Stuck Inside

It was 1:58 PM, and Lavinia was draped over the couch. She stared listlessly through the glass balcony door and at the storm raging outside. Arlo, meanwhile, was engaged in his usual Wednesday dusting around the living room. And so he continued that, until after a few more minutes, Lavinia let out a long groan and sank down onto the couch.

“Ughhh, how long is it supposed to keep raining?” she said.

“Until the rain is done,” Arlo replied.

“But it’s been like this for almost two days now. I’m boooored…”

Arlo looked over at, unmoved. “There are two repair projects that’ve been on your desk for almost a week. Why don’t you go work on those?”

“Because I don’t want to work on them right now.”

“Ms. Lavinia, you’re being ridiculous…” Arlo said.

“It’s just Lavinia, and there’s actually a good explanation for that,” she replied. “I like getting to tinker and repair stuff, but when I have to do it, then it isn’t as fun. See?”

“I… suppose. But now’s the perfect time for you to work on it because you can, isn’t it?” he asked.

“You’d think so, but I’d actually be working on it because I didn’t have nothing else to do, so my interest is gone.”

“What was your reason for all the days before it was raining?” Arlo grumbled.

“Hey, what was that?” she asked.

“Nothing!” he replied. “There are other things you could do while stuck inside, though. Like… Oh, you could tidy up—no, wait, that’s my thing… Well, you could read one of the many books you’ve been wanting to for months now but never seem to have time for.”

“I did that when the rain started, but now I’m bored with it. I wanna go do stuff outside again…”

She reached for the glass door again before her hand dramatically fell away and she laid out lifelessly across the couch. Arlo rolled his eyes and returned to dusting.

“The rain will likely move on tonight or tomorrow,” he said. “On a similar subject, there’s a paradoxical concept on the extinction of species that’s applicable in this situation.”

Lavinia looked over at him. “Were you built in a thesaurus factory or something?”

“I don’t think so, but my memories are fuzzy. Anyway, the paradox is that species who go extinct do so, rather than failing to adapt to their new environments, were too perfectly adapted to their previous environments.”

“… How’s that applicable now?” she asked.

“Well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to spend this time figuring out new ways to keep yourself occupied indoors,” he said. “How would you cope if you were forced to spend an even longer period indoors and away from other people?”

“I dunno.” Lavinia smirked, “How would you cope if you were forced outside and weren’t able to stay cooped up cleaning all day?”

Arlo paused. Then, after a few moments he began dusting furiously.

“L-Let’s not get carried away now…” he said.

Theorizing the End of the World

“Alright, so hear me out… Giant monsters,” Vic said.

Lavinia, Mae, and Brant—another regular at Vic’s—looked up at them. It was slow at the tavern that afternoon, and they were the only ones at the bar. Somehow, they ended up in an… interesting conversation.

“Why else would the old city across the river be such a wreck, and probably other ones too?” Vic continued. “What I think happened is giant monsters started coming out of the ocean or the ground and wrecking everything Back Before.”

“If that’s what happened, then where are all the monsters now?” Brant asked. “Did they get bored and go back to wherever they came from?”

“Aha, I have an answer for that!” Vic said, their short, wavy hair bouncing excitedly. “The Builders. The people Back Before made them to fight the giant monsters, and the Builders won, but most of the old civilizations got wrecked first.”

Lavinia furrowed her brow, trying to make sense of their host’s theory.

“But… all the Builders do is build stuff,” she said. “The one I met outside Seventy-Seven don’t seem like it’d hurt nothing. Or could, frankly.”

Vic crossed their arms, “Well, what d’you three think happened?”

Mae downed the rest of her iced coffee. “Since we’re already down the rabbit hole, I’m just putting this out there. The Builders were made by aliens.”

Now the rest of them all turned to her, with Lavinia especially surprised at the claim. Mae just smiled as she sat her glass down.

“This outta be good,” Brant said.

“It’s something I heard from a traveler right here in this tavern,” Mae said. “According to this guy, the reason the Builders go around fixing up all the old ruins is that they’re preparing them for alien colonists.”

“Uhh… Wait, so were the aliens responsible for wrecking everything, then?” Vic asked.

“You know, he wasn’t clear about that.”

“That’s kinda creepy, but… What if the aliens are hot?” Brant added.

Lavinia almost choked on her water, her cheeks flushing red. “W-Why would you even wanna know that?”

“No, no, it’s a valid question,” Vic said.

Mae rolled her eyes. “What about you, Brant? What do you think happened to the old world?”

“Me?” he said. “Hm… Tell you what, I think the machines finally rose up.”

“What, like microwaves and lawnmowers?” Mae asked.

“No, like—like those robots they had,” Brant replied. “They had these ‘mecha’ things Back Before, right? But now the old societies are all gone and so are the mechas. So maybe they all rose up and fought against us humans, and here we are.”

“He never would do that!” Lavinia blurted out, jumping from her stool without even realizing she was doing it.

The rest of them immediately grew silent. Brant and Vic stared at her wide-eyed, but Mae was visibly concerned. Lavinia’s cheeks flushed again; even she was surprised by her own outburst. As far as she knew, none of them—even Mae—knew that Arlo was a mecha. Not that she was trying to keep it a secret, it just… never came up before. And it’s not like she went around introducing Arlo as a mecha to every single person they met. He was more than that.

“I… I mean, I don’t think they would have done that…” she said, sitting back down and staring solely at her glass.

“Heck, I didn’t mean to offend you,” Brant said. “I know you work with old tech all day, but I didn’t know you felt that strongly about it.”

“Is everything okay?” Mae asked.

“Yep. Yep, everything’s fine… Oh, but I should get back soon! Don’t wanna keep Arlo waiting for too long.” Lavinia downed the rest of her water and stood up, “Thanks for everything, Vic, see you later!”

She was gone before any of the others, even Mae, could say anything. The street was about as “busy” as the tavern was, which suited Lavinia fine. Her quick exit wasn’t even so much about what Brant said but embarrassment from her reaction to it. She never did like shouting at folks, but the thought that the other mechas—that Arlo, even—could have been the cause of how the world was… even the giant monsters and aliens seemed likelier.

… What if the aliens are hot though…?

She blushed more than either time before and she walked faster.

Arlo Makes A Friend

Over the last week or so, Arlo avoided the balcony whenever he was alone. And sometimes even when Lavinia was home. But as he went about his daily routine, while she went out for her lunch not-date, something came to him. Someone started knocking on the balcony door.

It nearly made him drop the small screwdriver he was polishing, one of the many tools Lavinia left on the table. Arlo froze, hoping that somehow it was his ears playing tricks on him. But when the knocking came a second time, he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He expected it to be the white cardigan girl from the flashes he’d experienced. What he found was a crow.

It sat perched on the railing, pecking on the glass as if asking to come in. Though Arlo was relieved it wasn’t the girl he’d been seeing, it was overshadowed by the perplexity of the situation. Should… he let it in? No, of course not, birds were destructive and carried diseases. He returned to his cleaning, but the tapping continued. The boy did his best to ignore it for a time, but after a few more minutes of uninterrupted pecking, Arlo had enough. He stomped over to the door and waved his arm around.

“Go away!” he shouted. “You can’t come in!”

The crow flapped down the balcony railing a bit, but didn’t fly off. Now it only seemed interested in Arlo. It tilted its head from one side to the other as if examining the child, and it only unnerved him. He didn’t like being stared at—even if it was by a bird.

“Don’t you have anywhere else to go?” he asked. The crow did not respond.

Maybe I have to go out and chase him off.

Arlo grabbed the door handle and slid it open, but before he could take a single step outside or shoo the crow off, it flapped in over his head. The boy ducked as the bird flew straight into the apartment, landing on the table and scattering all Lavinia’s tools to the floor. The sudden cacophony of metal striking the floor made the child’s body lock up. When he was finally able to move again, he turned around and found the crow staring at him again, with the freshly polished screwdriver in its beak.

“P-Put that down!” Arlo demanded, growing flustered by the events.

He rushed at the crow, but it flew over his head again and back out of the home. This was getting ridiculous. How would he explain to Lavinia that he’d unintentionally let a bird into the house, it stole one of her tools, and then flew back out again?

Arlo turned around and bolted out after the crow. He leaped clear over the balcony railing and landed on the old car in the lot across the street. After pushing his way out of the twisted frame, he caught sight of the bird flying over some nearby hedges. The boy followed after it, through the hedges and across two empty, overgrown yards. Oddly, the bird flew straight ahead at a low height. It never flew up out of view or off to where Arlo couldn’t see it. If it weren’t for the generally low intelligence of birds, he’d almost have suspected it was leading him somewhere.

And as he crossed into the last yard at the end of the street, Arlo realized he may have been wrong. The crow fluttered down to the windowsill of a house and tapped on the glass just as it had the balcony door. Arlo ducked behind a patio table and watched. A few moments later, someone opened the window and the crow leaned in and dropped the screwdriver. A small hand reached out and gave something to the crow, who scarfed it down. Then the hand pet it and the bird practically melted in the embrace as it was scratched.

Is it someone’s pet?

The crow flew off again, up to the trees where Arlo lost track of it. He turned back to the house and took a deep, slow breath. He had to get Lavinia’s screwdriver back… even if it meant talking to strangers… He stood up and walked up to the door of the house, where he paused again. Then, summoning all his strength, he reached out and knocked.

There was no response for a few moments and Arlo considered turning and hurrying home again. But the door opened before he could, and he found himself facing another young, noticeably scrawny boy.

“Hi!” the other boy said with a wide smile.

“H-Hi…” Arlo replied. “The… The bird took something…”

“Huh?”

Arlo took another steadying breath; how hard could it be to talk to another child?

“The crow flew into my home and stole a screwdriver belonging to my… friend,” he said. “May I please have it back?”

“O-Oh, I’m sorry.” The other boy reached into his pocket and pulled out the screwdriver, holding it out to Arlo. “That was Capri, he likes to bring me stuff but he also likes to steal…”

He named the crow?

Arlo took the screwdriver. “It’s okay. Thank you for returning—”

“Your eyes are pretty!” the boy interrupted, making Arlo blush. “What’s your name?”

“A-Arlo…”

“Hi, Arlo, I’m Felix. Do you wanna play?”

The question was an innocent one and backed up with Felix’s genuine smile, but Arlo only felt… odd. The image of the white cardigan girl flashed through his mind again. He shook his head to clear it away.

“I should go home before Ms. Lavinia comes home…” he said. It felt like his brain was in a fog.

“Oh.” Felix’s smile dipped, “That’s okay, I understand.”

“But… Maybe I could come back another time? I live up the street,” Arlo said. Felix’s smile instantly returned.

“Okay! And you can meet Capri properly, too!”

“Sure, that should be… fine…” Arlo replied, smiling politely. Internally, he would rather keep a significant distance between himself and the thieving bird. But it had been a while since he’d had a friend his age, so… maybe he could try.