SAD ROBOT: an autobiography of my unfortunate existence

86. THINGS ARE OKAY

86. THINGS ARE OKAY 

"I'm not much of a fan of hospitals," Natalie confides in me. "In fact they rather frighten me greatly."

I tell her I could understand that. Some people would rather not be reminded of their impending mortality.

Beth is waiting for us at the waiting area near the entrance to the ward that Milo is in. When she notices us approaching, she jumps up from her seat and rushes over.

"So what's up with your brother, Beth?"

I await Beth's clarification for news on Milo. She does not seem upset to the degree one would be if their family member were in dire circumstances. I infer this to be a good thing. Nonetheless, she still wears a grim expression uncommon to her usually cheery demeanor.

"He'll be alright. He'll be alright. He and his bot were mugged in broad daylight. They beat him up pretty badly. He's in a lot of pain, but he'll pull through."

"Nothing life-threatening?" I inquire.

"No, not quite like that," she confirms. "He'll make it through alright. Just a scare."

"Well, thank goodness for that then," Natalie voices our mutual relief.

We move over to the empty row of chairs where Beth had been waiting. There is no one else around in the little pocket of chairs for people waiting on their loved ones to pass the time in.

"He was found unconscious in a park by a man riding through on his bicycle. The man called the ambulance after seeing Milo's heap of a body that he must have assumed was in far worse condition. Thank goodness for people like that."

I make the observation that is likely on the mind of the other two. "So what happened to his robot?"

It pains me somewhat to say his robot, a term once used to describe myself but no longer.

"They didn't say. And I didn't ask."

Natalie nods.

"The doctor said it was done by multiple individuals. It's a miracle they left him still alive."

I sit there unmoving.

Milo's condition makes the prognosis even bleaker for his robot girlfriend. How would she have survived something like that?

None of us wished to talk about the robot girlfriend anyway. We are solely concerned for Milo in this moment. It dawns on me that I was almost never able to hear from him again. How fleeting human life truly is...

"Milo will be okay. Milo will be okay. He's okay. We're okay. Things are okay."

The two girls look to me. I see pity cross their features, like they feel sorry for me in my moment of being struck by the force of our finiteness as physical beings. Our true connection to each other - the inescapableness of the threat of death.

"Are you not also being hit with the crushing realization that life is so temporal? Things could disappear in an instant! You have something one moment and the next it could be gone!" I am raising my voice higher than normal and Beth calmly alerts me to this and puts a comforting arm around me telling me that it's okay, she knows, that it's okay to be scared of things happening, things happen all the time and we can't do anything about them but we don't have to be scared, the three of us are still here, still together, and we don't need to be scared of anything.

I ease down my being on high alert. Beth and Natalie rest comforting hands on me.

"I apologize for causing a scene. How embarrassing. I should know better."

"Don't worry, my friend. I understand. We're all here for each other."

"Is Hiram allowed to go in and see him?" Natalie asks for me.

Beth furrows her brow. "I don't think you'll be able to do that right now."

"It's quite alright. I would not guess that Milo would wish to see me of all things appear at his bedside. I don't have to go in. Knowing he is alright is good enough."

The three of us sit in the lonely little waiting area a little while longer.

"Did Milo say anything?" I ask Beth.

She shakes her head. "He hasn't spoken. Not to me. He's refused any visitors. I wanted to go in but the nurses are respecting his wishes."

I suppose there isn't much else to find out. I will have to be content with knowing Milo survived a traumatic ordeal and that he will be okay. Physically anyway. Beyond that, it is impossible to be sure. Poor guy.

I replay one of our old interactions in my head that Milo had found amusing at the time. It was the time when he'd walked in on me conducting an imaginary orchestra with my arms, listening to a song playing loudly over the speakers. It was Dan Mangan, aided by several string and wind instruments, singing

"Robots need love too/
They just want to be loved by you/
Want to be loved by you....."

Milo had observed the unequivocal oddity of a robot like me leading a song about wanting to be loved. He had remarked something about it being both disturbingly unsettling yet immeasurably haunting and sad.

In the midst of it, I am pulled away from the memory by someone calling Beth's name.

Coming towards us from the direction of the elevator is Bridget. An impromptu family reunion that I had failed to realize would happen.