Title: Our Robot, Chapter Eight
Author: Nobilis
Summary: Anne without Bill
Keywords: We don't need no stinkin' keywords

***************************************

Dislaimers

This story is intended as Adult entertainment.  It contains
material of an explicit, adult, sexual nature.  If you are
offended by sexually explicit content, please do not read any
further.

This story is a work of fiction.  All characters and events
portrayed in it are fictional, and any resemblance to real people
is purely coincidental.  The author does not necessarily condone
or endorse any of the activities described.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author.  It may be distributed for
free with all disclaimers attached.

***************************************

Our Robot

by Nobilis

Chapter Eight

Anne

I went with Bill to the airport.  After having spent years with
him, the concept of spending even one night alone was painful.  I
couldn't imagine going without him for two weeks.  In retrospect,
I must have been pretty clingy and dependent.  I suppose it's
true, what they say about people who study psychology.

I made a teary scene at the airport, and waited at the entrance
to the metro terminal, watching the lights of the departing
planes, until his departure time had passed, and every shadow of
him seemed gone.  I moped my way home.  Dazed and emotionally
exhausted, I drove home from the monorail in the middle of the
night, and collapsed into bed.

In the morning, Tootsie woke me again with a simple breakfast.  I
learned from her that it was Bill that had instructed her when
and how to bring it to me.

I picked up the phone.  I started to call his cell, but realized
that he'd still be on the plane, that his phone wouldn't work.

I sighed, and put the phone down.  I looked at the coffee, and
toast, and instant oatmeal, and I wanted very much to be too sick
with loneliness to eat, but I found to my surprise that I wasn't
nearly as bad off as I expected to be.  Bill would call me when
he got in.  I ate the oatmeal and drank the coffee.  It wasn't
precisely the way I like it, but it was close.  I took the remote
off my bedside table and turned on the audio, and flipped it to a
news channel.

I didn't ordinarily listen to the news much, but with Bill in
Japan I wanted to hear if anything important was happening there.
 I had vague, irrational premonitions about earthquakes,
typhoons, and tidal waves.  The news didn't mention anything
cataclysmic, so those premonitions faded before I finished
breakfast.

I carried the tray down to the kitchen and told Tootsie to make
up the bed.  I went into the study and started writing.  I wrote
some lyrics, put some music to them, and realized that it was
total crap.  The number of songs about the loneliness of
separated lovers is more than I'd care to count, and adding one
more was going to be useless.  I threw away the sheet of note
paper with the words and chords and started singing some of the
good ones instead.  I felt better.  An hour went by.

I got out my Alvarez.  It's the best guitar I own.  It's not my
favorite, but Bill got it for me and it has always symbolized him
to me.  I stroked the strings gently.

I checked my schedule.

Whoa!  The Concert!  I was scheduled to play the Ten Fifty Club
that night!  In all the chaos of the honeymoon, and moving and
Tootsie, I had totally forgotten.  Luckily, with everything so
neat, and orderly and freshly packed away, I was able to get
everything together in time, without rushing.  I gave some
instructions to Tootsie and locked up the house.  I tried to
focus, to rehearse my act in my head.  I got to the venue by
noon, plenty of time to get set up, do the sound checks, and get
familiar with the stage.

I was doing "Green Fire" for the sound man and some of the staff
for the sound check when Dave came in.  I felt an impulse to stop
and welcome him, but my professional self stopped me, and I
managed to finish the song without faltering.  Dave smiled and
waved, and I smiled back at him.

When I was done, the sound man said, "Anne, give us a minute
here, I think one of the boards is going bad."  He busied himself
with the interior of one of the boxes on his console.  Dave took
the opportunity to walk up to the stage.  As he walked up, it
struck me that Dave was everything that Bill was not.  Shaved
bald, shortish, muscular.  His smile was charming in a completely
different way.

"I like that one," he said.  "It's about emeralds, right?"

I nodded.  "Mm-hmm.  From the mine to my hand."  I showed off the
ring on my finger.

He noticed the little emerald engagement ring, and the wedding
ring nested with it.  Was that a note of disappointment in his
eye?  He looked around the room briefly.  "You're singing it
tonight, I hope?"

"Yes, I am."

"Would it be alright with you, if we did a duet, maybe for an
encore?"

Would it!  I tried not to look like a geeky fangirl.  "Yes!  Of
course... I'd be flattered."

"How about 'Horseshoes'?  You know that one?"

"Yes."  I knew ALL Dave's songs.

"Good!"  He winked, clicked his tongue at me, and gave me a
thumbs-up.  "Break a leg."

"Hey, you too!"

My cell phone rang.  Dave went backstage.  Wow.  My first gig,
opening for one of my favorite artists, and he had asked to play
a duet with me.  It rang again.  I checked the display... it was
Bill.  I answered it.

"Bill!"

"Hi babe!  Listen!  I don't have much time.  I just wanted to let
you know that I arrived safely, and I'm on the way to the hotel.
I'll call you again when I get there.  I ..."

It cut out.  What the hell?

The sound man called my name.  He was pointing at me... the
signal that I should start playing again.  I started playing "No
No Raja."  It wasn't until I was halfway through that the meaning
of the song sunk in, and I caught the irony of it.  Not only was
it one of Dave's songs, it was a warning to Raja, to stay away
from a woman who's no good for him.  I wondered if Dave heard it,
and what he thought.

I kept my cell phone on me the whole time.  Bill didn't call. 
Reluctantly, I turned it off a half hour before showtime, so that
I could prepare without worrying about being interrupted.

My set went great.  A few voices in the crowd sang along during
the Chapin tunes.  It's good to hear that folks haven't forgotten
him.

After I was done, I went around to the front and watched Dave's
performance from the entrance.  It was a full house, so I
couldn't sit down, but I couldn't have sat still anyways.  I sang
along with the slow songs, danced with the snappy ones, and
generally just had a good time.  When Dave came out for his
encore, he waved me up to the stage, and we sang "Horseshoes"
together.  We took our bows and went back to the dressing room.

Dave collapsed on the couch as soon as we got back.  He was
sweaty and flushed.  I grabbed a water bottle and drank deeply.

"Hey, toss me those, eh?"  He pointed at a pack of cigarrettes on
the table.  I picked them up.  They were one of the Canadian
brands... the kind made with marijuana instead of tobacco.  I
handed them to him.  He took one out, lit it up, and held the
smoke.  He offered it to me.

I shook my head.  He shrugged and blew out the smoke.

There was a knock on the door, and one of the staff poked his
nose in.  "Mister Matheson , there's about two dozen people
outside who want your autograph.  What do you want me to tell
them?"

"Tell them I'll be out in fifteen minutes."  He took another long
drag on the cigarette and went over to the shower.  I turned my
back and started getting my things together.  "Sorry, I'll get
out of your way."  I heard the water came on in the shower.

"Hey, don't worry about it," he said.  "Doesn't bother me.  It's
not my fault they only have one dressing room."  I heard his
pants and belt hit the floor.  "I'll be out in a few minutes,
then you can have the room to yourself."

Was this some kind of a weird come-on?  Or maybe he was giving me
the opportunity to come on to him.  I turned on my cell phone. 
After a minute, it signaled that there were three messages
waiting for me.  Two from Bill, and one from someone I didn't
know.  I dialed up Bill's first message.

"Hi babe," he said, "I guess doing your concert now.  I only just
to the hotel.  Love you, call me when you're done."  The second
message was much the same.

I dialed up the other message.  An oily voice came over the phone
 "Hey, Anne, my name's Jonathan Campbell, I just caught your act
and I wanted to say how much I enjoyed it.  How's about I meet
you afterwards for drinks?  I'll be waiting outside.  Love ya,
babe!"

I shuddered.  The tone made me want to crawl out of my skin.  I
called up the manager and told him what had happened, and asked
him to clear out the stage door so I could go to my car.  He said
he'd send someone around to make sure no one bothered me when I
went out to my car.  I heard the water stop.

"Sure doesn't take long to start attracting the creeps, does it?"

"Yeah..."  I missed Bill a great deal all of a sudden.

"The hall ought to be cleared out by now," he said, "I'll walk
you out to your car."

"Thanks," I said, "but your fans are waiting for you."

"Eh... They can wait a few more minutes."

"Alright."

I heard Dave get dressed behind me, while the marijuana smoke got
thicker in the room.  I could feel a little bit of a buzz, a
contact high, coming on.  It just seemed to intensify the
melancholy feeling that was coming over me.

My instruments and gear had already been packed up during Dave's
set, so all I had to do was bring it all out to the car.  I took
my guitars and Dave grabbed my harp and the suitcase I used for
all the little odds and ends.  A big guy with a crew-cut was
standing by the door.  "All clear, Missus McCloud," he said.  He
opened the door out onto the back parking lot.  Dave and I walked
out to my car.  Dave didn't say anything.  I thanked him for
helping and got into the car.

I plugged my cell phone into the car's system and called Bill.  I
got his recording again.  A few minutes later, the phone rang
again.  I took the call without checking the display.

"Bill?"

"Jonathan Campbell."  My stomach turned upside-down.  "Hey, you
ran off without even saying 'hi'.  Didn't you get my message?"

"Yeah, I got it.  I'm sorry, Jonathan, I'm tired and I just want
to go home.  I'm sure you understand."

"Yeah, I understand."  There was an edge of malice to his voice.

I cut the call.  I pulled the phone off the cord and turned it
off.  I shivered.  I contemplated pulling off the highway to get
a cup of coffee, but it struck me that he might well be following
me.  I sped up.  All kinds of nightmare scenarios started playing
on my imagination.

I turned on the radio.  I turned to the folk channel.  I sang
along with the songs I knew and tried to memorize the ones I
didn't.  The music gradually dispelled my fears, and by the time
I got home I was feeling a little better.  Just a little.

After I unloaded the car, I tried Bill's cell again.  Same
recording.  I left a message for him to call me when he was free,
no matter how late it was.  I told him I loved him and I missed
him.  I looked at the clock... wow.  Two o'clock in the morning.
If Tootsie woke me up for breakfast at the usual time I was not
going to be happy.

I went out into the kitchen.  Tootsie was standing against the
wall, with her electrical cord plugged in.  She turned to look at
me.  "Good morning, Mistress Anne," she said.  "Is there anything
you need?"

"Tootsie, I want you to bring breakfast to me at ten tomorrow,
please."

"Yes, Mistress Anne."

I remembered something from Tootsie's manual.  "Tootsie, do you
still have your emergency protocols installed, please?"

"Yes, Mistress Anne.  Fire and medical emergency protocols are
active."

"Tootsie, activate intruder emergency protocol, please."

"Intruder emergency protocol active."  Tootsie was no
security-bot, but her AI was bright enough to be able to tell if
someone was breaking into the house in the middle of the night,
and could use the house system to call the police.  I felt better
knowing that an unsleeping set of eyes and ears would be watching
out for me.

I hoped I wouldn't need it.

End Chapter Eight


  
Our_Robot_Chapter_08