I Built My First Robot

I built my first robot in the basement of Pteetneet Academy when I was seven years old. I had been jealous of the other boys in my class being excused on Grandparent’s Day. I didn’t have any living grandparents and had to stay in a stale classroom learning geometry while they went to the Golden Onion Retirement Center for bingo and strawberry cake.

I named the robot Grandpa Joe. He had a coffee can head and googly eyes, blue wires that sparked at the elbow joints, and could speak fluently in five different languages: English, Swedish, Polish, Portuguese, and Hawaiian. He stooped at the hips and hunched his shoulders. He called me ‘Champ’ and could pull quarters from my ear on demand.

Grandpa Joe was my first robot and my best friend.

When I got older my parents wanted to send me to parochial school. I told them I wanted to go to engineering school instead. They told me they were disappointed. They said they would pay for parochial school. They said they would pray for engineering school.

I built replacement robots for my parents. They had mannequin faces, an upgrade from Grandpa Joe’s coffee can. The new robot parents were excited for my journey to engineering school, they helped me pack, they drove me to the bus station. They worked very hard to assist me in scholarships and maintaining good grades.

I made a best friend, and we built robots together. We found the best shapes for aerodynamics, the best wires for vocal range, the best hardware, the best software. We graduated with high honors.

My friend wanted to sell our robots. I loved our robots like family.

I built a replacement robot of my best friend. It was a quick and smooth process this time, I was literally a professional. I built it out of spare parts and gave him a sleek glass face to see all his gears moving when he spoke. We watched movies together and when I told him jokes he would give out a loud guffaw that always made me laugh in return.

I met a girl and fell in love. We held hands across the table at dinner and kissed on a bridge under the bright moonlight. We looked deep into each other’s eyes and bore our deepest secrets.

My girlfriend wanted a home deep in the country and I did not.

I built a replacement robot of my girlfriend. She was an improvement on the original by far with long velvety hair and a rubber face with soft pink lips. Her eyes could focus in on mine when we stared at each other. We wed on a spring day under the falling pink petals of a cherry blossom tree. I built us three robotic children and we lived in the city suburbs.

I built a replacement robot of my boss.

I built a replacement robot of my neighbors.

I built a replacement robot of the postman, the grocer, the pharmacist, the mayor, the firehouse dog, and two little old ladies who sat in the park.

I replaced every person I encountered in my life with a robot.

I lived a very eventful, a very successful, and a very productive life. I grew older and decided to revisit my origins. I found myself sitting at the top of the biggest hill at Pteetneet Academy, legs crossed beneath me, the smell of fresh cut grass in the air. I plucked a dandelion and felt the gooey white sap make my fingers sticky. I was unhappy.

“What’s wrong, Champ?” asked Grandpa Joe, putting a robotic hand on my shoulder.

“I’m getting old Grandpa Joe. Why don’t I feel happy?”

“Happiness, for you my boy, is something you have to earn by sharing,” Grandpa Joe’s eyes jiggled as he spoke.

“I share it every day with all my robots,” I said.

“Isn’t that exactly how you programmed to be? Exactly what you want? Exactly what you expect?”

“Well, yes, I programmed them that way. I’m getting everything I want and that should make me happy.”

“How can you feel happiness without understanding sadness, my boy? You’ve accomplished taking away the free will of those who love you. You’ve prepared to be one of the gods, creating life itself, under cruel circumstances. Champ.”

“But the humans around me, they wanted to take away my free will.”

“Rather than find the humans that support you, you replaced them with objects forced to support you. It was never real. You never mourned, you never felt sad about it.”

“What happened to my real parents, Grandpa Joe?”

“Your real parents replaced you with a robot. He graduated first in his class at parochial school.”

“What happened to my real best friend?”

“Your real best friend replaced you with a robot and they became very successful selling robots.”

“What about my real girlfriend?”

“Champ, your real girlfriend replaced you with a robot and they got married in a fall wedding under maple trees. They have three robotic children and live on a farm deep in the countryside.”

“Do I need to make amends, Grandpa Joe?”

“It’s 2050, Champ. Let the past go and live for the present. Let yourself mourn what’s been lost and then let the future unfold.”

I hugged Grandpa Joe, his metal casing cool against my cheek. I looked out across the hill at the sun setting pink and orange over the city skyline. I pulled open the robotics master control panel on my phone. It held the controls for all my robotic creations and, with a healthy amount of fear and a few streaming tears, I selected the button that updated the system.

“PERFORMING THIS ACTION WILL CREATE SENTIENCE,” came a flashing red warning on my screen.

“Everyone deserves free will,” I said out loud and pushed the button again.

A weight was lifted off my shoulders and replaced by the sadness I had built up and buried away.

“I’m proud of you, Champ,” said Grandpa Joe.

“Even if you don’t have to be?” I asked.

“Even if I don’t have to be,” said Grandpa Joe and draped a sparking elbow around my shoulder.

We watched the sun set fade over a bright new world of possibilities as Grandpa Joe pulled a quarter from my ear. I smiled my first smile of true happiness.

THE END