Broken Things (3 page)

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Running a diagnostic check,” the tech replied, “Hold
still.”

Josh felt a small pinch on the back of his neck and suddenly
his vision went blurry. “What’s happening?”

“What do you see?” Mr. Norton asked.

Josh started to answer, but the tech talked over him.
 “It looks like there’s quite a bit of internal damage to his circuit
boards. He’s got a few bad sectors in his drive, and his looks like his CPU is
damaged. He’s functional, but I don’t know for how long.”

Mr. Norton frowned. “And? What’s it going to take to fix
him?”

“To be blunt,” the tech said with a snort, “You’d be better
off buying a new kid. How long have you had him?”

“I’m twelve,” Josh said helpfully.

“We’ve had him three years.”

“Yep,” said the tech, “Three years is a pretty good run.
Some families don’t even get that long from this generation. Now the
new
models, you’ll get up fifteen if taken care of properly.”

“They said
this
one would be good for fifteen. I’ve
got friends with the same generation going on five.” His father paused, then
said, “Give me a cost. What’s it going to take to get him good as new?”

“Minimum? Twenty-thousand.”

“Twenty-thousand dollars?” Through his blurry eyes, he could
see the all-familiar anger in his father’s face. Josh was happy he wasn’t the
tech. “I could get a new kid for half that!”

“You have to completely refurbish these older models, and
they don’t make kids the same way anymore. He’s a Kidsmith, and they haven’t
released a new kid for at least a year now. His parts are all obsolete.”

Mr. Norton ran his hands through his hair. “Unhook him. I’m
taking him home.”

Josh felt the pinch in the back of his neck again, and his
vision immediately returned. His father’s face had turned a slight shade of red
with a vein pulsing in his forehead. Josh knew to stay out of his way when he
got like that. He kept his eyes lowered.

The tech, on the other hand, didn’t appear ruffled at all.
On the contrary, he seemed apathetic. “Would you like me to back up his memory?
Or replace the fan?”

“No. Come on, Josh.”

Josh hopped down from the table and followed his father to
the reception room where his mother waited. His wounds still hurt and his legs
trembled, but his father kept him on his feet with a hand hooked under his
armpit. His mother looked hopeful, but as she saw her husband’s face, she
frowned.

Josh looked fondly into his mother’s big brown eyes. They
were usually so full of compassion, it made his chest hurt to see her sad,
knowing that he’d caused it. He wanted her to hold him and stroke his hair, but
she was so distracted. Every time their eyes met, she turned away quickly, as
though she couldn’t bear to look at him. He wasn’t that broken, was he?

“I’m going to be okay, right?” Josh asked.

“Stay with your mother,” he said. He walked over to the
receptionist to settle his bill. Josh watched him for a minute before turning
to his mom.

“Look,” he said, holding out both arms and spreading his
legs, “I got stitches!”

“Wow, you sure did! You’ve got them everywhere! What did the
repairman say?”

“I don’t know but dad didn’t like it. He’s angry.”

His mother looked over at her husband as he handed the
receptionist their debit card. Josh wanted to make her happy, but didn’t know
what to say. “I’m sorry, mom.”

She glanced at him with a half-smile, but her eyes remained
on his father. Josh knew that if they were home, he’d be yelling. He hoped he’d
be done being angry by the time they left.

In a way, he got what he hoped for. His father’s anger had
diminished somewhat, but they turned the radio up loudly in the back speakers
so he couldn’t hear what they talked about. Josh’s mother turned and looked at
him once, tears in her eyes, but the rest of the trip they spent ignoring him.

6

One month after his accident, Josh helped his parents load their
SUV. They were still more distant with him than they used to be, and maybe a
bit more short of temper, but life had almost returned to normal. They rarely
let him go outside for long, but they made him play in his room most of the
time. The end of August had been rough, but today none of that mattered. Today
was perfect.

“Where are you guys going?”

Josh turned to find his friend William in their yard. He
hadn’t heard the other kid ride up, but with the continuous ringing in his ears
anything could have snuck up on him. “Hey Will,” Josh said, “We’re going
camping.”

“We went camping once.” Will said.

“That’s great, this is my first time. Well, gotta go. I’ve
got things to load.” To emphasize his words, Josh tossed his duffel bag of
clothes into the back of the SUV. His parents were in the kitchen packing food,
and arguing over what to take.

“What’s that sound? Do you hear that?”

“It’s my head,” Josh said, “I was in a crash.”

 “I was in a crash once.” Will stated.

“Did you get scars?” Josh said, flashing his elbows at the
other boy. “They took out my stitches last week.” Will couldn’t compete with
that, and his mouth hung open in appreciation. The dark red scars stood out in
stark contrast on the boy’s pale skin. The one on his left arm was nearly five
inches long. Josh then pointed to the scars on his knees. “Got these too.
They’re
lacerations
.”

“Do they hurt?”

Josh shrugged. “Not anymore. Now just my head.”

Will leaned closer and looked him in the eyes. “Doesn’t that
sound bother you? Are they going to get you fixed?”

“Eventually. It’s pretty expensive though.”

“Hey, do you remember Mike? That used to play with us at the
park?”

“Yeah.” Josh knew the story too, and didn’t want to hear it.
“I really need to help pack.”

“Remember when he fell off the monkey bars?”

“Of course. He died.”

Will shook his head. “No he didn’t. I saw him the next day.
They had him walking around and everything. He even waved at me when I went by
his house.”

“Then where did he go? His parents still live at the same
place.”

“I don’t know. They got rid of him or something. Maybe he
damaged his head like you.”

“You can’t just get rid of a kid,” Josh said, “There’s
laws.”

“Like throwing away batteries or old computers? Nobody pays
attention to those laws, and nobody wants a broken kid.”

“They’ve already paid to fix part of me. They have to wait
for my dad’s next paycheck to do the rest.”

“So have you met the kid that replaced Mike?”

Josh shook his head.

“I heard parents can trade old kids in for newer ones.”

“I don’t think they can trade in broken ones,” Josh replied,
but he didn’t say it with confidence. The tech had hinted at much the same
thing.

“They can, they just don’t get as much credit if the kid’s
been junked,” Will said, “What I want to know is where the kids go afterward. I
hear that you either get scrapped for parts for new kids and the rest they send
to a
kid cemetery
. But they don’t bury you, they dump you in a gigantic
pit of all the thrown away children. And if you’re not really dead you just sit
there and rot while the bugs and worms eat you down to your bones.”

“How do you know that?” Suddenly Josh didn’t feel so well.

“I just heard it somewhere. Maybe on TV.”

“That can’t be real.”

“Why not? We’ve got to go somewhere.”

“We’re just like our parents. They fix us if we break. We
can live forever.”

“Yeah,” Will agreed, “But I’m not going to get broken, just
in case.”

“I’ve really got to finish packing,” Josh said, “I’ll see
you when I get back.”

“Yeah, maybe. Bye.” Will hopped on his bike and didn’t look
back as he rode off down the street.

“Idiot,” Josh said under his breath. They wouldn’t throw
away children, they couldn’t. Parents, by definition, needed kids.

7

The SUV threw up a cloud of dust as it blazed a trail along
the dirt road. Looking out the back window, Josh watched the dust rise behind
them for miles, sometimes obscuring the very trees. The distant mountains had
always felt so far away, and never so big! Soon, his parents continued to
promise him, they’d find a campsite.

The trip felt like it had been going on for hours! Leaving
the city limits surrounded them with nothing but desert, but when they’d left
the highway and entered the foothills, the land turned from sagebrush to pine,
aspen and fir trees. Every turn around every bend brought higher and higher
mountains, the road taking them ever more upward. At one point they dropped
down and passed a beautiful blue lake filled with people in boats and people on
skis, people fishing, and people swimming.

“Can we go there?” Josh asked.

“We don’t have a boat, bud,” his father said.

“Can we at least play in the water?”

“We’ll find a spot next to the river. Most of the campsites
are near the water.”

“This lake is huge,” Josh said.

“It’s the Anderson Ranch Reservoir,” his mother replied, not
looking back.

“How big is it?”

“I don’t know, ten miles or so?” They drove along the lake
for a while before the road once more began to rise and leave the lake behind,
twisting into the mountains.

 The trees grew thicker and soon to their left a river
raced alongside of the road. Sporadically a cabin or campsites broke the
wilderness, but those became fewer and fewer.

“Do we get to stay in a cabin?” Josh asked.

“No,” his dad said, “That’s not the camping experience.
We’re here to get away from civilization. It’s about escaping people, not being
surrounded by them. In fact, if you want to be around people we could set up a
tent in the backyard. Then all you’d need is a wading pool. Hell, I think we’ve
seen more squirrels back at home, huh sport? Want to go back?”

“No.” Staying home would’ve sucked. His mother continued to
stare out the window and the scenery. Josh thought his mother didn’t want to go
camping. Her idea of a vacation involved a hotel and a nearby mall. His
father’s idea involved the garage. They were doing this trip for him. That’s
what they’d said.

Still further they drove, until his father found a dirt road
barely visible among the overgrowth and trees. The road, if it even qualified as
one, twisted and turned wildly, and branches scraped against the vehicle
causing his father to mutter curses under his breath. His father didn’t curse
that often, and it made the boy smile as much as it made his mother frown in
disapproval. They drove slower now, as every few feet bumps in the road jostled
the vehicle roughly, and Josh hung on in fear of getting smacked into the
window.

White aspens were thicker here than the pines or fir,
covering the mountains in green and white. This road hugged the side of a
mountain, and if his father were to but drift a few more feet to the right,
their rig would tumble hundreds of feet down the side of the slope. The thought
made his stomach clench, but he continued to stare anyway. Maybe some of the
trees would stop them.

Finally the road dropped down once more, bringing the family
to the river and a small clearing with just enough room for their vehicle and
the tent. Off in the shade of a large tree a rickety picnic table looked
forlorn and forgotten next to an empty fire pit. Josh leaped out before they’d
come to a complete stop.

“Josh!” His mother hollered after him.

He ran a few feet away and stopped, staring up at the trees.
They stretched far above him to form a canopy of branches and leaves. His
senses were assailed on all sides by nature. The air smelled different, of
water and plants and trees and dirt, not of car exhaust and whatever else the
city smelled like. And the noise! The wind rustled the leaves in a constant
symphony harmonizing with the steady melody of the river. Some kind of bird or
bug chirped a chorus over the top of it all. He couldn’t hear any traffic, and
he realized how truly far they’d come. Finally they were letting him do
something fun for the summer.

“What time is it, dad?” he asked as his father slammed his
door shut.

His dad didn’t bother looking at his watch. He rarely did
but had an uncanny gift of telling time. “A little after one. What do you think
of this place?”

 “It’s perfect!” Josh tossed his head toward the river,
flipping his straggly brown hair out of his eyes at the same time. “Can I check
out the water?”

His father smiled and nodded. “Go ahead. Don’t fall in.”

Josh dashed away, headless of his mother again calling after
him. The foliage grew thick along the river but once past that, it opened to a
rocky beach. The river looked wide, and though deep, he imagined that he could
wade across it without too much trouble, maybe if he found a good walking stick
to use as support.

He crouched down on the pebbly beach and shuffled through
the rocks until he’d gathered a fairly decent pile of skipping stones. He
couldn’t believe that after three years he’d only just talked his parents into
this trip. He planted himself in a sandy patch and launched the first stone
across the river. The water flowed too rapidly to skip anything too good, but a
deep spot provided just enough smooth water that he pulled off a few good
skips. Sometimes he’d attempt to drop a larger rock onto the horde of water
skippers that gathered near the bank.

He had a fairly full itinerary. He’d have to really push to
get in everything that he intended to do. Before they’d left, he’d made a list
on a sheet of notebook paper, which inadvertently he’d left behind. Still, he
could remember most of it.

Obviously he’d demanded a campsite with a river. They told
him he couldn’t swim in it, but they’d packed his swimming trunks anyway. They
probably expected him to splash at the bank like some little kid, but he knew
they had no intention of watching him the entire time. He stuck his fingers in
the water, the heat of the summer sun didn’t seem to warm it at all. He’d have
to just dive in later. There were supposed to be fish in the river too, and his
father had packed a fishing pole. He suspected that his father hadn’t been
fishing in a hundred years and possibly wouldn’t be doing much teaching.