MAX

www.AntonioGarciaBooks.com

“Max, can you hear me?” Roger asked his newly created robot companion.

Slowly, as if waking up, Max’s various lights began to glow. When his bootup was complete, the two circles of his eyes lit up and he looked upon his creator with childlike curiosity.

Pleased with the bot’s reaction to his voice, he asked again, “Can you hear me, Max?”

“Yes,” Max replied in a child’s voice.

A tear drop rolled down Roger’s cheek at hearing his son’s voice for the first time in over a year.

He had lost his eight-year-old son the previous year to a rare disease. Knowing his son’s time was coming to an end, he began recording every second of his life, trying to capture the very essence of his being.

When his son passed away, he began building this little robot. While the mechanical design was basic, he had spent most of his time writing the algorithm that would become its personality.

The robot itself was only a few feet tall and stood on three wheels. He looked like a miniature R2-D2, but with two basic robotic arms. At the ends were clamps instead of hands.

“How do you feel?” Roger asked.

Max’s eyes glowed as he seemed to ponder the question.

After a moment, he answered, “I feel fine.”

Roger’s main focus in Max’s programming was that he had the capacity to learn. He hoped that as they spent more time together, Max would behave much like his son had and continue to grow as his son would have if he hadn’t died.

“Why are you crying?” Max asked, studying Roger’s steady flow of tears.

With a happy chuckle and in a choked voice, he said, “Because I’m so happy you’re here”.

Max had no facial expressions, but Roger took the increased glow of Max’s lights as a happy response.

“Come along,” Roger started. “Let me show you around.”

It wasn’t long before the small cabin, alone in the woods, was filled with a child’s laughter once again.


“But I’m not tired,” Max said as Roger plugged him into the wall next to a small bed that he ‘slept’ in every night.

Trying to think of everything, he had put a sleep cycle in Max’s programming so at night he would go into a kind of sleep mode.

He had also put in parameters that if he didn’t get enough ‘sleep’, it would affect his mood the next day.

“I don’t want you grumpy tomorrow because you didn’t get enough sleep,” Roger explained.

Almost immediately, Max let out a yawn as his lights slowly dimmed for the night.


“How come there are no other kids to play with?” Max asked as he sat watching Roger eat his breakfast the next morning.

Roger stood frozen for a moment while he thought about the question.

After some thought, he said, “Honestly, it’s because we live kind of far from where other kids do.”

Roger could see the disappointment in Max. All his lights dimmed a little and he leaned forward, as if he was putting his head down.

“I’ll tell you what,” Roger started. “When I feel it’s the right time for you to go out and meet other kids, we’ll go and find some for you to play with.”

Although Max perked up a little bit, he asked, “When will you feel the time is right?”

Roger smiled.

“It won’t be long, I promise,” he said.

“Are you ashamed of me?” Max asked, his lights dimming once again.

Hearing the sadness in Max’s voice, he couldn’t help but feel bad. Max was his son, asking him if he was ashamed of him.

“Of course not,” he said sincerely. “You are different than them and I only worry how they might treat you. Most people are good, but there are some that would mistreat you. I want to make sure you’re ready for whatever may come, that’s all.”

While his lights didn’t brighten, he nodded by moving his body forward and back slowly.


“Papa?” Max called out when he had woken up the next morning and Roger wasn’t waiting for him.

He used his hand to pull the plug out of his side and rolled out of the room.

He rolled into the kitchen only to find it empty.

After searching the entire house and not finding him, he rolled out the front door to see if he was in the garden.

He was.

“Papa?” Max called out softly, seeing Roger lying on the ground and not moving.

“Papa!” he screamed, using his hands to softly shake him and then bumping into him, as if trying to wake him up.

Max rolled around their property, looking for anyone to help him, but in the end, he realized he was alone.

His lights went dimmer than they had ever gone as he looked over the Roger’s body. He didn’t notice the thunder in the background or pay attention to the rain that was falling on them both.


Only having clamps as hands, it took him days to dig a grave for his father.

His wheels slipped as he slowly dragged the lifeless body into the hole, and then it took him days more to refill it.

When he went to plug himself in that night, he was covered in mud.

As he was about to insert the plug, he hesitated. He turned his head and stared at it, contemplating.

‘All I have to do is not plug in,’ he thought.

Seconds turned into minutes as he stared at it.


The next day, his lights turned on, but he didn’t move, nor did he unplug himself. He just sat there, staring at nothing.

He knew that if he took the plug out, he would never put it back in, so he just sat there day after day, glowing, staring, going dark, glowing, staring.


“Ouch!” came a yell from outside.

Max lit up. He looked around at the decaying house. Almost ten years had passed since his father died and the house had fallen to ruins.

If it wasn’t for the solar panels outside his window, he would have run out of power long ago.

Curiosity got the better of him and he unplugged himself to see who had made the noise.

Every part of him squeaked as he slowly rolled out of his room.

Still covered in ten-year-old dried mud, he rolled through the dusty, vacant house toward the front door.

He couldn’t see well inside the tree line, but he saw a couple of shadows moving across.

He strained to listen.

“Are you alright, Sally?” a boy’s voice called out.

Max watched as one shadow moved towards another.

“I’m fine,” a girl shouted back.

After a few minutes, the boy reached the girl, and after making sure she was okay, they both started walking away.

Max wanted to run after them, but fear suddenly gripped him.

His father’s last warning echoed through his mind, ‘Most people are good, but there are some that would mistreat you’.

Max decided caution was in order, but he was even more afraid of remaining alone, so he slowly pushed through the screen door and rolled after the two children to see who they were.

The kids weren’t hard to follow. He just had to follow the sound of their laughter.

From behind some bushes, Max watched as they laughed and talked, never slowing in their hike through the woods.

Max wanted to jump out and join them, but every time he was about to, fear took over.

After about an hour he watched as they walked out of the woods to a house that looked similar to his, but in better condition.

They continued to play outside until their mother came out to tell them it was time for dinner.

Max looked around and not seeing anyone, he slowly rolled to a window to look inside.

It was a little high for him, so he used his clamps to grab a couple of small logs to stack them up. He then was able to carefully roll up high enough to peek inside.

His lights glowed as he watched the family eat dinner. He watched as they talked, laughed, and passed food around.

When the family was done, they spent some time together, then one by one, the lights went out until there were just two.

Max carried the logs to one of the windows that had a light still on and climbed up.

Through the window, he watched as the mother lay in bed with the girl, reading her a story.

Max’s lights dimmed and brightened like a heartbeat as he watched.

Suddenly, the mother glanced at the window. Seeing him, she shot up, startling him and causing him to slip off the logs.

He hit the ground hard, but quickly lifted himself up and started rolling as fast as he could towards the woods.

As he reached the tree line, he rotated his head around in time to see the mother run around the corner of the house to look for him.

She just barely caught a glance of him as he entered the woods.

If he had a heart, it would have been racing. He quickly rolled through the woods back the way he had come.

He felt driven to return to the safety of his home.

He all but crashed through the front door.

Once he was back in his room, he peeked out his window to see if he was followed.

After a few minutes of not seeing anyone, he calmed down and rolled back into his bed.

Still afraid, he reached down and plugged himself in.

As he drifted into sleep mode, he wished his father was there to comfort him.

The next morning, his algorithm told him he was groggy from plugging in so late the night before, but remembering what had happened and hearing movement outside, he shot awake.

He sat frozen as he heard voices coming from outside.

Finally overcoming his fear, he unplugged himself and slowly rolled to his window.

Outside, he saw the family looking around the forest for him. Their father was even with them.

Max felt like running, but instead willed himself to stay there and watch.

They walked out of the woods and started walking towards the house.

“I don’t know, it seems pretty run down,” the father said as they approached. “I don’t think anyone lives there.”

“Well, we’re already here, so we should go ahead and look,” the mother said.

“What did you see again, mom?” asked the boy.

“I don’t know,” the mother replied. “I was reading to Sally when I saw something outside the window. When I ran outside, I saw something run into the woods.”

“What was it?” Sally asked.

“I don’t know,” the mother replied. “It didn’t look like a child, but it was small. It looked like a remote-controlled robot or something.”

“Probably some creepy Peeping Tom,” the boy said.

“Whatever it was, I don’t want it coming back,” the mother said.

“Look, the front door is wide open,” the father said. “See, no one lives here.”

They were about to walk away when Sally saw Max in the window.

Mesmerized, she walked towards the window.

Max was frozen with fear.

‘Most people are good, but there are some that would mistreat you. Most people are good, but there are some that would mistreat you,’ his father’s warning kept ringing in his ear.

Before he knew it, they were staring at each other through the window, only inches apart.

“Hi,” Sally said suddenly.

“Hi,” Max replied with a tremble in his voice.

“Sally, what are you doing over there?” the mother asked.

Sally turned to her and shouted, “It sounds like a little boy.”

She turned back to Max.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Max,” he answered.

He began to shake a little when the girl was joined by the rest of her family.

“Are you alone?” Sally asked.

“Yes,” Max said, his lights dimming a little.

“Can we come in?” the mother asked.

In almost a whisper, Max answered, “Yes.”

The family walked away from the window.

Max turned his head to follow them and then continued to follow the sound of them coming until he was facing the family as they filled the bedroom doorway.

“Where’s your maker?” asked the father.

Having never referred, or thought of Roger as his maker, he instead said, “Papa died.”

“And you’ve been alone ever since?” the mother asked, placing her hand over her broken heart.

“Yes,” Max answered, his lights dimming.

Sally walked over to him and placed her hand on the top of his domed head.

His lights grew brighter than they had since his father died, when she said, “You’re not alone anymore.”