Taking care of a baby was hard and thankless work, but it was worth it. My baby boy was born happy and healthy at exactly seven and a half pounds. He favored Nate in most aspects — his eyes, hair, and completion were the most noticeable features — but he had my small face and my nose.
Nate insisted on getting a Mister Handy bot to work around the house for us. I finally said yes because he was going to do it with or without my permission anyway. He had been itching to spend money on something expensive and shiny for a while now.
We ordered the Mister Handy from the General Atomics company, and he turned out to be a blessing. We called him Codsworth.
Codsworth, like all the other Mr. Handy robots, had a large, round frame made of polished metal and a jet underneath that allowed him to hover above the ground. He had three sensors that served as his eyes, and they protruded from the top of his rounded body like a snail's. Three appendages were attached to his frame, the end of each one serving a different function. One was a miniature flamethrower, to what purpose I wasn't sure. The others were a buzz saw for trimming hedges and small trees and a grappling or grabber of sorts that allowed him to easily pick up and move items. There was a hidden compartment on the back of his body, allowing him to store a multitude of items like bottles of water, first aid, or keys.
Not only was he a babysitter, but he could cook, clean, and garden for me. he was even better than a watchdog when it came to protecting the house. I didn't have a care in the world; I could prop my feet up and let Codsworth do all the hard work while I enjoyed the more comforting moments with Shaun, like holding him and rocking him to sleep and talking to him. I would have been able to go back to work without having to worry about being tired.
Codsworth had a distinct British accent, used proper grammar at all times, and was very polite. I'm sure it was a part of his programming, but there were times when he could be a bit snarky and opinionated — mostly about the neighbors, which always provided entertainment.
Eventually, he caught on to all the routines and goings-on around the house. He would be my listening ear when I was upset, and he could always keep a secret. I was beginning to worry about my own mental health, however, being such good friends with a robot.
One day, in particular, Nate was at work, and Shaun was asleep. So it was just me and Codsworth in the living room. He hovered next to me as I watched TV. Two of his sensors were directed toward the TV, and one focused on me, as I had noticed it usually was. He would make comments every now and then about the show I was watching. It was some game show, nothing special. I didn't like watching the news like Nate did. It was too depressing; our economy was in such horrible shape. Codsworth made hot chocolate for me to chase away the chill and gossiped about the neighbors. Then, out of the blue, Codsworth said, "I feel a great deal of affection for this family, Mum." That's when I realized he had become just as much a part of the family as any of us.
It had been about a month since Shaun was born. It was a crisp Monday morning in October, and the leaves were changing color. All the Halloween decorations were out in the neighborhood. I got out of bed and heard Nate in the bathroom taking a shower. After I got dressed, I met him in the bathroom, where he had already dried off and was fixing his hair in the mirror.
"War never changes," he mumbled. He seemed to have been rehearsing some lines for his speech tonight.
I grinned at him. "You're gonna knock 'em dead at the veterans' hall," I assured him.
"You think?"
"Absolutely."
I watched him fuss with his face and hair until he felt that he looked good enough to get dressed.
"My turn?"
"Eh..." He glanced at himself one more time. "Not yet. Why don't you see if breakfast is ready?" he coaxed.
I sighed and walked out of the bathroom feeling only half put together.
Codsworth hovered in the kitchen with a coffee pot. "Ah, good morning, Mum! Your coffee for you. One-hundred and seventy-three point five degrees Fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection."
"Thanks, Codsworth." I took the coffee pot from him and poured it into the mug he had set out for me — my favorite mug with the phrase "I hate my job" in big bold letters.
"Of course, Mum!" He returned his attention to the sink and started washing the dishes.
I rummaged through the fridge to see what we had. I was debating on doing grocery shopping. It was unbearably empty in there. We had a stock of Nuka-Cola, a carton of milk, some sandwich meat, a Salsibury Steak, and a half-empty bottled water. I went back to my coffee mug and took a sip, taking notice of Nate's Grognak the Barbarian comic that he left lying on the counter.
Nate entered the room and picked up the newspaper from the counter that Codsworth had brought in this morning.
Shaun started crying in his bedroom then.
"Ah, sounds like someone made a stinky," said Codsworth. "I shall tend to young Shaun." he made his way to Shaun's bedroom with haste.
Nate spoke after Codsworth left the room. "I know we were nervous at first, but I'm glad we got Codsworth."
I smiled and looked over his shoulder to see the headlines of today's paper, The Boston Bugle. My smile faded as I read more of the same: nothing but rumors of bombs. The weather forecast was playing on the TV in the background. I absentmindedly watched the weather report and sipped my coffee.
"We should take Codsworth to be serviced soon, don't you think?" Nate muttered behind me. "Ah, and it's almost Halloween. We need to finish making Shaun's costume."
I took a moment to reflect on how my morning was going. I was finally getting back in touch with Nate, my son was beautiful and healthy, and Codsworth helped keep the stress down in the house. My maternity leave was almost over and I fretted about returning to work, but otherwise, my life couldn't have been better.
The crying stopped, but Codsworth was still in Shaun's room. "How's it going in there, Codsworth?" I called.
"Just fine, Mum! And don't you think about touching the laundry! I'll get that!"
The doorbell rang.
Nate looked up from his paper and arched his neck to see if he could tell who it was through the window. "... It's that salesman again. I don't know why he keeps bothering you."
Me? There's more than one adult in this house...
Since he obviously wanted me to get the door, I put my coffee mug on the counter and straightened my light blue button-up blouse. I opened the front door, and sure enough, I was greeted by an enthusiastic and somewhat nervous salesman with a clipboard in his hands. He wore an unusual yellow coat and a yellow hat to match. A bright red tie poked out of the neckline of his coat.
"Good morning! Vault-Tec calling!" He tipped his hat.
"Uh, good morning."
"Nice to finally find you, ma'am. You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you."
"Then I guess I'm glad I opened the door," I said, forcing a smile. "My husband and I haven't been home a lot. We just recently had a baby and it's been hectic visiting family and keeping appointments."
"I understand completely. And congratulations on your newest addition to the family, ma'am."
"Oh, thank you."
"Now, I know you're a busy woman, so I won't take up much of your time. Time being a precious commodity. I'm here today to tell you that because of your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local vault! Vault 111!"
"Sounds great," I said with a slight shrug.
"Oh, it is, believe me. Now, you're already cleared for entrance, in the unforeseen event of, ahem, total atomic annihilation. I just need to verify some information, that's all."
"Tell me more about this Vault."
"Oh, it has all the amenities of a modern home, I assure you. Not to mention total protection from nuclear radiation and hostile mutants. 'A Better Future Underground.' It's not only our mission; it's our passion."
Now it was just starting to sound like that crap on the news. I sighed and humored him. "What kind of information do you need?"
"Let's see..." He proceeded to ask me questions about my weight, height, diet, and other things, like if I wore glasses or contact lenses, was currently on any medication, etcetera. He asked the same questions about Nate. Then, he asked for my occupation, full name, husband's full name, and Shaun's full name. Lastly, he asked if we had any disabilities or health-related habits such as smoking or drinking.
"Wonderful! That's everything... Just gonna walk this over to the Vault!" He awkwardly backed out of the doorway. "Congratulations on being prepared for the future!"
As he rushed down the sidewalk, I shut and locked the door.
"Hey," said Nate from he couch, "it's peace of mind. That's worth a little paperwork, right?"
"I guess for you and Shaun, no price is too high."
"Good answer." He smiled.
"I have my moments." I sat with him on the couch.
Codsworth returned to Shaun's room when he began crying again. After a few moments, he came to the living room. "Mum, Shaun absolutely refuses to calm down. I believe he needs some of that 'maternal affection' you seem to be so good at."
"Go ahead, honey," Nate said with his nose in the TV. "I'll be there in a second to help."
I got back up and walked to Shaun's room. "Hey, little guy," I said to the crying baby, rubbing his belly with the palm of my hand. His crying subsided at the sound of my voice.
After a few moments, Nate appeared in the doorway. "My boy isn't giving his mother any trouble, is he? Hey, I just fixed that mobile on his crib the other day. Why don't you give it a spin?"
I spun the mobile over Shaun's head that adorned three red and blue rocketships. He was still too young to understand anything he was seeing, but he seemed fixated on the bright, moving colors. He quietly watched with curious eyes.
"That's my boy. On his best behavior, just like his dad. Well, most of the time, anyway..." Nate rubbed my arm. "Hey, listen. After breakfast, I was thinking maybe we could head to the park for a bit. Weather should hold up."
I was surprised. It had been a while since he wanted to go anywhere. It was lie ever since we had Shaun, we had re-entered our honeymoon phase.
I wanted to suggest something more hands-on. "Let's get some pumpkins instead. Carve Jack-o-Lanterns!" I was getting excited.
Codsworth called from the livingroom with concern. "Sir! Mum! You should come and see this!"
"Codsworth? What's wrong?" Nate asked.
We made our way to the living room with haste. I took Shaun in my arms before leaving his bedroom. Codsworth turned the TV up for us to hear.
The news anchor sounded unusually upset. I rocked Shaun in my arms but he started crying again. I handed him to Nate — Shaun had shown quite an affinity for his father already. Nate cradled him against his chest and, sure enough, Shaun's crying slowed to a halt.
"Followed by... yes, followed by flashes, blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions... We're... We're trying to get confirmation..." There was a pause. "We seem to have lost contact with all our stations."
"What did he say?" asked Nate with disbelief.
"Oh, no..." I breathed heavily. My heart was pounding as panic began to rise in me.
"We have reports, I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations —"
"We need to get to the Vault! Now!"
"I've got Shaun! Let's go!"
I called over my shoulder, regretful that we weren't allowed to take our robot into the Vault with us. "Codsworth, be safe!"
"You as well, Mum! Oh, dear..."
We left poor Codsworth in the house and sprang out the door. As soon as we did, alarms started going off outside from what sounded like all directions. It was total chaos within an instant. The townspeople of Sanctuary Hills were fleeing. There were armed soldiers outside on the sidewalk who had been stationed at Vault 111 for this purpose.
"Residents of Santuary Hills," said a man over a loudspeaker in the street. "If you are registered, evacuate to Vault 111 immediately!"
Shaun started bawling due to all the noise and quick, bouncing movements of Nate running with him in his arms.
Nate held him closer to his chest. "Hold on, little guy! Hold on!"
Registered or not, everyone in town was desperately running in the direction of the vault. Everyone crowded around the gates, hoping that the personnel there would take pity on them and have mercy. They were wrong. Only the people on tat list were allowed inside the Vault. The horrifying reality that their time was running short struck me and churned my stomach.
"That's absurd!" yelled the Vault-Tec sales representative to the soldier at the gate. "I am Vault-Tec! Let me in!"
"You're not on the list. You don't get in." The soldier at the gate crossed his arms calmly.
"I'm going in. You can't stop me."
Another soldier behind the first pulled a gun on him, causing everyone to panic.
"Whoa, whoa!" The salesman held up his hands. "Okay, okay! But I'm reporting this!"
The soldier at the gate addressed us and the rest of the growing crowd. "If you're in the program, step forward. Otherwise, return home!"
Nate and I pushed past the sales rep and a few others in front of us.
"We need to get in! We're on the list!" he said.
"Names please."
"Nate Isham. This is my wife, Gwenora Isham, and our son, Shaun. Please, hurry!"
The soldier checked his papers. "Okay, go ahead." He motioned us through calmly.
"Thank you!" Nate cried.
As we proceeded through the gate, a woman grabbed my arm. I whirled around, startled at her firm grasp. She had tears in her eyes and screamed, "Please, trade places with me! Please! Please! I don't want to die!"
I tried to yank my arm away from her, but her nails sunk into my skin. "Let me go!" I cried. "Nate!"
He was already ahead of me with Shaun in his arms.
One of the soldiers smacked the woman in the face with a police baton, knocking her down in front of the crowd and drawing blood from her nose. I took the opportunity to run and catch up with Nate and Shaun. Nate was almost at the top of the hill and didn't realize I had been held back.
Behind me, another woman screamed, "We're going to die out here!" It was followed by the sound of a few gunshots from an automatic weapon, and the people panicked even more.
"Next person that tries to push through this gate will meet the same fate!" shouted a soldier.
Tears were welling up in my eyes as I ran for safety and left everyone else behind. My heart was still banging away in my chest at the sudden gunshots.
I met Nate at the Vault entrance — a huge gear-shaped platform on the ground painted blue and yellow with the number 111 in the center. There were already other people there from our town and some others I didn't recognize. The ones I did recognize with us on the platform were all people that had some sort of history with the armed forces.
"Step on the platform, in the center!" called a soldier.
"Almost safe," I said with relief, catching my breath and wiping my eyes. "Is Shaun okay?"
"He's fine. What happened back there?"
"A woman grabbed me. I think she was hysterical." I looked down at my arm where deep, red scratches had formed.
"Jesus Christ," Nate said. "Hey, look at me."
Our eyes met.
"We're going to be okay. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Just then, a nuclear explosion went off mere miles south of our town, and a rumble shook the earth beneath our feet. An orange mushroom cloud lit up the sky. It was massive; the deadliest, most incredible thing I'd ever seen. There were screams and widespread panic, but none of us dared to budge — not when we were so close to safety. The tears rolled down my cheeks from my bewildered eyes. I was too horrified to make a sound.
A soldier was yelling at another who stood inside a small operating room where the large lever controlling the vault's entrance was contained. "Now! Now! Send it down now!"
"Hold on!" Nate yelled as he clutched our baby tightly to his chest and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
The floor beneath us started to move. It gave way and we started descending into the Vault. It felt like it was taking an eternity. The explosion was sending a wave of desolation through the distant trees, and it was only a matter of seconds before it reached us.
"Can't this thing move any faster?!" yelled Mr. Whitfield, a veteran, in front of me.
His wife went into a panic as our heads finally reached the edge of the entrance. "Oh God oh God oh God oh God..."
There was a whoosh of air over our heads, nearly knocking us from our feet. The mere secondhand force of the explosion was enough to relay how much devastation was wrought. As the Vault entrance closed above our heads, I knew that everyone standing outside — the soldiers, my neighbors, maybe even Codsworth — was dead.