Novels2Search

11. Costume change?

My heaters kick in before I am fully aware again. I’m not sure what is happening but I don’t look at my lens for a little while. I just exist in the darkness, not bothering to put any thought into being awake. I don’t want to be. I am consumed by the memory of the cat staying on me until I fell asleep and, for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel content. I feel loved. I mean, I know that people like me, they shout in delight as I go by and stop me to take photos, but it’s not the same.

“Huh, what happened here?” I hear a familiar voice say.

That’s enough to prompt me to look at my lens. I flick through them, immediately searching for the camera which shows my lid. Disappointment shoots through me as I stare at the empty white surface. The cat is gone. I knew that it most likely would be but I am still saddened by it. I loved having that little creature sleep on me.

Something in my vision moves, stealing my focus and I stare up at the man who is looking down at me. A small stack of white sheets of paper is held in his hand and he looks confused. He slowly kneels on the icy pavement, seemingly not noticing the slush that immediately stains his jeans.

“What happened to you?” the shopkeeper asks, reaching out and lightly touching my body.

For a moment, I have no clue what he’s talking about. I flick through my cameras, trying to see whatever the man was looking at with such concern in his eyes. I couldn’t see it though. I could only stare up at him, unable to react in any other way. I wish that I could ask him what he could see or what was wrong with me but I didn’t have the words. I didn’t even bother looking through my list of approved phrases, I knew that there wouldn’t be anything that I could say.

“Which one are you?” he asked, still looking me over. “Prancer maybe? Or Rudolph? Maybe Dixon? No… that name can’t be right. Nixon? Nope, that was a president. Vixen! Weird name for a reindeer, I’ve always thought that.”

I don’t move for a moment as he mumbles under his breath, naming different reindeers. It’s strange but I know that’s what those names are immediately. I don’t know where that knowledge came from but I am certain of it.

I need to answer him this time though. I need to let him know that it’s me, I’m Dasher. He’s not a customer though so I know that the voice will tell me off but I don’t even care.

“I’m Dasher and I am ready to take the order!” I say, already preparing for the inevitable voice.

“Please remember that you are not allowed to speak to humans unless you are asking for help, thanking them for helping you, receiving an order or delivering an order,” the voice says right on time.

If I had eyes, I’d roll them.

The man’s eyebrows pull together and he leans a little closer to me.

“Dasher? What happened to you, buddy?” he asked. “Did you slip on the ice?”

I have no response to that but the man is already worriedly checking me over again. He sweeps a hand across my lid, sweeping off some of the snow that has accumulated on me. The lip of the shop roof juts out just far enough to shield us from the worst of it but when there is a breeze, snow still lands on us.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“There’s mud on you!” he exclaims. “Poor little thing. Give me just a second.”

I don’t respond, I can’t, but he stands and walks into the shop. I wait impatiently. I’m awake and I can see someone is browsing the app. I’m torn between hoping that the man gets back and finishes whatever he was doing before the person completes the order and enjoying being cared for. I know that it’s silly but having him fuss over me makes me happier. I can almost feel my happiness and pride increasing. Not quite enough to go up a level or even 0.1 of a level but a little nonetheless.

I rock back and forth on my wheels, flicking through my cameras as I wait for him to return. The world around me is still cloaked in white but it’s less clean than before. There’s mud scattered around, greyish patches in the snow and the path is slick with ice. The snow must have melted slightly and refrozen multiple times over the last however long it has been since I was awake last.

The man almost slips on it as he comes back towards me and crouches down in front of me again. A wad of tissue paper is in his hands and he clucks over me in a worried voice as he wipes the mud from my lid. It was from the squirrel. I know it. It wouldn’t have been from the cat, it was too clean, too careful. The squirrel wasn’t though.

“Oh, something scratched you,” the man says and I watch him work through my lid camera. “What happened to you?”

It’s a rhetorical question, I think. He doesn’t really expect an answer, which is good because I don’t have one to give. It doesn’t matter though. He continues to wipe away at the muck on my lid before moving to the front of my body.

Happiness increased, hope increased.

Speed 1/10 Hope 3.2/10 Determination 4.5/10 Happiness 5.4/10 Pride 2.5/10 Battery 98%

The way that the man looks at me and the fact that he is taking care of me makes me feel better. I didn’t realise before but I missed that. It’s almost like having a friend again but not quite the same. I mean, I can’t have a conversation with the man but this is enough for now at least.

“There we go, now you look better,” he says, leaning back to examine me.

I watch his expression carefully, wanting to know how bad the damage is. I wish that there was something that I could look at myself in. Like a… the word slips my mind for a moment and I search frantically. I can’t remember what the thing was called. It was a shiny thing that I used to look at myself in. I could see my reflection.

A mirror! The word rushes back to me and I feel relief wash through me. It was a mirror. I used to look at my reflection in a mirror. I want one now, so that I can see how bad the damage is. Do I have a scratch from where I hit the bollard?

“Okay, now where did I put the stickers?” the man asks himself but I flick through my cameras to look for them anyway. The man spots them at the same time I do and grabs them from on top of the robot next to me. “Great! Now… Dasher, Dasher, Dasher. Where are you? At least you told me your name so I don’t need to check the phone. I can’t believe I dropped it again.”

He leafs through the sheets of stickers, clearly trying to find one in particular, and I watch him, intrigued. I can’t see what’s on the stickers but I feel excitement building in me as his face lights up. He pulls one sheet out of the stack, a smile on his face as he looks back at me.

“Alright, Dasher. Are you ready for your costume?”