SAD ROBOT: an autobiography of my unfortunate existence

9. MILO'S NEMESIS

9. MILOʼS NEMESIS 

Getting visited by someone who hates every fiber of your being always knocks a robot off-guard. But Bridget was currently taking the elevator straight to Miloʼs front door, soon to appear, stone-faced and, most likely, seething.

Milo has no idea what he has done. It must have been something significant enough to warrant her physical presence, or else she would have no real reason to visit. I can not guess as to how Miloʼs mind must be spinning on high gear at this moment.

They were never very close. I know that when Milo was four, she dropped him on his head, and that really summed up their relationship quite nicely.

My predictions for this face-to-face meeting call for a ninety-percent chance of yelling and insults. I instantly have an urge to hide all breakable objects in the nearby vicinity to reduce the chance of her using Miloʼs own things as a weapon against him or I.

Maybe I should just see what it is she wants first. Maybe itʼs nothing. And maybe tomorrow. the Sun will rise in the West instead.

The dreaded knock. Milo steps towards the door, motioning for me to stand down. 

"Iʼll take it from here," he says. 

Milo opens the door. Sheʼs standing there, hands on hips, watching, as if he had just picked up food off the dirty ground and ate it. 

"Can I...help you?" He doesnʼt really know what else to say. 

If she is going to blow up on him, she is saving it. 

She looks past Milo at me, standing off to the side of the entrance towards the kitchen.

"I see you still have that thing." 

"His nameʼs Hiram, and heʼs rather nice once you get to know him."

She laughs as if it is a joke, as if Milo is anthropomorphizing something that is inanimate, like a kidʼs plush toy or a rock with a face painted on it.

"What are you doing with your life, Milo?" 

Oh, there it is. Straight to the point. 

Her eyes narrow before the next words come out of her mouth. "Mom says youʼre almost broke and youʼre gonna get kicked out of your apartment. Didnʼt you get a new job? How are you so goddamn terrible with money? At everything! Huh, Milo? How?"

I donʼt think she stops to breathe when sheʼs angry. Everything just comes spraying out. Breathing is trivial when thereʼs a chance to knock her little brother down a peg or two.

She glares at me then him, but Milo doesnʼt respond—he just turns back to me. 

"Hiram, could you please wait in another room? We would like some space." 

"As you wish," I trudge away around the corner to the guest room of the apartment. It

is best that I am not around for this and I prefer if I didnʼt become a victim of Bridgetʼs rage. The last thing we need is an injured robot.

Me being in another room is only a safety precaution; I can still hear every word.

"I donʼt want to see you asking Mom and Dad for money again. Youʼre almost thirty, Milo, for Godʼs sake! Time to wake up."

"Right, mmhmm." 

The best approach is to speak as minimal as possible so as to not escalate the conflict any more than it is. Sometimes, that backfires, and the minimalist tactic just makes her angrier because she thinks you do not care and/or are not really listening or taking her seriously. This occasion was one of the latter instances. 

"Milo, get your fucking shit together! Mom and Dad are not babying you anymore and neither am I or Bethany, so stop wasting money on stupid shit like that stupid fucking robot and just get it together, or go live on the streets with the winos, see if I care!"

"Is this what you came here for—?" 

"Fuck you, Milo. And when was the last time you even visited them? Huh?" 

"Iʼm always busy, I just canʼt—" 

"Excuses, excuses. Whatʼs your excuse for all your debt? Your shitty job? Your lack of a life?" 

"Iʼm gonna try to see them, I swear—" 

"Right, sure you are. Uh-huh. Whatever." 

I hear her turn around, walk out, and slam the door behind her. 

Well, she mustʼve felt rather confrontational today, and Milo just happened to be the one she decided to set her sights on. Sheʼs an angry person, weʼll deal with it. Iʼll try not to let it ruin my day.

"Itʼs safe to come out now," Milo yells out.

I can tell her last accusation is beginning to settle in on him. Sheʼs kind of right. When was the last time he even visited his parents?

Milo hadnʼt even seen his other sister in a while either. Bethany—she is the younger sibling, making Milo the unfortunate soul destined to live life as a middle child. I know that Milo had missed her university graduation a few months back. Milo likely canʼt even remember what his excuse was.