Grandma Robot by Fay Risner Page A

guess,
out of the haze emerged a black cow. She perked her head up at the
sight of Karen and Henie and cocked her tail.
    Karen hissed. “A – a cow! A big
cow. What do we do?”
    Henie eyed the cow. “Keep walking.
She's not …. .”
    Karen grabbed Henie's arm and
jerked her sideways, causing the robot to stumble. “Watch out. You
almost ran into a cow. We're in the middle of the whole herd. This
is all Amy Brown's fault.”
    “I'm more than willing to let you
pass the blame on now that you're ranting and raving, but how could
this be Amy's fault?”
    “She shouldn't have programmed the
bad idea app into you that got us in this mess. Wh – what do we do
now?” Karen stuttered.
    “Sing,” whispered
Henie.
    “Really? Sing?” squeaked
Karen.
    “Cowboys used to do it all the
time while they circled the cattle,” Henie said in a low
voice.
    “I'm not real fond of western
movies, but I'd swear those cowboys sat high above the cattle on
horses where it was safe,” countered Karen.
    More cattle emerged from the mist
to surround and stare at the women. “You think we're going to run
into two horses in this fog we can mount?” Henie
quipped.
    “Of course, not,” snapped
Karen.
    “Then we better wing it while
we're a foot and sing,” Henie advised.
    “What tune did you have in
mind?”
    “I think a hymn
would be appropriate since we're in this predicament. We could use
some divine help. In The Garden seems perfect. Do you know it?”
    “I don't have it memorized. I
usually sing it from a hymnal at church,” Karen
grumbled.
    Henie squeezed Karen's hand. “Well,
hang onto me for moral support and follow my lead. Just do the best
you can. Sing low and no sudden movements.”
    Karen watched one very curious cow,
edging along with them. Her nostrils flared as she sniffed them.
“You should tell that to the beast following us.”
    “Just start
singing.” Henie took a deep breath and began. Karen joined in.
“ I come to the garden alone while the dew
is still on the roses, and the voice I hear falling on my ear the
Son of God discloses. And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
and He tells me I am His own; and the joy we share as we tarry
there, none other has ever known. ”
    They finished the song as they came
to the fence line. “We're here,” Henie said, sounding relieved.
“See we found the cemetery.”
    As easy as that
was for you, even in a fog, I'll just bet you've been here
before , Karen thought.“Thank goodness, and
I think we lost the cows.”
    “That was the idea. I thought that
song was right for the the spot we were in. Didn't you? Of course,
as off key as you were, they probably got tired of listening to us
mutilate that pretty hymn.” Henie turned east and went through the
gate in the cemetery fence.
    They walked through the moisture
laden, calf high grass as they skirted along the fence line by the
graves. Karen's jean legs and Henie's skirt soaked up the moisture
like a wick in a lamp.
    Henie rounded the corner and
stopped by the two older sandstones belonging to the Cranes. “This
is who I came to see.” Her voice was sad as she patted the top of
Clell Crane's tombstone.
    “Why did you insist on coming here
today in this awful fog?” Karen complained.
    “Today is Clell's birthday.
They're the people in the picture I showed you in the attic,” Henie
said. “I just wanted to pay my respects to him on his
birthday.
    You're from a different generation
so you may not be aware of it but visiting loved ones in the
cemetery is something humans used to do. On Memorial Day, they left
flowers on loved ones graves. I've always thought just any time is
right to leave flowers or pay visit. It doesn't have to be just on
a once a year holiday.”
    “Don't you think it's time you
told me more, Henie? How about telling me the truth for a change,”
Karen said.
    “I have always told you the
truth.” Henie sounded put out.
    “Maybe, but you do it a bit at a
time. I figured out some time back