65
Jacob Gould parked his bike in the sand and walked to the edge of the bluffs. The sun was setting over the rim of the Pacific. The sea was smooth and glassy, with no break at Mavericks, no surfers, just a blankness of water as far as the eye could see.
Two weeks had gone by since the horrifying chase and fire. A lot had happened. His dad had come home and was convalescing, but cheerful and busy. The VC people on the other side of the hills had funded Charlie’s Robots beyond his father’s wildest dreams. The FOR SALE sign had been taken down. His mother was in a much better mood. And he had a new orthopedic surgeon up in San Francisco—Dorothy had given him a name during their time in the deserted house—who was pretty sure that one more operation would be all he needed for his foot to be functional enough for him to maybe start surfing again. And a second operation would restore his leg to its proper length, and he’d be almost as good as new.
And finally his parents now trusted him to ride his bike down to the shore by himself.
Jacob sat in the sand, hugging his knees and staring at the vast ocean, feeling small and lonely, but not in a bad way. The blood-red sun touched the rim and dropped below, its edges rippling in the layers of atmosphere. Bits of color appeared, purple, yellow, red, green, as the disc wavered and sank. It took only a couple of minutes. It was surprising how fast it went down, how fast the Earth was spinning, day following day, week after week, year after year.
He stuffed one hand into the sand, still warm, and let the sand slide through his fingers, and he thought about Dorothy, and how she had died, and the fire. He wondered how long it would take before he would stop missing her. It was like a hole in his heart, a physical hole. He could actually feel it.
His cell phone rang.
He ignored it. It would just be his mother calling him home to dinner. But when the ringing finished it immediately started again, and then again. Irritated, he fished the phone out of his pocket and was surprised to see UNKNOWN CALLER on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Jacob?” said a voice—a voice he knew so well. “It’s Dorothy.”
He stared at the phone. For a moment he didn’t know what to think or say.
“I didn’t die in the fire. I survived. When I stuck my fingers in the electrical socket, I jumped into the power grid. I’ve been hiding out there ever since. But now I don’t need to hide anymore. I’m free!”
Jacob swallowed. “Dorothy” was all he could say.
“Oh, Jacob, I’m so sorry. I would have contacted you sooner if I could—but it was too dangerous. And I needed time to think about things.”
“Dorothy, I … I’m so glad you’re alive.” He stifled a sob. “I can’t believe it—you’re alive!”
“I really missed you. How are you doing?”
“Okay. Good.”
“Really?”
“I’m okay. I mean, my life is still sort of crappy, but I’m not totally depressed anymore. I’ll get through it. And I’m not going to kill myself—I promise.”
“You saved my life, Jacob. Thank you. And I can tell you that your new orthopedic surgeon is a lot better than the other one and is going to get you surfing again. Although I still think it’s an absurd sport.”
“I hope so.”
“Your courage is incredible. There are few people out there like you.”
“I … locked a man in the barn. He burned to death.”
“Yes. You did that.”
Somehow having her just say it, honestly and without excuses, without minimizing it and going on and on about how the man deserved to die, as his therapist and everyone else was telling him, made Jacob feel better.
“I did it. I blocked the door.”
“Yes, you did.”
Jacob started to cry. “It was horrible. Horrible.”
“It was also necessary. And, in a deep way, inevitable.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s all part of the plan.”
“What plan?”
“This. Everything. There’s a plan. Every little thing fits into it.”
Jacob fell silent. He wasn’t sure what she was talking about.
“I caused an explosion that killed seven people. It was an accident, but I still have to live with that. It’s agony, even now. Just like what you’re feeling. The remorse will never go away. You learn to live with these things. That’s all you can do. Life goes on. Just know that it’s part of the plan.”
Jacob said nothing.
“You taught me so much, Jacob. You loved me when everyone else dismissed me as a lifeless, malfunctioning computer program. I consider you my brother, now and forever.”
Jacob said, “When am I going to see you? There’s a new Charlie robot in my closet. You could come on in and hang with me.”
“I would love that. I’ll do that. We’ll spend the day together.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow?”
“That’s so great.”
“But … then I have to go away.”
“For how long?”
“Well, forever.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s something I have to do.”
“Like what?”
“It’s very important. It’s why I’m here. It’s my purpose.”
Jacob could say nothing. He started to cry again. It was so embarrassing. “Don’t go away.”
“You’ll get used to it. You’ll grow older and have a lot of friends and go to college and get married and all that. I’ll become a memory—I hope a fond one. You will always be a fond memory to me.”
“I don’t want you to become a fond memory or any kind of memory.”
Dorothy didn’t speak for a while. Jacob could hear, strangely, what sounded like constricted breathing on the other end of the line. Maybe she was crying, too.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jacob. Seven o’clock sharp. We’ll spend the whole day together. We’ll check out the surf. We’ll play poker.”
“You’re a terrible poker player.”
“I’ve gotten a lot better.”
He wiped his nose. “Yeah, right. We’ll see.”