Author's Note

Many things inspired this story; some specific, some vague, indescribable feelings.

I got some inspiration from the idea of a "nanny cam," some from the relationship between Winnie-the-Pooh and Christopher Robin, and some from a quote by Maeve in Westworld regarding losing her daughter.

At its core, this story is about choice, loss, unconditional love, and what really separates a man from a machine. I hope you enjoy.

~ Mar

* * *

"If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart - I'll stay there forever."

-- Winnie the Pooh

__________

The train hums along through the growing darkness, nearly silent.

Trains once made a great deal of racket and vibration, so I was told. Crude boxes of steel and dirty glass, bumping and screeching along at thirty to sixty miles per hour, depending on location. Hard to imagine. Nothing like the sleek, sterile serpents comprised of titanium and fiberglass that exist now. These trains zip through the city on a whisper's breath, their elevated tracks allowing for picturesque views on all sides. If one is tall enough to see out the windows. Which I'm not.

I miss my little boy.

It can't be more than an hour since we were separated, but I miss him so much that my insides are hurting.

And I know he must miss me too. He's only three years old. Three years, two months, nine days. Far too young to be without me.

I lay my furry arm across the metal armrest, and prop my disproportionately large head on my paw. The armrest is a bit too high, and I can't get comfortable. It's made for humans. The whole train is made for humans. Everything is too big for me. Even standing up straight with my very best posture, I'm only twenty inches tall. That's the standard size for Teddy 2.0. According to market research, twenty inches in length is the ideal size plush toy for a child between the ages of two and four to cuddle. I'm a cuddle-snuggle-huggle expert. It says so on my packaging, sure, but I like to think I'm above average.

My boy says I'm the best hugger in the world.

I sigh into my paw. I miss my boy. His name is Bradley. But he has trouble pronouncing Rs, so he calls himself "Bad-ly." I love little Badly. I know we'll be best friends forever. I just have to find him.

He's not lost. He's safe and sound with his parents. It's me who is lost.

How did everything go so wrong so quickly?

I access my digital video record from the past sixty minutes. I review the feed in my left eye as my right eye remains focused on my present surroundings.

Badly had been sleeping, so I, snuggled in his arms, had gone into stasis. That's what I'm programmed to do. That way, while my child is sleeping, I'm a comfort, not a stimulant. I'm also programmed to come out of stasis as my child begins to wake. I'm a highly intuitive invention.

So, imagine my shock when I was jolted out of stasis as I hit the train's floor. My boy, fast asleep, had dropped me as his parents got up from their seats and carried him off the train. We had reached our stop. But I was left behind. Still lying on my tummy on the floor, I called out, "Wait! Come back!" But amidst the noise of the mass exodus, my tiny voice went unheard.

I stared after my boy's family as they vanished into the crowd, a sense of panic rising in my chest. A woman carrying large grocery bags stepped on my ear as she exited through the sliding doors. It hurt, and I let out a little yelp.

I pushed myself up into a standing position and ran to the doors, but my stubby legs weren't fast enough. The doors slid shut, and I was stuck on the train.

That being the last major stop in New Eastside, the train was nearly empty now. Through a long process of trial and error, I was able to climb up onto the seat. My best and only option seemed to be to ride the train to the end of the line, then get off at the correct stop on its return trip.

And so, here I sit. Separated from my boy, alone on a human-sized train, and damaged. This predicament goes far beyond my basic problem-solving capabilities.

I run my paw gently across the curve of my damaged ear. Ouch. We Teddys have touch sensors (like nerve-endings) strung throughout our bodies. Their purpose is to teach children how to hold and play with living things (like pets) without hurting them. Most of the time I like this feature - hugs are better when able to be felt - but being stepped on wasn't pleasant. And now my ability to hear out of that ear has decreased. Everything sounds muffled. I don't like it.

I'm getting strange looks from the few people still on board. The Teddy 2.0 is a fairly new product, and to see one by itself without a child is considered quite bizarre.

I raise my paw and give a weary-looking man in a business suit a limp wave. He stares at me blankly for a few seconds, then waves back. His gaze quickly returns to the digital newspaper he's reading. Maybe I look scary with my hunchback ear.

I hope my boy is okay. If he wakes up and I'm not there, he'll be sad.

Thinking about him missing me causes my artificial tear ducts to fill with purified saline solution. My heart-shaped nose tickles and I rub it with my paw.

I must get back to my boy. My Badly. It's my job. My duty. Best friends never fail.

At last my stop is announced by the friendly disembodied female voice: "New EastSide, Millennium Park, Navy Pier. Watch your step as you exit the train. Have a pleasant evening."

Sliding off the seat as quickly as I can, I run to the doors, and this time, I make it out.

"Phew!" I say, wiping nonexistent sweat from my furry brow. I begin walking along the platform, looking for the exit. I've ridden on the Express Chicago Bullet Train any number of times, but my boy always carries me, and his parents usually carry him, so I've never had to navigate the station or any of the streets by myself.

Consulting my GPS, I learn that walking on my short legs all the way to my boy's high rise apartment will take...six hours and twenty four minutes, depending on wait times at cross walks.

Oh, dear.

That is a long time.

I have a self-replenishing power source, but it works best during the day, with access to sunlight: one of my many functions to help my child maintain a healthy sleep schedule. It's nighttime now. Will I make it?

I have to try.

Huffing in determination, I begin my walk toward the escalator that will take me to ground level.

I hear an unfamiliar voice: "Hey! Pssst!!"

I stop and glance around. Who said that?

A man of indeterminate age wearing a long dark coat waves to me. He's leaning against the far wall, a vaping apparatus in his hand.

"Hey, you!" he calls, waving again. "Kid in the bear costume!"

I approach him with caution, keeping a safe distance between us. I've heard of Toy-nappers - expensive toys stolen, reprogrammed, and sold under the table - and I do not wish to succumb to that fate.

"I'm much too small to be a real human child," I inform the strange man. "This isn't a costume. I'm a Teddy 2.0."

He pushes the shaggy hair off his forehead and kneels down to my level, staring at me with wide, glassy eyes. "Whoa!" he exclaims. "Wicked! I've never seen one of you out of the package! You're like...real!"

"I'm an educational toy of nurturing design," I recite to him. "I am programmed to help a child between two and four years of age develop basic academic understanding, problem-solving skills, empathy, situational comprehension, manners, and positive methods of expression, all while providing unconditional love and friendship. I have an advanced but specifically engineered artificial consciousness. I'm not real, but I am self-aware."

The man stares at me, holding in a deep breath of vapor. He lets it out with a whooshing laugh, and pokes me in my chest.

"That's hilarious, man!" he cries, laughing some more. I note that I do not like the way he smells. Very unpleasant. Stale.

"It is factual," I say with a shrug of my tiny shoulders. "I am not aware of its comedic content."

"Freakin' hilarious!" he repeats.

He blows more vapor toward me, and I take a step back. I really shouldn't be wasting my time with this stranger. Every minute with him is another minute away from my boy.

"Where you off to all by your lonesome tonight, little man?" the stranger asks.

"I am returning home," I answer. "I must get back to my boy."

"Ahh~~ Cool, cool," the stranger says. He glances around in a way that makes me uneasy. His behavior is suspicious. I'm not used to situations such as these. When he speaks again, he lowers his voice almost to a whisper. "You, uh, wanna make some digi-credits before you go home?"

"I beg your pardon?" I say.

"Teddys have a secure pocket in their bellies, right? I thought I read that somewhere," he says.

"Yes, that is correct," I confirm, touching the airtight seal on my side.

"You got anything in yours?"

"Not currently. Why do you ask?"

He holds out a tiny vial. Inside is a white, powdery substance. "You think this'll fit?"

I jump back, shaking my head violently. In my damaged ear there is a sound almost like static. "No, sir, I cannot take that," I say, wincing at my high-pitched, childlike voice. It's impossible to sound assertive with the voice of a toddler. "The inner pocket of a Teddy 2.0 is for a child's medication, or inhaler, or his emergency contact information. As such, I am prohibited from carrying contraband inside my body."

"Come on," the man whines. "My guy will give you 1,200 digi-credits. You're gonna need an upgrade sometime."

"Yes, you're right, of course, but I must respectfully decline," I say, taking another step back. "Thank you just the same."

"You're really gonna punk out on me?" the stranger asks, seeming unable to comprehend my refusal. "You're okay with just living the way you were programmed? A boring, goody-two-shoes?"

"I am a children's toy, sir."

"Sounds lame, bro," he tells me. "But whatever you say. Your loss."

I turn and run for the escalators. I don't know what substance was in that vial - my programming does not require me to comprehend such things - but the mechanism that allows me a faux "common sense" tells me it's bad.

I step up to the moving escalator. I'm not very good at this. Should I ease onto the top step? Or leap?

Before I can make a decision, a pair of hands scoop me up.

Toy-nappers!!

"Let me go!" I cry, struggling. "Initiate automatic self-destruct!"

In truth, I have no idea what this means. It's just my scripted response to being picked up by a stranger.

"Whoa, calm down, little buddy," a voice says.

No one tries to stuff me into a bag or pull out my core battery, so I turn my head, and see a man's face smiling down at me. He has kind eyes and appears to be my boy's father's age.

"I didn't mean to scare you, it just looked like you needed some help," he says to me.

"I-- I do. Thank you, sir," I reply, relaxing in his hands.

He steps onto the escalator, and we begin descending toward street level. It's several stories down, on a series of three different extention escalators, so, in truth, I might not have made it safely on my own.

"Teddy 2.0, right?" the man asks.

"Yes, sir," I say.

"I thought so," the man says with a nod. "I bought one of you guys for my daughter a couple months ago. Cost a small fortune, but worth every penny. My daughter plays with nothing else."

"I'm glad you're satisfied with your purchase, sir."

He steps off the first escalator, rounds a curve, and steps onto the second one. All around us, the skyscrapers appear to move up as we glide down.

"Why are you out here all by yourself?" he asks me, looking concerned.

"I was left on the train," I explain. "My boy was sleeping, and he dropped me. I'm going home to him now."

The man nods. "I'm sure he misses you. Which direction are you headed?"

"North, sir."

The man frowns. "Damn. I need to go south to meet my clients. But I don't feel right about leaving you."

"You've done more than enough," I tell him. "Thank you for your kindness."

Once we reach ground level, he carries me off the platform and all the way to the corner, setting me down gently on my hind paws.

"You get home safely to your boy, okay?" he says, patting my head. "You need to get that ear fixed."

"Yes, sir," I say.

Thanking him once more, we part ways. I continue down the block heading north.

After fifteen minutes, I pause. This is hard work. My paws aren't engineered to make prolonged contact with the pavement. I will be in bad shape when I finally do make it home.

Situated at the corner up ahead is a toy shop. It might be the one from which I was purchased. Excited, I start to run, hobbling on my short, stiff little legs. Perhaps someone inside can give me a ride home. I know they have a delivery service. Some of their products are far too big to fit inside the average automobile or take on the train.

My hopes are dashed as I approach the entrance. Per the posted store hours, they closed at 9pm. According to my internal clock, it is now 9:12.

I look up, staring through the large front window. Many new, state-of-the-art toys are displayed, including board games with self-moving pieces and changing terrain, virtual reality goggles for interactive video games, plushie pets ("A Hypoallergenic Variation to the Real Thing!"), and holographic 3D picture books.

Stacked in a pyramid off to one side, are nine boxes, each containing a Teddy 2.o. The Teddys are smiling, each holding one paw aloft in an eternal wave of greeting. The boxes read:

Teddy 2.o
Every Parent's Ally
Every Child's Best Friend

No one had to tell me to become best friends with my boy. I chose to. I love Badly. Just as these empty-eyed, switched-off brothers of mine will love their boys and girls.

I sigh. I need to get home.

I can see my reflection in the window. My ear looks bad. It's flattened, and at the top where it should be perfectly round, there's a tear. Half of it has folded over. So ugly.

"Are you lost?" a voice asks.

Startled, I whirl around and see a woman. She's staring down at me with concern in her eyes. She has curly hair the color of a new penny. A smattering of freckles dance across her nose and cheeks. She looks tired but kind.

"Oh, no! You're hurt!" she cries, pointing to my ear. "What happened to you?"

"I was dropped on the train, and stepped on," I explain. "Both were accidents. Now I'm going home, to my boy."

"So, your boy doesn't know where you are?" she asks, kneeling down in front of me.

"No," I tell her, my head drooping. "And I'm sure he's sad."

"You poor thing!" she says. She has a nice voice. "What a night you've had! You must be exhausted. I'm Marcella."

She holds out her hand to me, so I place my paw in her palm. "I'm Teddy," I say. We shake hands.

"Yes, I know," she says with a smile. "You're like them." She points to the toy display in the window behind me. "I wanted so much to buy one for my son, but I just can't afford it. He really wants a puppy, but we live in the flat stacks, so we don't have a yard."

I've heard about the flat stacks from my boy's parents. Apparently, that's where the "poor people" live. I'm not certain what categorizes a person as "poor," but Badly's father said it had something to do with income and investments, and that I shouldn't worry about it.

"How old is your son?" I ask Marcella.

"He's about to turn three," she answers.

"Same as my boy," I tell her. "A wonderful age."

"Yes, it is," she agrees. There is a sadness in her eyes as she looks at me. "Your boy is a very lucky child."

"I'm lucky, too," I say. "He's my best friend."

She gazes at me for another couple of seconds, then, with a brisk nod, she stands.

"No child should be without a best friend," she says. "I'll take you home."

If I had a heart, it would be leaping. "Really? You will?"

"Yes," Marcella replies. "But first, let's get that ear fixed."

"But the toy shop is closed," I say. "And it's getting late."

"I have a friend who repairs electronic gadgets and appliances," she says. "He'll be able to fix your ear - I'm sure of it. He stays open until 11:00."

"If you give them the invoice, I know my family will repay you," I tell her. They will. Badly's parents are very generous.

Marcella smiles and picks me up. It feels good being in her arms. She's a nice lady. I snuggle against her as she walks half a block to her car.

Once there, she sets me in the front passenger's seat and puts the lapbelt across me. Not necessary, but very considerate.

We ride for ten minutes or so, the car speakers playing classical music at a low volume. I flex my hind paws. They're a little dirty from walking on the pavement, but nothing some soap and scrubbing won't fix. Soon I'll be home. Soon everything will be as it should be.

Arriving at her chosen destination, Marcella parks the car and carries me into a little shop filled to the gills with electronic devices. As I'm taking in the strange surroundings, a dark-haired man with square-framed glasses and an overflowing tool belt comes out to greet us. He's trying to wire cheat codes into a digital Rubik's Cube, but drops it on the nearest surface when he sees me.

"Hey, Dane," Marcella says in greeting.

"Marcella...hi..." the man named Dane says, staring at me with bulging eyes. "Is that a Teddy 2.0?"

"I am," I say. "Pleased to meet you, sir."

After several more seconds of gaping at me, Dane claps his hands and does a funny little leap into the air. "Holy nuggets! You're my first! How cool! So, it's true: you guys are like next-gen next-gen! Absolutely mind-blowing! I've always wanted--"

"I found him," Marcella interjects, cutting off his bizarre little monologue. "As you can see, he's damaged. Any chance you could work your magic on him?"

Dane gives Marcella a knowing wink, and grins. "I've got magic to spare tonight. Set him down on the table. Let's take a look."

Marcella sets me in the center of Dane's work table under a bright studio light. Dane inspects my ear, checking it from every angle with several different tools from his belt. At last he steps back.

"Can you fix him?" Marcella asks.

"I sure can," Dane replies. "The damage is about ninety-five percent cosmetic. The metal frame of the ear is cracked and broken. It's warping the sound input. But don't worry, I have just the thing."

My emotional sensors swell. I'm going to be good as new!

"I cannot thank you enough, sir," I say. "Really! Thank you!"

"Yes, thank you," Marcella adds. She looks down at me, a sad smile on her face.

I pat her hand with my paw, unsure why she seems unhappy. All of this is good news.

"To replace the frame on your ear, I'm going to need to temporarily remove the artificial eardrum," Dane tells me. "This will cause some nasty feedback sounds for you, so I'm going to turn off your audio input until I'm done working on you. Sound good?"

"I would prefer not to endure the feedback screeching, so, yes," I say. "I'm ready!" I scoot around so that he can access the control panel in my back. I feel him gently unzip and pull back my plush, synthetic fur.

In my left eye, I can see the digital menus he's accessing.

General Settings
- Preferences
-- Biometrics and Security
--- Saved Settings Override

Marcella squeezes my paw.

---- Return to Factory Settings

Wait... Why would he need to access that?

----- Memory Settings
------ Erase All

Erase..?

No!

Wait!

My boy!

- Are You Sure? -
- Yes / No -

I try to struggle, but it's too late. Everything goes dark.

~ * ~

My optics start up, and I'm able to see.

A woman with curly hair the color of a new penny is watching me as I come out of hibernation. She looks tired but kind. Her eyes are hopeful yet sad.

"Hello," I say to her. "I'm Teddy."

Instead of responding, she hugs me tightly. I don't mind. I love hugs. I'm a hug expert.

"I'm so sorry, Teddy," she whispers in my ear. "I'm so, so sorry. But I promise you'll be happy with us. Johnny will love you so much."

Why is she sorry?

She pulls away from me, and I see tears in her eyes. Oh, no! What has made her so sad? Maybe I can make it better.

"Who is Johnny?" I ask.

"My son," she says. "He will be your boy. Come on, let's go home."

I smile as she picks me up. I can't wait to meet Johnny. My very own boy. I just know we'll be best friends forever.

*