The Automatons Part 5: Meatloaf as an Olive Branch

Author’s Note: This is the fifth and penultimate instalment of Trisha’s adventure with The Automatons. If you need to catch up here are Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, & Part 4. I hope you’ve enjoyed it up to this point and I look forward to sharing the final episode with you next week!

Trisha’s stomach twisted out of hunger as she kicked in a piece of Milton’s dresser drawer. It splintered with a crack, and she sorted it into a pile of wood that was about the same size. The boy’s room had become an organized pile of garbage. She had separated the old mattress into piles of foam, springs, and the fabric. In addition to the collection of mattress parts, there were three piles of wood sorted by size. She had spent the day breaking down the boy’s desk, and chair and the room was filled with wood scraps.

Trisha elected not to go to The Mill again, despite the fact that it meant another day of no rations. Since her stomach felt alright when she woke up, she decided to put in a day of work on her project instead of whatever pointless activity The Mill would assign her. Trisha snapped another board in half. As she put the results into their appropriate pile she wondered, Is there enough here? If not I could always tear up the couch. If she put the project off much longer, she knew she would run out of energy and maybe even time. The room was already filled with more supplies than she could take to The Automaton statue in the center of town.

Looking at the piles she wondered how she would get it all there. Trisha looked at what was left of the dresser. All the drawers were out and the only thing left was left was a small box with the front opened. She could probably fit everything she had to have into it. Then she thought, If I fashion some wheels on to it then I could carry even more.

With a new plan and more work to be done, she started breaking down the center beams of the dresser. She hoped to use them as axels on the cart. Trisha’s stomach grumbled loudly to notify her that it was a few minutes past dinner time. If she weren’t the only one in the room, she would have been embarrassed.

Attempting to ignoring her stomach, she tried to focus on her work. Her mind wandered while trying to design wheels for the makeshift cart. A firm knock at the door jarred her from her planning. Her palms immediately started to sweat. Have The Automatons figured out what I’m doing already? she wondered.

The knocker repeated themselves, and she walked towards the door to open it. If it was The Automatons, she knew they would inevitably let themselves in, and there would be nothing she could do about it.

When she opened the door she was surprised to find Lauren standing in front of her holding a plate of food. Trisha didn’t know what to say so Lauren start for her, “Sorry to bother you, I just haven’t seen you at The Mill, and I wanted to know if you were alright. May I come in?”

Trisha stepped aside to let her old friend inside. The woman was offering her a plate of food which meant she was skipping her rations for Trisha. The offer confused her because she thought Lauren blamed her for Will’s disappearance. Not to mention, Trisha assumed that Lauren was the one who reported her to the Automatons. Instead of being angry Lauren was offering a much-needed meal as a sort of olive branch.

As all these thoughts went through Trisha’s head, Lauren set the plate down at the table. “The house served us an extra plate,” she said innocently. “The meal made me think of Will. I’m sure there was just an issue, and the house forgot he had been edited. Anyway, Will made me think of you and I thought since you hadn’t been at The Mill for a few days you might be hungry. So, I brought this over to see how you were doing.”

“I’m fine,” Trisha lied eyeing the food thinking, The house never makes mistakes. Despite her house making plenty of mistakes lately.

“That’s for you,” Lauren said gesturing at the plate. “I don’t mind if you eat in front of me, I’m sure your famished.” She sat down at the table waiting for Trisha to join her. “I already ate with Robert.”

Trisha sat down and looked at the food. It was an adult’s ration of meatloaf with a side of mash potatoes and mixed vegetables. Trisha couldn’t resist its alluring smell. She hadn’t eaten for days, and the meal smelled terrific. She ate the meal slowly at first, so she didn’t look as ravenous as she felt.

Lauren looked around quietly waiting for Trisha to break the silence. When it didn’t happen, she got up and started walking around the room in boredom.

Trisha had finished half the meatloaf and was about to start on the sides when she heard Lauren call from the other room, “What’s going on in here Trisha?”

“Nothing,” She said with her mouth half full. She rushed across the house to Milton’s room and pulled the door shut before the woman could enter.

“You destroyed everything in there!” Lauren exclaimed.

“I broke down what The Automatons didn’t take when they raided it,” Trisha said irritated by the woman.

“Raided?” Lauren said acting confused. “They took Will’s things away too, but I wouldn’t call it a raid. I packed all his things up for them and put them in boxes. I even found some old things he had made for me and got to keep them.”

“They didn’t give me the time. The Automatons came in and took everything.”

“Well, it sounded like you were trying to communicate. At least that’s what I told them.” A smirk of contempt quickly appeared and disappeared on Lauren’s face as she said it.

“You told them?” Trisha exclaimed. Her assumptions had been right, but the admission of the guilt made the betrayal feel worse. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you were going crazy, and spouting off nonsense about people living after being editing. You said you had heard from Peter, and he’s been dead for almost ten years. It was crazy.” Lauren smiled a helpful smile and continued, “You had simply lost your mind in the grief of losing Milton. I figured if The Automatons came and cleared out his room it would help you forget about him and Peter.”

Trisha clenched her fists and fought the urge to throttle the woman. “What did you tell them?”

“Everything you told me,” Lauren shrugged as if the statement was nothing. The woman walked back to the table, looking around the house more. Trisha suspected she was searching for more gossip to share with The Automatons.

Without finding anything interesting, she seated herself at the table saying “Whatever you’re about to do, don’t.” The words came out as if it were the only logical course of action. “I can see it in your eyes, we’ve known each other for awhile. From the look of Milton’s room, it seems like you’re up to something. Don’t do it. Just come back to The Mill, and you will get more food like this.” She gestured at the half eaten plate of food across from her.

“Why would I go back to The Mill?” Trisha asked as she walked back to the table, “There’s nothing for me here in The Process. My husband and son are gone, I don’t have anything else.”

“Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean you need to be,” Lauren said in a reassuring tone.

“What does it matter? Why do you even care?” Trisha retorted standing behind the plate of food at the table.

“I care because you keep doing wild things. You are thinking crazy thoughts about people not dying when they are edited. And if start telling others, then more people will get edited. Just like my son Will.” Lauren explained slowly as her face filled with contempt.

“As far as I see it I’m responsible for reporting anything you do to The Automatons,” Lauren continued with a managerial tone. “That way they can help keep you under control. I skipped my rations so that I could see what you were planning. Because I knew you were planning something crazy, you’re nearly as bad as your husband. But you don’t have the guts actually to do anything about it like he did. Just give it up. Come back to The Mill. You’ll be happier there. Staying in this house all alone without your son and husband just seems so depressing.”

Trisha took the plate of food and flung it at her. The plate missed and shattered on the ground, but the mashed potatoes didn’t. They landed first, and when the vegetables hit the woman’s face, they stuck. The side dishes covered her face and dress, and she was steaming mad, but Trisha didn’t let her retort. “You’re a hag, Lauren!” Trisha screamed. “The only thing you ever had was Will, and he was too good for you. They took him away and now you’re stuck taking out your pain on me. Just because you’re trapped here in this hell doesn’t mean I have to be. I’m going to get edited one way or the other.”

Lauren wiped some of the mashed potatoes from her eyes and face and saw the half-eaten meatloaf on the floor. “Is this what I get for bringing you food and helping you out of your grief?” She stepped on the ground meat and squished it into the floor, “I hope you starve in here, I hope they don’t even let you back into The Mill when you inevitably give up this farce. And when you get edited, I hope it’s a slow and painful death, because you deserve it. You deserve it for leading our sons to that same end.”

Trisha saw tears coming out of the woman’s eyes. They navigated their way through the mash potato hills that covered her cheeks as Lauren turned away. She left the house and closed the door with a slam. Plate shards and food were everywhere in the kitchen, but Trisha didn’t have any time to clean it up. Lauren was going to report that she was up to something which meant Trisha didn’t have much time to get her supplied to the statue.

Photo Credit: Spero.Photography, Renate Dodell, stu_spivack, Ryan Hyde, trevormarron