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“For pity’s sake, don’t pace. You’re going to wear the planks to sawdust, and you’re giving me a damn headache.” Mender rubbed his forehead.
Robbie walked over and stared at Mender’s mouth.
Mender threw up his hands and grumbled, “Now see what you’ve done. My damn robot’s at it now.” He glared until Robbie backed up a couple of steps.
“It’s not my fault. You’re the one who’s taken up cussing. Maybe you should watch your language.” Liberty looked toward her cabin for the hundredth time since Patch had come that morning.
Mender snorted. “Me, watch my language? That’s great advice from a woman who curses every other word.”
Liberty rolled her eyes and shot him a skeptical look over her shoulder as she walked by – yet again. “That’s an over exaggeration. I’ll have you know I’ve been cutting back on my cursing. I’m trying to set a good example for my younger brother.”
This time the snort came from Justice.
Liberty only stopped long enough to point a finger at him. “And you should be in bed. Just a few hours ago you were unconscious, and you still look like death warmed over.” She stopped pacing long enough to push a long, red lock of hair back from his eyes. His face was covered in raw, open cuts. She was very much afraid that some of the gashes were going to leave lasting scars.
He pushed her hand away. “I’m fine. Mother always told me I had a hard head. It will take more than a few wooden crates falling on me to kill me.”
Liberty threw up her hands. It was useless arguing with any of them. And what was taking Patch so long? What if he couldn’t repair Boy? What if the technology Boy’s father used was too advanced or just too different from anything Patch had ever seen before? After all, she had never seen another robot that could use its eyes as lights, and certainly not store photos. What if Patch only made Boy’s condition worse and then no one would ever be able to repair him?
Damn. Damn. Damn. Liberty could stand it no longer and so headed over to her cabin and peeked in. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Boy was standing in front of Patch, mimicking his every movement. Patch raised a hand and wiggled his fingers, and so did Boy. Patch opened and closed his eyes, and Boy did the same.
Liberty rushed in and hugged Patch, then hugged Boy. “You fixed him! I can’t believe it,” she squealed and hugged Patch again. “I mean, I wanted to believe but was too afraid to.” She patted Boy’s head. “And he’s okay. He’s really okay.” She couldn’t stop smiling.
Patch remained stoned-faced, but then she didn’t really know him all that well. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him smile before, so maybe it didn’t mean anything. She looked at Boy again. “He really is okay isn’t he? I mean, he’s up and moving,” but Boy hadn’t spoken since she had entered the room, but then she hadn’t really given him much of a chance.
She turned back to Patch. “Is Boy okay?”
“He’s running, but only time will tell if his memory has been lost or not. I don’t know the effects of salt water on his type of technology.” He walked behind Boy and adjusted the intake valves on his dehumidifier. “I think it’s a good idea to leave this installed. Maybe it will help with his recovery.”
He stopped and looked Liberty in the eye. “The technology used by Boy’s creator surpasses my knowledge by eons. The man must have been a genius. I have no idea what most of the things in your robot are meant to do, so I’ve left them alone. I’m hoping, since I was able to get him up and running again, that these things will automatically reset themselves over time. It only makes sense that Boy’s creator wouldn’t have wanted such a finely crafted piece of engineering to be turned into scrap metal the first time it got wet.”
Patch shrugged. “Or it could be he just thought it never would. Who am I to say?”
“I don’t know how to thank you. I’ve gathered your supplies together and I’ve asked Mender to carry them to your place when you’re ready.” She hugged him again. “You’ve been nothing but kindness to us. I know you could have simply stayed in the shadows and watched Justice die, but you didn’t. You could also have refused to help with Boy, but again you didn’t. You’re a good man, Patch. If you ever need anything from me, I’ll do everything within my power to help.”
Patch snapped his heels together and bowed. For the first time since they’d met, he smiled. “It’s been my pleasure. I don’t get many chances to come to the rescue of a lovely lady, and I suspect I won’t get many more.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “The only favor I ask is that on your next visit you stop by and say ‘Hi’ to an old man.” He picked up his tool bag and added, “And if you have any spare apples, bring a few with you. I’ve never tasted anything so wonderful in my entire life.” He winked and then left.
Liberty watched him go before placing both hands on Boy’s shoulders. “So what do we do now, Boy?” He didn’t answer, but when she blinked, he did too. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.