I Am Automaton

Chapter 9

Peter was startled when his dad answered the front door. He looked tired and haggard. His mother’s death definitely took its toll on him.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Peter. Come in.”

They stepped into the living room. The house was dark.

“Who’s your friend?”

“Dad, this is Mike Lorenzo.”

Peter’s father offered his hand, “Barry Birdsall,” and Mike took it.

“Pleased to meet you, sir.”

Peter’s father stood there, not knowing what to say next.

“Dad, you should turn on some lights. It’s no good to stay in the dark like this.”

Peter flipped on the light and was startled by what he saw. There were dirty laundry, used paper plates, and organofoam cups everywhere. Part of a pizza still in the box was on the floor and half-under the couch. His father stood there with his hands in his pockets looking sheepish.

“Jesus, Dad. What a mess.”

He was embarrassed in front of Lorenzo, but most of all he felt bad for his father. Peter walked past him and into the kitchen. He turned on the light and found a mountain of dirty dishes piled up in the sink, more fast food detritus covering the kitchen table and some of the chairs, and the toilet off the kitchen was running.

Lorenzo stood next to him. “Need some help?”

“Mike, no. I’ll…”

“Pete, I invited myself here. The least I can do is help.”

Peter’s father shuffled into the kitchen. “You don’t have to do anything guys, really.”

“Dad, I can’t just let this happen. Mike, you know how to work a grill?”

“I’m from Texas, Pete. What do you think?”

Peter opened up the refrigerator. “We can cook up some steaks or something.”

However, the refrigerator was practically empty, save some half-empty bottles of various condiments, a six-pack of beer, and a full bottle of cola. There were food stains all over the inside of the fridge.

Mike looked over Peter’s shoulder and into the fridge. “Take out?”

Peter closed the door. “Take out.” He turned on the com unit. “Pizza?”

Peter’s dad smiled. “Pepperoni would hit the spot.”

“Sounds good to me,” Lorenzo added.

“Pepperoni it is,” Peter confirmed.

He dialed a local pizzeria and ordered two large pies with extra pepperoni. He grabbed a large garbage bag and took to the living room, picking up garbage and dirty laundry. Mike took the kitchen, where he began to load the dishwasher.

When the doorbell rang, Peter dropped what he was doing and answered the door. He paid the deliveryman sixty dollars, and he brought the boxes into the kitchen.

Mike had cleared off the kitchen table. Peter put down the boxes. A holographic advertisement for Joe’s Pizza flashed on the top box cover.

“Peter, let me pay you for that.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dad. It’s no problem. Sit down.”

They all sat down at the table and consumed pizza. In between bites, Peter’s father regaled Lorenzo with embarrassing stories from Peter’s childhood.

“We were at this barbecue at a neighbor’s house…”

“Oh, Dad, no. Not that story.”

“And Peter was playing catch with his brother and some of the neighborhood kids. He was ten years old, I think.”

“Oh boy, here it comes.”

Peter was laying it on thick, faking obligatory protest to egg his father on. This was their routine whenever his father told stories. He knew his father loved it, and he felt it might pick up his spirits, at least during dinner.

His father continued. “And a yellow jacket flew right up his shorts and stung him in the groin.”

Lorenzo, in the middle of chewing, grimaced and elbowed Peter. “Holy cow. That must’ve hurt.”

“Like you wouldn’t believe, man.”

“He was crying and crying,” Peter’s dad continued. “All of the other kids just stared at him in disbelief.”

“And then there was the time he had his brother Carl convinced that he had a magic force field around him. He used to drag his feet on the carpet and dare Carl to touch him. When Carl touched him and got shocked, he really freaked out.”

“Yeah, Dad, but you put a quick end to that. You explained to him what static electricity was. But it was a fun afternoon.”

They all laughed as they ate their pizza and drank their cola. When they finished, Barry was banished to the den to watch television with a glass of scotch while Peter and Lorenzo finished cleaning up.

Peter wiped his brow as he dragged several bloated garbage bags out to the shed in back. When he returned, Lorenzo was nursing a beer and leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Hey, Mike. Thanks for helping out. You didn’t have to.”

Mike took a gulp of beer. “No problem, Pete. I’m paying myself in beer.”

“Hey, not here. When my dad goes to sleep, we’re going out. I’m buying. There’s this local watering hole—a real shithole—but it’s close, it’s cheap, and the local girls love military men.”

Lorenzo perked up. “Oh, really. Sounds like fun.”

They kept Peter’s father company until he dozed off in his armchair. Then they crept quietly out of the house and walked to Frisky’s.

***

Peter and Lorenzo sat at the bar. They ordered two beers, and Lorenzo took in the atmosphere. “So this is the old stomping grounds of the mighty Lieutenant Birdsall.”

Peter smirked. “Aren’t you just overwhelmed with its awesomeness?”

Lorenzo had already made eye contact with a beautiful brunette across the bar through the smoke. The scent of sweat and sex saturated the air. “The local tail ain’t bad.”

Peter laughed. Lorenzo was a player, and apparently, he moved quickly. Peter guessed that he was able to walk the walk, making him a good wingman. “Do you have any places like this where you’re from?”

The beers came. Lorenzo took a swig before answering. “None this sleazy.”

Peter punched him in the shoulder. “Hey, thanks again.”

“For what, Pete?”

“For helping me with my dad.”

“No problem. He’s great. I wish I had a nice father like that.”

Peter gulped some beer, wiping suds from his mouth. “You two don’t get along?”

“Nope. Never did, Pete. He always had a problem with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“When I was little, I was too hyper or too messy or I was a cry baby. When I was older, I was too lazy or too stupid.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, man.”

“Yeah, well, I got out of that house any chance I got. I ran with other boys like me. We began to do things. You know, vandalism, stealing cars and taking them for joyrides.”

Peter put down his glass a little too hard on the bar, an indication of his surprise. “You? Really?”

“The local cops were cool about it. They’d always take me home. I begged them to lock me up, but I never escaped the beatings.”

“So why did you do those things?”

Lorenzo took a thoughtful sip of his beer. “To piss him off, I guess. It was worth the beatings.”

“He never got tired?”

Lorenzo was staring directly ahead of him at nothing at all. It was as if he was replaying his childhood like an old movie in his head. “Oh, he got tired. One day he told me that I was to join the army or he would throw me out of the house, and if I ended up in jail, I was on my own.”

“So that’s when you enlisted?”

“He took me to the enlistment center himself and watched me sign my life away.”

Peter downed the rest of his glass. “Shit, that’s heavy.”

“Oh, I was more than happy to leave that house. His years of criticism and abuse made Basic a breeze. You might say I was used to it.”

Peter called over the bartender. “Two whiskey shots, black label.”

Lorenzo nodded his approval.

“So, do you have any regrets?” Peter asked.

“No. I’m a different person now. The army taught me self-reliance…yet, I finally feel like I’m a part of something.”

Peter stared forward. “Yeah, I guess that’s what we all want.”

The shots came. They each picked up a shot glass.

“To belonging to something,” Lorenzo toasted.

“Bottoms up,” Peter responded.

They downed their whiskey.

“Smooth,” Peter commented, and then to the bartender, “Two more beers.”

“So why did you join, Pete?”

Peter had plenty of time to mull this question over given his brother’s recent decision to enlist.

“I was never a good student. I did okay, but let’s just say I wasn’t doctor or lawyer material.”

“Not that there’s any jobs for doctors or lawyers,” Lorenzo added.

“I don’t know. It just seemed right. Some people become cops, some people become firefighters, and some join the army.”

The two beers came.

“Yeah, I guess they’re all dangerous,” Lorenzo said.

“Exactly. Why don’t people ever see that? Especially a cop. A cop can be shot or stabbed at any time. But for some reason, it’s more acceptable than joining the army.”

Lorenzo was making eyes with the brunette again. She was whispering to her friend, who was now casting sultry glances. He elbowed Peter in the middle of sipping his beer, causing him to spill a little in his lap.

“What the hell?”

“Hey, Pete, enough about the army. Those two ladies have been eyeing us since we came in.”

Peter looked over, and the girls met his gaze. He felt the electricity from across the room. “Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

“Amen, brother. Why don’t we go over and introduce ourselves.”

They stood up. Peter stepped back and gestured for Lorenzo to go first. He wanted to see the man in action. “After you. I’ll cover you.”

Lorenzo grabbed his beer off the bar and sauntered over with Peter, where they were received quite warmly.