words. With finger cocked and loaded, he broke the stalemate to have another pass around the room, ending up at the window again. The snow was sparkling beneath a bright moon.
He felt the need to walk again. But he couldn’t do this all night. Exhaustion would break him down before morning. And if all these thoughts still haunted him when sleep came, there was fear the dream would return.
And he couldn’t do that again. Not now. Not ever.
“The doll.” He half-looked back over his shoulder. “Natty’s doll… it changed when she held it up.”
“Changed, sir?”
Eb filled his lungs with nervous air and purged the rattling fear before describing what he’d seen on the monitor. That was not the redheaded raggedy doll she dragged around day and night that looked back at him. It had turned into the stick-headed thing grinning back.
“And that is why you destroyed her doll, sir?”
“I know what I saw.”
“You should be aware that what you saw was a projection, sir. As real as it feels to be in the projection room, you only viewed a representation of what she held. You did not look directly at it.”
“You’re saying it didn’t happen?”
“The senses are easily fooled, especially when you only witness reflections of reality, sir. You have not left the Castle in years. I suggest you go out into the world, to be in it, to experience it directly. The projection room is a delusion, sir. In essence, you believe you are making reality what you want it to be when, in fact, you are only deluding yourself.”
Eb tapped his chin then shed his glasses to rub his face. An urge to cry lodged in his throat. The dream was unraveling his sanity. He couldn’t come undone, not now.
“May I suggest you speak with a therapist, sir?”
“No.”
“There is much to benefit from a skilled counselor, sir.”
“What you just said was good, I like that. I think, yeah, I’ll do something like that.”
“Like what, sir?”
“Not the therapist part. The other thing.” He fluttered his hand at him, already forgetting.
If he was honest, he had no intention of leaving the Castle. His life’s work was aimed at never having to expose himself to risk and danger ever again. The world was a dangerous place. Just ask the animals still stuck in the food chain. Eb hovered far above the food chain; he didn’t intend to go back.
Too vulnerable.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“You’re asking a machine, sir.”
“You’re a good one, though.”
“Was that a compliment, sir?” The droid covered his chest.
“No. I’m just saying that you can analyze past cases of insanity and match them to me, maybe evaluate brain activity. You’re objective.” Eb cleared his throat. “What’s your analysis?”
“Stress, sir,” the droid said after a long pause. Eb suspected the silence was for his benefit, that the droid had the answer all along. “There has been a lot of change over the last year, and you live alone.”
“What does that have to do with it?”
“Loneliness can empower self-centered thoughts, sir. Wishful thinking, deluded behavior, that sort of thing. There are other contributing factors involved with your state of mind.”
After another long pause, Eb said, “Like?”
“Your past, sir. I don’t know your childhood, but I would guess you don’t either.”
“I know perfectly well how I grew up.”
“Most people see their past through distorted lenses, sir.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means memories are not often reliable, sir. Yet they determine much of your present behavior, in particular the memories you don’t recall. Speaking about your past with a qualified therapist can clarify much of your life, sir.”
“You want me to talk about my feelings?”
“Studies suggest talking can relieve stress and balance the emotional life, sir.”
He was already a quaking bowl of jam, emotions jiggling just under the skin. One touch and he would explode into a thousand pieces that no one could put back together no matter how qualified or how many king’s men they had.
No. Touching the emotions was a horrible idea. They needed to get back in the dark where they belonged. How did they get up here anyway?
“Call the doctor tomorrow.” Eb turned his back to stare out the window. “Get me a prescription.”
“What shall I say, sir?”
“Say severe anxiety. Not depression or panic attack, nothing like that. In fact, don’t say severe. Just nervousness or something. But get the strongest pill out there, whatever’s working these days. And turn down your sarcasm.”
“You prefer not to be challenged, sir?”
“I’d rather be married than listen to you.”
“And there’s ample opportunity for that, sir,” the droid sneered.
The small hairs sprang up on the back of his head. A clip of angry words was loaded and ready to fire when all the fear, all the delicate emotions putrefying beneath his skin simply drained away, as if a plug had been pulled on a vat of bitter sadness.
He stood a hollow vessel of a man. The switch on his emotional activity had been turned off, a faint sense of relief filling the void. The answer was in the corner of his glasses.
12:00 a.m.
The house was silent. No wind against the windows, not a snowflake scratching the chimney. No tracks in the snow.
Christmas is over.
Eb pressed his hands together and held them between his closed eyes and sighed. His rings began to hum. An incoming call rattled his fingers.
He waved the droid away.
“Sorry so late, Mr. Scrooge.” Rick’s face filled the hovering holo, the snow-covered hills sparkling through the translucent display.
“If it’s bad news,” Eb said, “you’re fired.”
“It’s good news… I mean, it’s great news. Sales are beyond what we projected. There’s already an increase in orders since this morning. We’re a hit… you’re a hit. You owned Christmas, Mr. Scrooge.”
Eb suppressed a toxic smile. “Make sure everyone is aware, Rick. I want the plant at full tilt in the morning. Christmas is over.”
“Yes, Mr. Scrooge. Also, I just wanted to say that your television appearance was fantastic.”
“I’ve had enough sarcasm for the day, Rick.”
“No, I’m not joking, sir.” Rick looked over both his shoulders before leaning closer and whispering, “Our social media director says you’re trending, sir.”
“Trending?”
“Yeah. In a good way. There’s a ton of sympathy for the way you handled your children. You appeared to be patient and accommodating despite the meltdown.”
“I did?” His projection must’ve defaulted to acceptable reactions. Eb hadn’t seen the replay. Until the arrival of midnight, he probably would’ve cried had he done so.
“There’s speculation that your appearance is contributing to the increased sales and orders. I mean, not just the way your girls behaved but your whole look.”
Rick sat back and tipped an imaginary hat. A goofy grin spread across his face. It took a moment before Eb caught on.
The top hat. They’re digging the top hat.
He couldn’t stop the smug grin blooming deep within him, imagining what the fashionistas were saying now. They couldn’t deny Eb was becoming a fashion icon. The public had spoken. And the public was never wrong.
I’m trending.
“A bit of bad news, though.”
“What is it?”
“The unknown program, the one you called about earlier.”
“Yes, I remember.” Now Eb leaned in but didn’t whisper. “What about it? What’d you find?”
“Well… nothing.”
“Don’t tell me that, Rick.”
“No, I mean it’s gone, Mr. Scrooge. It just disappeared. We were running an analysis, but it was encrypted. We don’t know what it was doing or how it got there. IT doesn’t think security was compromised. They believe it was put there by someone on the inside.”
Of course they didn’t think it came from the outside. If it did, they were all fired. Those idiots would deny a hacking attack as long as they were on the payroll. This meant he’d have to bring in outside intel.
Talons of impatience clawed at Eb’s underbelly.
“We still don’t know what it was for,” Rick continued. “It wasn’t a virus, as far as we can tell. And then it just… vanished.”
“Keep searching.”
“Of course, Mr. Scrooge.”
“I want a full report in the morning.”
“Okay.” Rick hesitated.
“Is there a problem?”
“It’s after midnight. I’ll be in first thing in the morning.”
“Rick?”
“Yes, Mr. Scrooge?”
“You just had a vacation. You should be rested. Sleep is overrated.”
Rick looked over his shoulder and swallowed. Eb hoped his wife was close enough to hear that. He killed the connection before Rick could respond. If he looked well rested in the morning, Eb would begin searching for a new Rick. Someone hungrier.
More willing.
He bathed in the moonlight’s view and let the good news fill all those empty spaces vacated by the emotional turmoil. The juice of winning lifted him up, charging him with life. Made it all worth living.
How could he sleep now?
It was 12:55 a.m. when he activated a holo. The girls were sound asleep, their foreheads touching. Arms on top of the blanket, thumbs in their mouths, Addy with her doll pressed to her cheek. Natty with a clump of white fluff.
Before closing the screen, he sent an order to the printer.
He wrapped a robe over his pajamas, stepped onto the hoverboard with fat, cushioned slippers, and cruised to the first floor. The printer hummed and vibrated.
Printing heads zipped around the inside of a three-dimensional printer, making their last pass as he closed the door. The foggy scent of warm fabric hung near the ceiling.
Eb reached inside to retrieve the item, still pliable. He pushed it over the crown of his head, followed the rim with his finger and thumb, then pointed at an imaginary crowd and smiled.
