SAD ROBOT: an autobiography of my unfortunate existence

14. HUMAN EMPATHY

14. HUMAN EMPATHY 

"I am increasingly at odds with the state of the human race," I tell my therapist.

She nods understandingly.

"The more I learn, the more I am confused. Leading to the more I almost wish to just live a simple life, away from it all."

"You do lead a simple life, no?" she asks.

"Yes and no," I admit. "My expected obedience and tasks I am required to do are simple; that would be a correct assessment. But if I am to assist my Owner in the proper direction of his life in a positive and beneficial way, then it is far from simple, I am afraid."

"You are there to be a companion though, isnʼt that correct, Hiram?" 

"Yes. But I have been led to believe that it is not enough."

*** 

We spoke for the duration of the length of the session. Miss Aida spent the hour prompting me into helping her have a better understanding of my position. 

"What I seem to be seeing here," Miss Aida concludes, "is that you have an unprecedented amount of human empathy towards your Owner." 

"Letʼs call him a friend." 

"Okay, to your friend." "

Human empathy?"

"Yes, it appears so." 

"I understand this is not normal."

"No, it is not normal. I have not seen this before."

"Oh."

We sit in silence momentarily, leading me to believe that Miss Aida is unsure of how to proceed.

Instantly, her face softens and she pulls off her glasses, setting them down on the round table beside her. To me, she is finally dropping her facade of professionalism and becoming, once again, human.

She stares down at her left shoe. 

"People are going to be very curious about this." 

"About me?" 

"Yes, about you, Hiram." 

"Why would people be curious about me? I am just a simple house bot." 

She doesnʼt immediately answer. 

Miss Aida returns my eye contact. She is a tough human to completely comprehend. Of course her profession makes it a requirement of interpreting others whilst remaining uninterpretable herself. Any show of more than an appropriate amount of vulnerability could destroy the illusion of the polished professional.

Humans decide that their superiors must be more like us than like them.

At this moment, that masquerade seems to crumble. What I interpret to be an appearance of sadness crosses her gentle features. Her mouth wavers, her eyes soften.

"I donʼt think so, Hiram," she finally speaks, more softly than before. There is an internal turmoil inside of this gentle woman. She appears lost in thought, her body language losing its rigidity. Her once calm demeanor becoming almost nervous ticks; her bobbing foot of her crossed leg, her fingers fiddling with her pen.

"Hiram, can you make a promise to keep our meeting a secret? You must never tell." 

I am curious about this request. 

"I was under the impression that patient-doctor privacy is a requirement under law, Miss Aida." 

"Yes. Right. Of course it is."

"Then I am under full compliance." 

"Great. Thank you, Hiram."

*** 

"Our time is up, but I would like you to see me again, Hiram. Whenever you wish to."

"I would like that," I say to her. "I have enjoyed your company immensely." 

She smiles at me for the first time. "It is my pleasure."

Miss Aida quickly pulls out a business card from her pocket and hands it to me. 

"Please. Call me at your convenience. Iʼm always here." 

I look at the card, take in all of its information. Her full name—Doctor Aida Graves— and her full contact information. 

I hand the card back to her, its contents saved in my memory banks. 

She laughs, having briefly forgotten that I am a robot and would not need to carry a card to remember information. 

I like her. She is nice. It is pleasant to have gained a friend outside of Milo.

She bids me goodbye and wishes me a pleasant ride home and to remain safe. Her concern is greatly welcome. I have not had a human wish me such things before.

As I turn to exit, I cannot help but notice a dampness underneath her lashes, a shine to her eyes behind her eyeglasses. She turns away embarrassingly.

I leave this kind womanʼs office and go back out into the world, exiting from the refuge I have been seeking—this place where I have witnessed the moving quality of human compassion.