When I was a child, I would take long road trips with my grandfather. Just him and I down the straight and solid Kansas Highway. Sometimes we would drive all night, and as the sun would begin to set, he would lull me to sleep with stories from his past, his childhood, his memories. My favorite was about a young girl he called Amanda Meszaros.
As he told it, Amanda was born to a family of great privilege, a station in life which allowed her to see all the corners of the world, but also juxtaposed a jail in which she almost always sat, alone, in her beautiful taffeta dresses, with her thoughts and her things.
An intelligent girl, she was acutely aware of the privileges and limitations her post in life and size of her father's bank account afforded her. Amanda's mother passed when she was just seven from the fever, something she recovered from but her Father, a distant and ill-tempered man who loved brandy, books and thoroughbreds, never could.
Other than his hobbies and expectations for her, she knew very little of the man she called Papa. The third week of every month he would come to their country estate, Amanda's full-time residence where she was cared for by nannies, cooks and tutors, for one weekend. Upon his arrival she was to greet him in the parlor for cocktails and conversation before dinner. As he would run through the requisite questions and status updates (math grade?, science score?, piano level?) he would puff on a foreign cigar, a smell that made her stomach turn.
Tutored in her home and forbidden to socialize unless on a trip with her father, Amanda's only friend was Nona, a busty Jamaican who served as her wet nurse during Amanda's infancy. At night, Nona would sit on her truckle next to Amanda's bed and tell stories about different lives and times and adventures - tales of camping trips in the jungle, war protest, dancing on the shore under the moonlight to Paul Simon. Tales of being free.
Amanda dreamed of having such adventures of her own one day. Of freeing herself of her father's tyrant rule. Of having friends and laughing so hard her stomach ached. Of running in the rain. Of walking on a city street and eating ice cream. Of drinking beer. Of being happy.
It was the night before her 14th birthday she had the first of many dreams. Had she of known the magnitude of what was to come, she would have tried harder to remember. But, as she would have never known (how could she have?), the next morning as she sat over her breakfast of hardboiled eggs, raspberries and soy gravy, all she could recall about the curious dream was the sound of steel when it rubs together and a vision of what she could only describe as prancing metal legs.
One night she awoke from one of those mysterious dreams, they had now been coming almost nightly for the past few months, and was startled with what she saw. She jumped out of bed, almost tripping over Nona, and ran to her window which overlooked a great pasture. In the distance under the moonlight Amanda squinted. She didn't understand what she was seeing. She couldn't.
"Darre com'in fo you chiidt," said Nona, who was now standing behind her and stroking her perfect hair while overlooking the same unbelievable sight. "Don'tchoo be scaaad now. Don'tchoo be, deeya chiidt."
The next night Amanda decided to wait up, hoping they would once again return. Nona had the night off and decided to go into town for one of her church groups, which was led by Friar Tuck. She watched the seconds on her clock waiting. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. "Please don't let me sleep, please let them come back," she whispered over and over again to herself.
Though she wasn't sure why, maybe it was dreaming about these beings for almost a year, or maybe it was finally seeing them, but she wasn't scared. She longed for the unknown to begin, for her life to change.
Then, without notice, there was a tap on her third-floor window. Startled, she got up slowly, feeling the cool hardwood floor under her feet, and opened the window. There stood two figures with white boxy bodies and long metal arms and feet.
"Hello," said Amanda.
"Hello," the two beings said in unison. "Are you ready?"
"But, what are you?"
"We are your future. We are robots. And we would like for you to join us," said the lead robot who called herself Lindsay.
"I don't understand," said Amanda, already packing her bag.
"You don't need those items where we are going," said the one who called himself Dave. "It is a magical land. There is wilderness and trains. A woman named Oprah and great buildings. When you are ready, climb into my hand and I will show you the way."
As Amanda looked around her room and at all her beautiful things, she knew the only person she would really miss was Nona. She shed a tear and rubbed it on Nona's pillow as a parting gift. Then, she climbed out of the window and into Dave's hand.
As she did, a sudden and rapid transformation occurred. Her body grew stiff and hard. Her legs got long and wobbly. She grew in length and in width. She was a robot now, too.
With this she started sprinting through the great pasture feeling the wind on her skin. It was exhilarating. She felt powerful and strong, two things she had never known.
As she and Lindsay and Dave ran through the forest she realized something amazing. This was her new life now, as a robot. This change was just the beginning of all her adventures.
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