Impossible Miracles

Chapter 5
The Happy Things and the Sad Things

She did not comprehend.

She knew she was one of the few conscious robots in the world.

She knew there was an "I."

This meant she knew she was intelligent. One of the best, made by one of the best.

Yes, she also knew about this boy, the only other "I" in this world.

She knew that she had been built in the image of his sister.

Her name was Rin. She liked ice cream, sunshine, singing, and yellow. She was energetic and liked to talk. She liked to "tease" this boy. Her brother.

This she all understood and knew.

But what he asked of her was beyond her capabilities. There was nothing in her program that handled this clause he was trying to input.

"You remember that time we went to the beach? You were laughing so happily when you chased me down the sands. Haha, and then I swear you'd shriek when the water hit your ankles. You jumped back so far I thought you were going to fall over, but you managed to catch yourself just in time. Sigh, that was one of the best times, although you'd never let me mention to others how your 'little brother' managed to outrun you."

"Oh, and that time we got a puppy. It was so furry and soft. Warm, too. It liked you better than me, though. It would always clamber over my feet and into your lap, and then it would go and lick your face all wet. You always laughed afterwards, but then you'd wipe your face in my shirt and get it all wet."

He always laughed. Mouth tilted up in a smile, eyes shining cheerfully.

"This? It's because I'm happy. The memories remind me of the happier times of life."

She did not understand why they made him happy. But happy was a good thing, so she had nodded and listened to more of what he had to say.

Smiling was a good thing – so she was told – but he never smiled any other time.

She wanted him to be happy, to smile more, and so she let him talk, and she remembered, recorded in her database everything he said.

These were what made him happy.

But if only letting him talk and listen was the key to happiness, then it was also the key to what he called "sadness." Sadness was wetness, hesitance, and just bad, and avoiding the bad was part of her programming. Sometimes sadness was a thinning of lips and tension.

But the boy kept talking. He talked through the flood and charged through the words that wouldn't form on his lips.

"I wasn't good with the night. Rin was always the one who brought light with her, and I was scared when she wasn't in the room with me when the lights were off. One time, she was out with her friends, and I remember that I had tried to stay at home, but there was thunder and lightning and rain, and it was night. The power went off, and I got scared, so I ran. I knew the direction, but I got lost along the way and slipped all the way down into the forest. She can always find me somehow though; I don't know how she does it. And she wouldn't let go of me. That's all I remember because I couldn't keep my eyes open, but I remember hearing her scream at me over and over again."

"Rin, she was never scared of anything. She always held my hand whenever I was the one afraid. The only time I've seen her cry freely was when our dog died. It was completely an accident, but her tears … it was like a dam had broken and she cried more than she had for our parents. Yes, she was very sad that day. She had gotten attached to the dog – I don't even remember his name now – and she wouldn't let go of its body even after the police had arrived. She was all red by the time we got home."

The liquid flowing from his eyes would eventually cause him to bury his head in his palms as he tried to wipe them away.

"Tears. I hate them. It's normal to cry when you're sad, though."

"You have to know the bad that comes with the good, Rin, and I will keep talking until you understand."

But she didn't think she ever would.

It was all so very hard when sometimes he would cry when he talked about the good too.