Junkyard Pirate Read online

  “Holy crap, did you just use a hundred words to tell me I’m nutless so why bother?”

  “I am attempting to communicate why this line of conversation is unproductive.”

  “Yeah, that’s just what I was thinking,” AJ said and allowed his eyes to close.

  It was dark when he regained consciousness.

  “I am gratified that you have awakened once again.” The woman’s voice returned.

  Muddled as his thoughts were, AJ found it difficult to imagine his hallucination could be so consistent, although he considered, perhaps, that the appearance of consistency was a facet of the hallucination. He tried to shrug but still had no feeling below his chin. And, he could no longer rotate his head. Darn it.

  “Is that you, Beverly 492-yada-yada-yada-yada-zero-B?” he asked.

  “Yes, Albert Jenkins,” she answered. “Your physical deterioration has accelerated. You will not survive an additional rest cycle. I would offer a proposal before you lapse again. I believe this will be our last opportunity at conversation.”

  “You’re a strange one, aren’t you?” he asked. “But you’ve caught me at a good time. Proposition away. I feel like I tried to have this conversation with you earlier and you called me out for equipment malfunction.”

  “Parasitic sentients are required under Cheell Union law to obtain permission from hosts with limited cognitive capacity before beneficial cohabitative pairing is initiated,” she said.

  “Limited cognitive capacity … wait, you just said pairing,” he said. “You really are propositioning me? And here I am without any feeling. Perfect.”

  “Pairing between host and guest is painless,” she said. “Also, there is no sensation that resembles the reproductive activity you appear to be suggesting.”

  “Say those words about limited cognitive capacity again. It all seems really judgmental, you know that? I’m just a dumb asexual neuter to you, aren’t I?”

  “I apologize. Humanity scores between forty-nine and ninety-two on the galactic sentience scale. From our conversation, I believe you would score within the upper eighties even in your deteriorated state. It is a most respectable score.”

  “What’s your score?” AJ asked, his eyelids growing heavy. The end was near and he regretted that he wouldn’t get to finish what had turned into an interesting, if not a little insulting, conversation.

  “One hundred-seventy-six,” Beverly answered.

  “Shit. Seriously? What are the bounds of the scale?” he asked.

  “Albert Jenkins, you will soon perish. With your permission, we will join and I will endeavor to resist the deterioration of your biological form.”.

  “Sure, whatever. Wait. Are you a bug that crawls in my ear …” AJ’s consciousness started to fade.

  “No, Albert Jenkins,” she said. “My physical being is measured in nanometers. Four hundred two to be exact. Please, I require your unfettered acceptance.”

  “One hundred seventy-six cognitive score? We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice fading. “Mi casa su casa. I accept.”

  Three

  A Rosie Life

  AJ awoke to the sensation of a breathing tube being withdrawn from his throat. His body was wracked with spasmodic coughing and he blindly pushed at hands which sought to hold him still.

  "Hey. AJ. It's okay. You're safe."

  AJ continued to cough but managed to croak out, "Get off."

  "Give him a second," AJ finally recognized Darnell's voice and his panic subsided as he cleared the last of the congestion in his lungs.

  "Mr. Jenkins, can you hear me?" a nurse asked, speaking in an overly loud voice. "You were in an accident and are in intensive care at Lincoln Memorial."

  "Dammit, girl. Just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm deaf. Stop shouting already."

  "AJ, she's just trying to help. Be civil," Darnell admonished.

  "It's okay," the nurse answered. "Head trauma and disorientation can cause irritation."

  Before he could answer, an older woman with an air of authority entered the room and picked up an electronic tablet from the end of the bed. "Mr. Jenkins, it's good to see you awake. We weren't sure you were going to make it. I'm Doctor Amanda Jayne."

  The woman held her hand out and tipped her head forward so she could look over her reading glasses.

  AJ attempted to lift his hand but discovered his wrist was restrained. "What the hell?" he growled.

  Jayne closed the distance, shaking his hand. "I don't think we'll be needing those anymore," she said, glancing at the nurse. "Mr. Jenkins, today is Wednesday, August eighth. You were admitted ten days ago after an accident at your home. Something about a stack of industrial material falling on you."

  "Rocket hulls. Call me AJ."

  The doctor lifted an eyebrow and grinned. "Rocket hulls," she repeated. She pulled a pointed metal object from her pocket and walked to the end of the bed where she drew back the sheets. "Tell me, AJ, can you feel this?" She lifted his bare foot and ran the tip of a metal pointer along its sole.

  He attempted to pull his foot back at the sensation but only managed a slight tremor in his thigh. "Dammit, stop that."

  She raised an eyebrow and smiled. AJ put the doctor in her mid-sixties, with short-cropped gray hair and well-earned wrinkles around her eyes. "Very interesting," she said. "Can you move your toes?"

  AJ complied, managing to slowly waggle his big toe on both feet.

  "What's going on, Doc?" he asked. "Am I paralyzed?"

  Jayne shook her head. "Surprisingly, no," she said. "You have four crushed vertebrae in your lumbar and several cracked within your thoracic region. Trust me when I tell you that moving your toes was well beyond my expectation for your recovery in a decade, much less the time you've been with us. With your permission, I'd like to run additional scans."

  AJ blinked as an eight-inch tall woman appeared on Jayne's shoulder, wearing exactly the same clothing as the doctor. The tiny thing waved her arms frantically as if to warn him of danger. Closing his eyes tightly, he shook his head.

  "Is something wrong, Mr. Jenkins?" Jayne asked.

  When he opened his eyes, the figure was gone. "No. Uh, you were saying?"

  "Scans, CT primarily," she said. "It appears our first assessment of damage was grossly overestimated."

  "Can you fix what's broke?"

  "Maybe after a few months of recuperation," she said. "Mostly, we need your body to heal itself. There's a possibility of more surgeries. It just depends on your progress."

  "No scans, then. I can't pay for what you've done already."

  "Perhaps we can talk tomorrow," she said, replacing the notebook in a holder at the end of the bed. "It's a lot to take in."

  "How long do I gotta be here?" AJ asked.

  Jayne seemed surprised by the question. "That's … well … I guess it depends on your recovery."

  "Well, I need to pee and I'm pretty sure you got something jammed up my willy."

  "You’re not in any shape to use a restroom," she said. "The catheter should alleviate your need for urination."

  AJ grunted as he painfully pushed forward, coming to a seated position, much to Jayne's surprise. "Come on, Doc. Do me a solid," he said.

  "You're an unusual man, Albert Jenkins," she said. "And just so you know, most male patients prefer a male nurse to extract catheters."

  "Wow, have you misread me." He sat back in his bed, arms over his head and grinned at her.

  "I'll get Tom," the nurse offered at his inappropriate comment.

  "I assure you, you will derive no pleasure from this," Jayne said, ignoring the nurse.

  "If it gets me a step closer to that door, I'm all in."

  "You might want to turn," Jayne said to Darnell, who'd taken a seat next to the window. Without further hesitation, she peeled back the blanket and deftly removed the catheter, eliciting a groan of pain from AJ in the process.

  "Crap. You got a wicked streak in you, woman," AJ said, squirming uncomfortably at the aftershock. />
  Jayne chuckled quietly. "Don't think you can say anything that'll surprise me, corporal."

  AJ narrowed his eyes. "You served?" he asked.

  "Vietnam, just like you. I spent my residency patching you boys up in the early seventies. Now stop giving my nurses trouble and I'll see what we can do to get you out of here." When she turned to the nurse, Albert caught a glimpse of a smile on her face. "Reduce pain meds to as-needed and we'll try solid food."

  With instructions provided, Doctor Jayne walked from the room without further conversation.

  "Good to see you up, buddy," Darnell said, when the room was finally empty. "I thought you were a goner when I found you in the yard. I had to get your front-end loader to pull those rockets off. I guess you're just too old and dumb to die."

  "Did you find Maxie?" AJ asked.

  "Yeah, sorry. I buried her next to the house, under the porch.”

  "That's nice. She'd like that."

  "Are you okay? I mean, you got a little freaky back there," he said. "Kind of looked like you saw a ghost or something."

  AJ considered telling his friend what he'd seen but maybe right now wasn’t the time. "Nah, feeling a little off from the drugs."

  Darnell nodded his head. "You need anything? I've gotta get going pretty soon."

  "You good for a cheeseburger?"

  "Lisa loaded your freezer with those pot pies you like," Darnell said, pulling to a stop next to the junkyard's entrance. It had only been three days since AJ woke up in the hospital. Even though Doctor Jayne strenuously objected, she'd finally relented when he pressed to be allowed to leave.

  "Any meatloaf?" AJ asked, a wicked grin on his face as Darnell transferred him to the wheelchair.

  "Don't joke," Darnell said. "She asked if she should make some."

  "What is it about your kind and meatloaf?"

  "My kind?" Darnell asked, wondering if AJ was baiting him.

  "Terminally married."

  "Remind me why we're friends?"

  AJ ignored the rhetorical question and pushed on the wheels, propelling himself to the chain link gate, his arms feeling stronger than they had in years. "Do you think Jayne has the hots for me?"

  Darnell carried AJ's bag and opened the gate. "You're too much. She grabbed your willy because she wanted to prove that it didn't matter to her."

  "Most action I've seen in years," AJ said. "But that wasn't what I meant. She said she wants to keep track of me."

  "What Pam ever saw in you, I'll never know," Darnell said, referring to AJ's deceased wife. "No, I think Doctor Jayne sees you as a medical puzzle to solve. You're a mystery. Woman like that don’t need a worn out old junker like you."

  "So, you agree?" AJ said. "She's interested."

  With a sigh of exasperation, Darnell shook his head. "Do you like your new ramp? The boys in engineering wanted to help out."

  AJ's eyes fell on the wide aluminum ramp that'd been installed, providing wheelchair access from ground level to the porch.

  "They also put a couple of hand bars in the bathroom and next to your chair."

  AJ nodded. "Tell 'em thanks. Solid bunch, that."

  "Lot of people pulling for you AJ," Darnell said.

  AJ had no idea what to say so he pushed onto the ramp and while difficult, found he was able to handle the grade, something the physical therapist suggested would be impossible.

  "Join me for a nip?" he asked, opening doors on the lower cabinets. He frowned when he saw that the contents had been shifted around. "Dammit. Where's my Scotch."

  "Lisa reorganized so you'd be able to reach things," Darnell said, opening upper cabinets.

  "I need to know where my shit is," AJ snapped.

  "Don't get cranky at me. Your shit's all here. It just got moved so you can survive."

  AJ sighed as Darnell set a bottle onto the counter in front of him. The exertion of coming home from the hospital had worn him out and his hands shook as he poured whiskey into glasses.

  "Yeah, sorry." He placed the glass between his legs and rolled over to his recliner.

  "I know it's been tough," Darnell said, pulling over a wooden chair from the kitchen and taking a swig. "You're lucky to be alive."

  AJ shook his head as reality seeped in. "You sure about that?"

  AJ shook the empty bottle of painkillers over his mouth. He'd spent the last weeks drifting listlessly through life, glued to the TV but paying it little attention. Sighing, he tossed the bottle into the trash, knowing he wouldn't refill it. He'd kicked painkillers in the past and didn't look forward to the process. To make matters worse, the recovery that started off so quickly at the hospital had stalled out. He was really in no better shape than when he'd arrived home.

  "Does this mean you will now cease using the opioids with which you have flooded your neural receptors?" a woman's voice asked.

  AJ heard it plainly, but when he turned, he was unable to locate its source.

  "Is someone there?" He picked up his empty Scotch glass, his eyes shifting to the empty bottle on the counter. Lisa and Darnell had been quick to deliver food but were less interested in supplying booze. Some friends. Bah.

  Sitting on the edge of his TV, the indistinct image of a woman appeared. He squinted, recognizing the repeating hallucination. "Can you see me?" she seemed to ask.

  He blinked and leaned forward. In the process, she shimmered and disappeared. "Yup, that's what I thought, I'm losing it."

  "I am Beverly 49231125-0-B. You have lost optical representation due to toxic levels of chemicals present in your body."

  "Yada-yada-B, I was wondering when you'd come back," he said. "What? Did the roof fall in on me this time? I can't figure out if I'm dead or still lying under a stack of rockets. Maybe I'll get lucky and Doctor Jayne will come dig me out."

  "It is imperative that you cease the intake of opioids combined with fermented plant material," she answered, flickering back into view.

  "Well, isn't that just lucky then. I'm fresh out of pain killers."

  "In observing your behavior patterns, it appears you are purposefully exhibiting self-destructive behavior. Is it your will to cease living?"

  "You know I'm on to you," AJ said. "You can't be a real alien. How could you possibly speak English? How could you possibly understand how the human body works? Even the mannerisms of your projection are too good."

  "And your conclusion is what?" Beverly asked. "Please, say it directly so there is no confusion."

  "You are a hallucination. A construct of my mind to deal with the fact that my body is failing."

  "That is understandable," she said. "It is not an uncommon response when pairing is made under moments of high stress. We are capable of causing hallucinations, indeed the projection I am struggling so diligently to present is akin to a hallucination. That does not negate our existence."

  "When did you become plural?" he asked. "I thought there was just one of you – Beverly 49231125-0-B."

  "This is correct, I am singular. My compatriots have not paired with you but have taken up residence in your dermal layer."

  "Like fleas. Is my subconscious trying to tell me something?" he asked. "This is very complex."

  "You have a surprisingly flexible mind, Albert Jenkins," Beverly said. "For your protection, I will cause you to sleep while your kidneys filter the remainder of the toxins within your body. I have a number of elements you must procure once this process is complete."

  He wanted to object but ended up slumped in his chair, fast asleep.

  AJ awoke with a strong urge to pee. He lifted from his easy chair, momentarily forgetting about his crushed vertebrae. Pain quickly reminded him of what his brain had neglected. Recognizing that he was halfway to the wheelchair, he turned and fell into it. With urgency he hadn't felt in years, AJ raced to the open toilet room and grabbed for the bars along the counter.

  "Holy crap!" he exclaimed as things below released explosively.

  "Are you ill, Albert Jenkins?" An eight-inch Beverly appeared
on the edge of the small square porcelain sink. She wore a white lab jacket, glasses, and even had her hair cut short, all à la Doctor Jayne.

  "My willy feels like it's on fire and my wee looks like a caramel macchiato extra expresso!"

  "Oh, yes, we are in dire need of hydration," she said.

  Just hearing her mention water made AJ realize his mouth felt like cotton. Without getting off the toilet, he filled a cup of water from the sink and drank greedily.

  "Well done, Albert Jenkins," she said. "I have a few questions. Would you mind answering them?"

  "Questions? This ought to be good," AJ said, his certainty of Beverly's illusory nature waning as her image remained rock solid.

  "We have orbited the human-inhabited planet for forty-two cycles around your primary star. The technological level of humanity was limited when we first attempted contact. Further, we were unable to initiate a pairing. Now that we are planet side, we have observed the current state of technology and believe your civilization to have constructed a global communication network to which we would very much like access."

  "You're talking about the internet."

  "Yes. We have observed those words being utilized in a manner consistent with our description," she said.

  "You really like to use a lot of words when a couple would do, don't you?"

  "I prefer accurate communication over shorter exchanges."

  "Right. You want internet access, but if I recall, you're four hundred nanometers. I don't think we have a keyboard that small."

  "If you would hold your telecommunications device in your left hand, I believe I will be able to provide sufficient interface."

  "I gotta go again," he said. "This water's really moving through me."

  "Perhaps you could bring your device into the elimination chamber," she said. "I request further purging of waste from your fluid elimination system."