Mechanical by Pauline C. Harris

located
him in the mechanical parts department downstairs, a place I rarely
went considering the android-told rumor that our origin had begun
in that old and cramped area. It bothered us to look at the various
screws and metal slabs and envision a person coming to life from
them.
    “Glen,” I called, when I saw him, hurrying
through the door and trying to ignore the strong smell of iron,
metals and dirt. Mechanical parts were stored here, untouched and
unsterilized.
    “Hey Drew,” he said, smiling. “How was your
day?”
    “Fine.” I looked around at the room filled to
the brim with metal, screws, and mechanical parts. I wondered if
what I really wanted existed in here.
    “Did you need something?” he asked.
    “Oh ... yeah. I was wondering ...” I trailed
off, suddenly feeling silly for asking him this kind of question.
Certainly Glen knew what was best, right? I was surprised to find
that I couldn’t even be sure if I believed that anymore. My mind
was changing so rapidly I was having a hard time catching up with
it.
    I paused, shuffling my feet for a moment.
“Could you get me a soul?” I asked quietly, looking up at him and
hoping with all my heart that he would just open his mouth and say
"yes." That it would be that simple.
    But when I saw his face cloud over, my heart
sank. “Drew ...” he said with hesitation. “You don’t need one.
Don’t worry about it.”
    I felt my hope slowly diminishing. “But, is
it even possible to get me one?” I tried again.
    He opened his mouth but no words came.
    “Anywhere?”
    He shook his head, and then smiled, trying to
brighten up the mood. “You don’t need to worry about stuff like
that. You’re perfect , remember?” He smiled in what I guessed
to be a reassuring way, but it only made my mood worse.
    I didn’t reply.
    “You don’t need a soul. You’re already
perfect the way you are.” Then he went back to what he had been
working on before I came in, inspecting piles of metal and sifting
through them.
    I turned to leave but suddenly changed my
mind, standing up straighter and facing him. “You have one, right?”
I asked him.
    He looked startled. “Um ... yes, I believe I
probably do.”
    “Then why can’t you get me one? You got me my
arms, my legs, my eyes, my whole body—everything. It couldn’t be
that hard to just get one more thing.” By his body posture, I could
tell he was upset, and knowing Glen, something inside of me told me
to stop pushing, to let the subject drop, if only for a little
while. But at the same time another part of me, a rebellious part,
a part I didn’t even recognize as myself but wanted to meet and to
learn from, pulled me from my doubt and forced me to keep
going.
    “Drew, you don’t need it,” he said, his voice
hardening.
    “I guess I don’t need it, but I would
really like to have one. I’ll work extra hours, I’ll clean around
here, I’ll ...”
    I'll do anything.
    “No!” Glen almost shouted, turning to face
me, a glare etched into his features.
    I gaped at him, taken aback, my bravery
dissolving like snow on a warm day.
    “I don’t want you to want one. I want
you to realize you don’t need one and be satisfied that I made you
the way you are. You are far superior to any human being, with or
without a soul.” He spat the words at me, malice lining his
tone.
    I stared at him in shock. “Okay,” I
whispered.
    He turned his back on me and went back to
work without another word.
    I stood there for only a few seconds and then
hurried for the door. But just as I approached it, I saw someone in
the doorway, a gorgeous, black-haired girl with dark, mischievous
eyes. Yvonne.
    Great.
    I slid by her and shut the door.
    “What was he talking about? He seemed angry
...” Yvonne asked, and I could actually detect a hint of concern in
her voice. How unlike her.
    “I was asking him if he could get me a soul,”
I said without meeting her eyes as we walked down the hallway. I
didn’t look up. I didn’t