Contractor: Chapter - 21

“Is that all then?” Amy hummed in a singsong voice. I couldn’t reply, I was still speechless from the discovery.

“Whatever,” Hope answered quietly. “You can talk, too.”

“Thank you.” Amy’s voice was still cold. “Albert.” She nodded to me as she walked out.

“You’re upset.” I didn’t really want to comfort her, but I didn’t have a choice. It was in my nature. “Is there anything I can do…?” I wasn’t sure if there was actually anything I could do to help. I was the cause of this problem, so there was very little chance of also being the cure.

“No, I’m fine.” It looked like she’d calmed down, but she still had a sad look on her face. “Still bored though.” She laughed weakly.

“I might have just the thing for you.” I stretched my arm across to where Hope had placed it earlier and dropped A Tale of Two Cities in her lap. “It’s worth a reread, I find you always notice interesting details the second time around.”

“Reading will only last so long. You need something stronger to live for when you live forever, Al.”

“I live to write. That’s about it.” Which was not true at all. I had no idea why I was alive, what purposed I served or should serve. If I said that though, it wouldn’t be all that comforting.

“I meant me, Al. I don’t live for anything. I get my life handed to me on a silver platter, I don’t have a purpose.”

“That’s awfully serious for a conversation that started with boredom.” I didn’t like the way it was making me feel. I really didn’t have a purpose either. I couldn’t write forever, but I didn’t want to die and that looked like the only other option. I knew exactly how she felt.

“Sorry, back when I was human, I would have these deep convoluted philosophical discussions with my friends. That was a long time ago, I guess people have other things to fill their time with these days.”

“People still do that, sometimes.” I recalled one time I’d had one such conversation with my mother where we’d both gotten extremely political and laughed so hard when we found something we could agree on. It was one of the few fond memories I had of her. “You’ve got a good point too.”

“Really? I was kind of just talking without paying attention.”

“I find that’s when people say the most honest and real things. So if we don’t live for anything, are we really alive? If not, what’s the point of living forever?”

“At least you have a reason.”

“I was being sardonic.” I laughed.

“Sardonic?”

“Grimly cynical.” I explained.

“Ugh, story of my life.” Hope laughed, I pardoned the horribly cheesy double entendre and laughed with her. “How do you survive living so aimlessly?”

“I should be asking you that, you’ve been doing it longer.” It made me wonder how she was still sane… although she wasn’t really, which was strange because she was acting so normal now, like she had these kinds of conversations all the time. In reality, neither of us did. “That, and I’m hardly what you’d call living.” I tapped my chest over where my heart should have been beating.

Hope leaned in and held her ear to my heart. I knew it wasn’t working anymore, and she’d been the one that told me I was mostly dead. I couldn’t even feel the pressure of her head against my chest. My body was dead, but my soul kept my blood moving and my mind working. All the other “unnecessary” functions normal humans had just didn’t work.

“You still feel more alive than I do.” Hope finally said as she rested her head against my shoulder. “You’re still human.”

“How does being a contractor make you any less alive?”

She grabbed my hand and pressed it against her chest. I couldn’t feel anything, not that there was nothing to feel but I couldn’t feel anything at all.

"I’m… I can’t... feel… anymore, you’ll have to prove your point another way.” If I could still get red in the face, I probably was, but I couldn’t feel it.

“Listen then.” She let go of my hand and gestured for me to listen to her heart like she’d just done.

I couldn’t hear anything. This was probably what she’d been trying to prove with my hand. I’d kind of gotten the picture the first time, this just sealed the deal. Her heart wasn’t beating either.

“That only makes us even. You’re no less alive than me.”

“No, trust me. There’s a difference.” She looked hesitant to speak but I just waited. “You’ve still got a heart, it just doesn’t work anymore. Contractors don’t have hearts, just a bunch of souls that don’t belong to them. It makes us live forever, but like you said, if I don’t do anything with my forever it’s not worth it.”

“It’s also a convoluted philosophical discussion that ultimately amounts to nothing. You’re alive because you’re alive.”

“You were right the first time. Now you’re just trying not to make me feel better.”

“Is it working?”

“A little.” Hope half smiled.

"Good, that other way was too depressing. There’s no solution to that kind of thinking. Sad thoughts only lead to more sad thoughts. To question the meaning of one’s life would indicate a serious sickness of the mind.”

“Not entirely…” A mischievous look had started to play across Hope’s face.

“What?” The way she was looking at me made me incredibly uncomfortable.

“You gave me an idea. I could just find something to live for.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple. Finding a new purpose in life is…” She was still just staring at me. “Seriously, what’s with you?”

“Thank you.” She went back to leaning her head on my shoulder. I could still feel her looking at me… just not physically.

“Fine, keep it to yourself.” I sighed.

“I intend to.” I could hear her smirk.

There was a moment of silence before she spoke again.

“What would you live for if you could actually live again?”

“I don’t know, I can’t just answer that kind of question right off the bat. You gotta give me some time for that kind of thing.”

“All we have is empty time, and all we ever do is think about things.”

“You’d think we would have things figured out by now then wouldn’t we?” I hadn’t actually taken the time to think about anything important though. Having all the time in the world made you too lazy to use it.

“What did you live for before? As introverted as you were, you must have still had some goals in your life.”

“I don’t know, I’ve always just kind of done what everyone asked me to do. I went to school because it was what I was supposed to do, I was going to go to college because it’s what my teachers wanted. I even started writing because people kept saying I was so good at it, though that one still applies.”

“Now you’re just on your own. That sounds kind of sad. You’re like a little lost, mostly dead, puppy.” I frowned. That was the last thing I wanted to be.

“Not exactly…” I had a more serious job I was supposed to do. The Old Man wanted me to destroy the mirror. That was a very serious task, and an outright demand to boot. It was just another request though, something that had been thrust on me. Hope had turned her head and was looking at me curiously. “Your dad still wants me to write books.” I faked a laugh. I didn’t want her to know about the mirror, the Old Man's words of warning were coming back to me.

“Seriously though, what would make life worth living for you?” Hope prodded me again with the question, this time I knew she was going to demand an answer that would satisfy her.

“It would just be whatever would make other people happy.” I sighed. It was too true.

“Help me be free then, undo all the contracting in the world so we can be free.” Hope gave me a devilish smile, the kind you expected to get from a rebellious teen that wasn’t being all that serious, but there was a layer of sincerity in her request that I just didn’t get.

“If it will make you happy, then sure.” And like that I caved. I had no ambitions left, and I was completely dependent on a girl for my happiness.

“I like you Albert.” Hope sighed. “I’m glad you’re not all dead.”

“Me too.” I whispered just loud enough for her to hear as I put my arm around her back.