doorstep on a friday

A Story by Mes

“do you know how to explain emotions?”

Annabelle found herself on Elkhazel’s doorstep, carrying a huge box of bread.

She rang the doorbell and waited, ringing again once nobody answered, second guessing herself with every chime. The familiar tune felt like a painful screech in her ears, but she did not tap the button anymore, allowing the noise to slowly disappear. She set the box onto the welcome mat and turned around, adjusting her beret sadly.

The door swung open, revealing a disheveled Elkhazel. “Bot?”

“Hello,” Annabelle murmured and whirled around, lifting the box into her arms again. “I brought you bread.”

Elkhazel rose a brow before placing her hands on her hips, smirking. “What’s the occasion, Bot?”

“Please, do not call me that,” Annabelle requested, but her voice held no annoyance. “There is no occasion.”

Elkhazel hummed in response and plucked the box of bread from Annabelle’s arms, strolling into her home. When Annabelle did not follow, she inquired, “Coming?” which prompted her to follow.

“Your house is nice,” Annabelle murmured, placing her hand on a vase that held dead roses. She scanned the roses, her blue light flashing, before saying, “These flowers perished a month and three days ago. Why have you not thrown them away?”

Elkhazel eyed Annabelle with suspicious eyes before setting the box atop her kitchen counter. “I haven’t noticed them,” she lied.

“Oh.” Annabelle removed her hand and moved away from the roses, trudging into the kitchen. There was nothing on the counters or in the sink, so she assumed that Elkhazel had not eaten breakfast prior to her arrival. “Have you eaten yet?”

Elkhazel pointed to her wild hair that was not in its usual low ponytail. “I just woke up, dummy.”

“We can eat at a restaurant,” Annabelle offered with a small grin. “I like providing for my friends, since I do not have many.”

Elkhazel snickered and began putting the bread from the box into a bowl, earning a confused glance. She then questioned, “Even after you’ve brought me bread? Seriously, Bot, what’s the occasion?”

“There is no occasion,” repeated Annabelle.

Elkhazel stared at her for a few seconds before breaking the contact and smirking. “I’ll get dressed, then.”

Elkhazel left the room as Annabelle sauntered over to the couch and plopped down, causing the cushions to dip. She folded her hands and tapped her foot against the floor, the sound echoing throughout the entire house, annoying her more with every tap. She was prepared to leave the house and enter the restaurant by herself, thinking that she was forcing Elkhazel into accompanying her�"

“Bot.” A hand found its way onto Annabelle’s shoulder, startling her into jumping off the couch. She twirled around to face Elkhazel, who had a toothbrush in her mouth. “Gee, I didn’t know robots got scared.”

“T-They do not,” Annabelle insisted.

Elkhazel snorted and started toward down the hallway. “Good, because for a second, I thought you were scared,” she teased through the toothbrush, disappearing into the bathroom.

Annabelle remained standing, scanning random objects in the home. She discovered that the television had not been turned in three weeks, and the last thing that was played was a documentary about nature. Then, she noticed the crack in the screen, which was disconcerting, but Elkhazel entered the room and drew her attention away from it.

“So,” Elkhazel began, fiddling with the sleeves of her jacket. “Patch is gonna meet us at the coffee shop. She said she needs help with something, but I‘m not going to just bail on you.”

Annabelle simply nodded, grinning. She, however, despised the silence that fell upon them as they hiked down the street. Elkhazel always had a topic to speak on, whether it was good or bad, and it unnerved the android to know that the noises outside were not from them. Annabelle, though, hated awkward conversations, so she remained silent on the matter.

Saber was sitting on the bench near the door of the coffee shop, angrily glaring at children who pointed at her eyepatch. Elkhazel sneered and skipped ahead, and Annabelle directed her gaze toward the ground.

“You obviously don’t hate me that bad, considering you came,” Saber huffed.

Elkhazel rolled her eyes and sat next to her, leaving room for Annabelle on the bench. “Don’t make me leave, Patch.”

Saber glowered at the nickname and tried to push her off the bench, failing, earning a mischievous laugh at the attempt.

“What did you need, Saber?” Annabelle quizzed, gazing at her with curious eyes once she sat on the bench.

Saber hesitated before replying, “I need help finding a dog.”

Elkhazel gaped at Saber with an odd expression. She did not break eye contact, instead staring with fierce eyes, and Saber stared into her eyes as a response. Annabelle decided to not break the silence, and though it was deafening in her ears, the gaze that Elkhazel held was terrifying but unreadable.

Then, Elkhazel burst into wild laughter, attracting unwanted attention to the three. She howled, “You’re f*****g kidding me, right?”

“Shut up,” Saber growled through gritted teeth.

“This is great,” Elkhazel cried. “You lost a whole dog. The perfect Patch lost a dog.”

Saber responded calmly, “Well, I certainly wouldn’t lose half of one.”

Elkhazel jumped to her feet and slammed her hands onto her hips, puffing out her cheeks. “I’ll help you find the dog. Won’t you, Bot?”

Annabelle’s eyes darted between the two, finding that Saber appeared angry, and Elkhazel seemed ecstatic. “Of course,” she said innocently. “Saber would not ask for help if she did not need it.”

Saber groaned, “Thanks for the support,” before being yanked to her feet by Elkhazel.

“Can you give us background information?” Annabelle requested as she followed Saber down the street, resisting the urge to scan her surroundings.

Saber sighed. “I’m pet-sitting for my aunt. The dog got out through the back door, now he’s hiding in my backyard.”

“You’re terrible at hide and seek,” Elkhazel snickered.

Saber calmly stepped on Elkhazel’s foot, causing the latter to yelp in surprise and trip. Saber continued walking as Annabelle placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, offering a hand. Elkhazel did not notice the hand and instead pushed herself to her feet, rushing to catch up with Saber. She glanced behind her to confirm that Annabelle was following, and it was true that she was following, just slower than before.

“Your house is always so nice,” Elkhazel commented as the trio neared Saber’s home; Elkhazel was not wrong, either, as the home was small but beautiful. Then, she continued, “That was a compliment for the house, not you.”

“The house says f**k off,” Saber answered, unlocking the gate.

Elkhazel winked in response as she allowed Annabelle to enter the yard before her, closing the gate once inside. Saber guided them to the backyard before tossing her hands into the air, frustrated. “I’ve tried finding him,” she hissed. “If you two find him, I’ll do anything you want.”

Elkhazel brought her hand up to her mouth in mock surprise. “Anything?”

Saber suspiciously eyed her. “Yes.”

“I am sure that we will find him,” Annabelle interrupted with sparkling eyes. “You do not have to do anything in return.”

Elkhazel glanced at Annabelle with mischievous eyes, a small grin playing on her face. She placed her hands on her hips again and said, “She already promised.”

Saber rolled her eyes and disappeared into the house, searching every room for the pet again. Annabelle found it disconcerting that the dog was genuinely nowhere in the backyard; she and Elkhazel searched thoroughly, even scanning the lone apple tree for clues a last time before retreating into the house to tell Saber of their depressing discovery.

Saber frowned, worry coating her features. For a moment, she said nothing, and Elkhazel and Annabelle stood in silence, waiting for a statement. After three minutes, Saber mumbled, “Stop looking at me like that. I don’t care.”

Annabelle looked at Elkhazel for a split second, noticing the sympathetic look that she was now giving Saber.

“You do care,” Elkhazel countered.

Annabelle noticed the fiery look that Saber was now giving Elkhazel, but she said nothing and retreated into her bedroom. Elkhazel’s mouth curved into a frown as she turned to Annabelle and questioned, “What did I do?”

“I think she is upset,” Annabelle assumed. “We should search for the dog again.”

Elkhazel shook her head, flopping into a chair that was leaning against the kitchen counter. She propped up her head using her hands, staring at the refrigerator that held childish drawings of dinosaurs, almost all of them drawn with noticeable fangs. Annabelle hesitated before sitting in the chair next to her.

“That dinosaur reminds me of you,” Elkhazel murmured, pointing at the drawing of a purple dinosaur.

Annabelle examined the drawing; it was the only dinosaur that was not drawn with sharp, scary fangs. “Is there a reason?”

“It doesn’t have fangs,” she laughed fondly, a sound that made Annabelle’s words catch in her throat. “You’re too nice, Bot. That may be a bad thing.”

Annabelle cocked her head to the side. “It is?”

“Hm,” Elkhazel replied, which was not an actual answer, but Annabelle accepted it nonetheless. Elkhazel then stood and trudged to Saber’s bedroom door, knocking on it to the tune of a song that Annabelle did not recognize.

“I found the dog,” Saber shouted through the door.

Elkhazel stopped knocking but kept her hand on the door. “Where was he?”

“Under my bed,” she answered coldly. She sounded as if she was going to continue, but she remained silent, causing a morose atmosphere.

“Like I said, you’re bad at hide and seek,” Elkhazel joked, earning an irritated sigh.

Annabelle moved to stand beside Elkhazel, tapping on the door gently. “You seem upset, Saber. We will see you tomorrow, right?”

Saber merely said, “Okay,” before relaying the code to open the gate.

Elkhazel left through the front door, waiting for Annabelle to match her pace, for the latter remained at Saber’s bedroom door for a moment, contemplating the correct course of action. She decided to leave Saber with her emotions and left the house with a rain cloud hovering above her.

“I should return home,” Annabelle stated softly after Elkhazel closed the gate behind them.

Elkhazel shot her puppy eyes in response, but after looking at the sky, she shrugged and clasped her hands together. “I think it’s going to rain, anyway. Don’t get wet, Bot.”

“Water will not harm me,” Annabelle confirmed with a soft smile, waving to Elkhazel as she turned around and walked the opposite way. It began drizzling after she took a few steps, and she held out her hand, letting the rain fall into her touch and drip away. She glanced behind her and found that Elkhazel was gone, and she felt her heart twist at the discovery.

She began walking home, but she quickly found herself sprinting, desperate to escape the rain that poured from the darkened sky. She was physically fine, but a nagging emotion forced her to swiftly escape the area, plunging into her home upon arriving. She slammed shut the door and collapsed onto the floor with a thud, water seeping onto the hardwood. Using her cellular features, she dialed the only person that would be helpful in her situation.

“Calista,” she muttered sadly once the person answered the call, “do you know how to explain emotions?”

There was a sigh from Calista’s end, but her tone held no aggravation. “What do you mean?”

Annabelle pondered for awhile, but Calista waited patiently, not interrupting her thought process. “Elkhazel is very cool,” said Annabelle at last. “We spent time together a little today. It started raining after we parted ways, and I wanted to escape the rain. I am not scared of rain.”

“Maybe you felt lonely,” Calista suggested, her voice careful.

Annabelle did not move from her position on the floor as she said, “I do not understand.”

“Loneliness,” Calista repeated patiently. “You want to be around someone.” When Annabelle did not reply, she prompted, “Annabelle, did your creator provide you emotions?”

“I developed them,” Annabelle immediately answered, confused. “Why?”

Calista hummed in response, and Annabelle allowed her a second to form the correct words. “Any other feelings you’re having?”

“There is something.” Annabelle frowned and pushed herself into a sitting position. “Elkhazel seemed interested in Saber.”

Calista laughed softly before saying, “Annabelle, that’s jealousy. They’re enemies, though, so I’m sure everything’s fine.”

“I think they are,” Annabelle paused and scanned her sources for the correct term, “frenemies.”

“That’s valid,” Calista responded. “Are you okay, though? You seem really upset.”

“I am alright.” Annabelle forced herself to stand and trudge to her bedroom, sitting on the floor next to an outlet. She opened her charging port and plugged herself in, experiencing a swift, sharp rush of energy before calming. “Thank you, Calista.” She ended the call before receiving an answer.

Elkhazel, however, found herself pounding on Saber’s front door desperately. The rain crashed into her body, soaking her clothes and hair, though she was numb to the sensation. The knocking eventually ceased, and she placed her hand on the front door instead. When the door swung open, she did not enter, instead staring in shock.

“It’s raining, stupid,” Saber grumbled.

Elkhazel smirked halfheartedly. “I wouldn’t want rain on your perfect floor.”

“Why are you here?” Saber huffed, one hand on the door as if preparing to shut it. “You left not even an hour ago. Go away.”

Before Saber could slam the door, Elkhazel caught and pried it open again. She locked eyes with Saber and argued, “You don’t have an aunt, Patch.”

Saber rose her eyebrows, removing her hand from the door completely. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Elkhazel’s features gradually softened as she said, almost in a whisper, “Your aunt’s dog. You don’t have an aunt.”

“I do,” Saber insisted, her voice cracking on the second syllable. Then, after she realized that her voice ultimately betrayed her, she kicked the door shut with an angry cry.

Elkhazel quietly plucked her cellphone from her pocket, dialing Saber’s number, receiving the voicemail message. She did not quit, though; she called several more times, leaving three silly voicemails in the process, and Saber finally answered on the fourteenth attempt.

“When will you leave me alone?” Saber inquired.

Elkhazel slid down the door, sitting on the wet porch. The rain continued to splash against her body, but she barely cared or noticed, finding emotions more important. “I’ll leave you alone once you explain yourself, silly.”

“I have nothing to explain,” Saber answered coolly.

Elkhazel irritably sighed. “You don’t have an aunt, Patch. There was never a dog.”

“There was,” Saber growled. “You’re just blind.”

“You’re the one with an eyepatch.”

The line became silent and heavy.

“Sorry.”

Saber hesitated, and Elkhazel’s shaky fingers came to hover above the red button that would cancel the call. “There was no dog,” Saber finally admitted. “You know that.”

“I do,” Elkhazel confirmed.

“I wanted to spend time with you,” Saber murmured, her voice low. “I wanted to see if you’d really come. I’m not stupid enough to lose a dog, idiot.”

Elkhazel snorted, resting her arms at her sides as she used her shoulder to prop up the cellphone. “You are, actually. You could’ve just asked, you know, when I wasn’t busy.”

“Annabelle was nice to see, too.” There was a pause. “I’m not letting you inside, though.”

Elkhazel glanced at the sky, noticing the sun peaking through the rain clouds. “That’s fine. I’ll just break in.”

“You are not breaking my window again.”

Elkhazel happily laughed into the phone, “I could.” Then, she continued, “I’m going home. I’m not hanging up, though.”

“Good. Get off my lawn,” Saber hissed.

Elkhazel obliged, scrambling to her feet and hopping over the fence, already forgetting the code from earlier. Saber secretly watched through the window, her curtains shielding her from view. There was an eerie but comfortable silence, but Elkhazel eventually broke it by saying, “There’s a rainbow.”

“Cool. Go home,” Saber snapped.

“Maybe I’ll find your aunt’s dog.”

”Shut up.” Saber closed her curtains. “You’re annoying.”

Elkhazel snickered as she skipped down the street, jumping into every puddle that she noticed, spraying her clothes with more water. “You haven’t ended the call yet, so I must be amusing.”

“You’re annoying,” Saber repeated.

Elkhazel kicked rocks that littered the sidewalk, watching them skip across the street and smack against the first object that they found. “It’s a talent,” she remarked.

“Get a new one.”

“No.” Elkhazel neared her house, unlocking the front door with ease. She left her shoes outside to dry, and though the water from her clothes still soaked the floor, she shrugged. “Patch, you know how you promised anything if we found the dog?”

“You didn’t find the dog, stupid,” Saber mumbled. “You get nothing.”

“Don’t lie stupidly again,” Elkhazel pleaded. “That’s what I want.”

There was a tapping noise that echoed through the phone, and Elkhazel assumed that Saber was nervously tapping her foot. “Okay,” Saber said, which was not the answer that Elkhazel desired, but it was an answer that she needed.

“It was a dumb lie,” Elkhazel commented.

“Don’t push it,” Saber barked. “Focus on your soaking clothes.”

Annabelle, though, sat in her bedroom, considering Calista’s words. She did not understand emotions fully, but she knew that she hated every second that she had negative feelings. She felt lonely in her home, so she boldly dialed Elkhazel’s number using her cellular features. There was no answer, and the voicemail box seemingly did not exist, so she attempted once more.

She gave up after twenty-two attempts.