Machine Man (serial)

Then I had an epiphany. I was on my stomach, straining to reach some titanium pieces that had somehow wound up under the bed, and I thought: These are just metal. I guess that doesn’t sound very revelatory. But it was. I stared at these pieces, which had once been the core of my fingers, and they did not look like part of me.

I sat up. I would never put the Contours back together: I knew that now. Previously, this fear had paralyzed me, but I mostly just felt relief. A part of me still wanted to fix them, to try just one more time, but it was a small part, receding, and I could ignore it. I looked down and thought: I’m a mess.

I thought about Lola. I had done so much damage there. I wasn’t sure it was repairable. A thought struck me: maybe Lola was not even around any more. Someone had been bringing me food, and listening outside the door as I talked to my parts, but that could have been Angelica. Lola could have left days ago. It would have been the rational thing to do.

I pulled open the door. Fresh air swept hit me like a slap. A piece of paper lay in the corridor: a clipping from a trade supplies catalog. It was advertising an arc welder. On it was a note, in Lola’s handwriting: For you, in the garage.

I was still there when she appeared at the top of the corridor. “Oh,” she said. “You… well, I heard you needed one.”

I opened my mouth. My jaw worked. But I couldn’t find any words.

“It took me a while to get.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “I hope it’s the right kind.”

I croaked: a low, pathetic sound. I didn’t know where to begin. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Lola said. “It’s okay, Charlie.”

123.