I Will Breathe (Forbidden Book 1) (8 page)

She lay back on the bed but couldn’t get to sleep, no matter how hard she tried.

A couple of hours later, Liberty sat up. She grinned as she bounced up from the bed and rubbed Boy’s head. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” She slipped her shoes on and ran all the way back to Patch’s workshop.

“Did you build all these robots?”

Of course Patch was surprised to see her back so soon, but he took the unexpected company in stride and invited her to join him in a meal of indeterminate ingredients. Whatever they were, they had been boiled into a lumpy, brown, greasy stew.

A look of pride crossed Patch’s face. “I did.”

Not wishing to insult his hospitality, Liberty somehow managed to swallow most of the food without throwing up. She set the nearly empty bowl down and told him, “I have a robot that was submerged in sea water. Mender tried to repair him. He even added a dehumidifier, hoping that would eventually dry him out, but even though I wind him every day, he hasn’t worked since.” She nodded toward Patch’s robots. “It occurred to me that since you build robots you might be able to fix Boy.”

“Boy?”

“That’s the name his father gave him.” Liberty slipped a hand behind her back and crossed her fingers. She was afraid to tell him how much she cared for Boy in case he thought her insane.

Patch spooned another mouthful of stew into his mouth and chewed. After swallowing, he dabbed at the corners of his mouth before saying, “I’ve never heard of anyone naming a robot, but then I’ve also never heard of the inventor of one calling himself Father. Highly unusual, if you ask me.”

“Really? Mender calls his robot Robbie. I just thought everyone named them.” She stepped closer and placed a hand on Patch’s arm. “Boy’s quite an unusual robot. His father downloaded thousands of images to him, to safeguard, ones of the world before the Great War . Not only does he mean a lot to me, but he’s now the Keeper of our past. I really need your help. I have food I can give you, not only to fix Boy of course but also for caring for Justice.”

Patch patted her hand but then moved off, chewing on his bottom lip as he wandered past his inventions. Liberty watched him study each one but she had a strange feeling he wasn’t really seeing them.

He finally stopped and turned to face her. “Of course. Let me gather a few tools together, and if Justice feels up to it, we’ll take him back with us.”

Chapter Fourteen

“For pity’s sake, don’t pace. You’re going to wear the planks to sawdust, and you’re giving me a damn headache.” Mender rubbed his forehead.

Robbie walked over and stared at Mender’s mouth.

Mender threw up his hands and grumbled, “Now see what you’ve done. My damn robot’s at it now.” He glared until Robbie backed up a couple of steps.

“It’s not my fault. You’re the one who’s taken up cussing. Maybe you should watch your language.” Liberty looked toward her cabin for the hundredth time since Patch had come that morning.

Mender snorted. “Me, watch
my
language? That’s great advice from a woman who curses every other word.”

Liberty rolled her eyes and shot him a skeptical look over her shoulder as she walked by – yet again. “That’s an over exaggeration. I’ll have you know I’ve been cutting back on my cursing. I’m trying to set a good example for my younger brother.”

This time the snort came from Justice.

Liberty only stopped long enough to point a finger at him. “And you should be in bed. Just a few hours ago you were unconscious, and you still look like death warmed over.” She stopped pacing long enough to push a long, red lock of hair back from his eyes. His face was covered in raw, open cuts. She was very much afraid that some of the gashes were going to leave lasting scars.

He pushed her hand away. “I’m fine. Mother always told me I had a hard head. It will take more than a few wooden crates falling on me to kill me.”

Liberty threw up her hands. It was useless arguing with any of them. And what was taking Patch so long? What if he couldn’t repair Boy? What if the technology Boy’s father used was too advanced or just too different from anything Patch had ever seen before? After all, she had never seen another robot that could use its eyes as lights, and certainly not store photos. What if Patch only made Boy’s condition worse and then no one would ever be able to repair him?

Damn. Damn. Damn. Liberty could stand it no longer and so headed over to her cabin and peeked in. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Boy was standing in front of Patch, mimicking his every movement. Patch raised a hand and wiggled his fingers, and so did Boy. Patch opened and closed his eyes, and Boy did the same.

Liberty rushed in and hugged Patch, then hugged Boy. “You fixed him! I can’t believe it,” she squealed and hugged Patch again. “I mean, I wanted to believe but was too afraid to.” She patted Boy’s head. “And he’s okay. He’s really okay.” She couldn’t stop smiling.

Patch remained stoned-faced, but then she didn’t really know him all that well. In fact, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him smile before, so maybe it didn’t mean anything. She looked at Boy again. “He really is okay isn’t he? I mean, he’s up and moving,” but Boy hadn’t spoken since she had entered the room, but then she hadn’t really given him much of a chance.

She turned back to Patch. “Is Boy okay?”

“He’s running, but only time will tell if his memory has been lost or not. I don’t know the effects of salt water on his type of technology.” He walked behind Boy and adjusted the intake valves on his dehumidifier. “I think it’s a good idea to leave this installed. Maybe it will help with his recovery.”

He stopped and looked Liberty in the eye. “The technology used by Boy’s creator surpasses my knowledge by eons. The man must have been a genius. I have no idea what most of the things in your robot are meant to do, so I’ve left them alone. I’m hoping, since I was able to get him up and running again, that these things will automatically reset themselves over time. It only makes sense that Boy’s creator wouldn’t have wanted such a finely crafted piece of engineering to be turned into scrap metal the first time it got wet.”

Patch shrugged. “Or it could be he just thought it never would. Who am I to say?”

“I don’t know how to thank you. I’ve gathered your supplies together and I’ve asked Mender to carry them to your place when you’re ready.” She hugged him again. “You’ve been nothing but kindness to us. I know you could have simply stayed in the shadows and watched Justice die, but you didn’t. You could also have refused to help with Boy, but again you didn’t. You’re a good man, Patch. If you ever need anything from me, I’ll do everything within my power to help.”

Patch snapped his heels together and bowed. For the first time since they’d met, he smiled. “It’s been my pleasure. I don’t get many chances to come to the rescue of a lovely lady, and I suspect I won’t get many more.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “The only favor I ask is that on your next visit you stop by and say ‘Hi’ to an old man.” He picked up his tool bag and added, “And if you have any spare apples, bring a few with you. I’ve never tasted anything so wonderful in my entire life.” He winked and then left.

Liberty watched him go before placing both hands on Boy’s shoulders. “So what do we do now, Boy?” He didn’t answer, but when she blinked, he did too. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

Chapter Fifteen

“It’s better if Justice comes with me.”

“But why?” Liberty’s heart was breaking. Everything was going back to the way it was before. Soon she would be all alone again. Boy hadn’t shown any signs of regaining his memory. Mender was heading to trade for more wheat and potatoes and he wanted to take Justice with him. What made it even harder to accept was that Justice wanted to go. Everyone was deserting her.

Mender crossed his arms. “Justice wants to see my territory. He knows he’ll see yours after we meet back up in a few months.” His expression softened. “It’s not going to be forever. Besides, I have my own motives for taking him with me.”

The wind whipped a strand of hair into her eyes, so she tucked it behind her ear. “What’s that?”

“Thrasher has a daughter about Justice’s age. There’s no one her age within miles of her parents’ farm. I think it’s time someone played matchmaker around here. The world’s getting smaller and smaller every day.” His cheeks were now a nice shade of pink.

“What if they like each other so much Justice decides to stay?” Her chest tightened at the thought.

Mender touched the sleeve of her blouse. “Then maybe you should be happy for him.”

“But I just found my brother.” A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. Mender wiped it away with a brief swipe of his fingertip.

“Justice isn’t like Boy. You can’t lock him in your cabin so you’ll have someone to talk to. He needs to have a future. Maybe Justice will choose to grow wheat instead of flying from place to place, trading produce. Let him decide. He can’t do that unless we give him some options.” Mender leaned an elbow on the ship’s rail. “Who knows? Maybe he’ll dislike Hope on sight.”

Liberty released a pent up sigh and leaned next to him, staring off into the clouds but seeing nothing. “What does this girl look like?”

“Hope? She’s a tiny little thing. Big blue eyes and blonde hair long enough to sit on.”

“Ugly, huh.” Of course Mender was right, he usually was. It would be selfish not to let Justice see as much of the world as possible.

Mender turned. “Justice is just a kid. He deserves to see what’s out there.”

Liberty faced him. “What about you? You’ve seen what’s out there. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

He touched her cheek and smiled. “I want to be like you, all tough and full of foul language.”

Liberty laughed in spite of the sadness pressing down on her heart. She kept her tone light. “I’m not full of foul language.”

“But you are tough, and you’ll survive a few months without us.” A stray lock of curly hair again blew out from behind her ear so he tucked it back for her. “I made you something.” He slipped a wooden comb out of his pocket.

“You made me a comb?” She took it, not able to believe anyone would do something so wonderful for her.

He touched her curls again. “Just don’t pull your hair out trying to get all those tangles out.”

Liberty couldn’t be angry, not after he had done something so sweet. “Thank you.” She took his hand before he could lower it. “Go on then. Waters and Patch are expecting more wheat and potatoes. I would hate for them to be disappointed.” She held on to his hand, as if needing to extend the physical contact.

Mender pulled her against his chest. “I’m going to miss you too. We need to talk, but let’s wait until we meet back up.”

She laughed. “We’re talking now.”

He kissed her fingers but then released her and stepped back. “How about next time we do less talking and more kissing?”

“But we haven’t done any kissing.”

Chapter Sixteen

Liberty sat at the helm, listening to the sounds of Boy exploring the deck.

“Damn.”

She looked up to see him backing away from the friction engine. “What happened?”

He clacked by, heading in the opposite direction, but didn’t make it five feet before running headfirst into the port railing. “Damn.”

It was too funny not to laugh. “Stop saying that.”

Boy backed up and headed starboard. Liberty wasn’t surprised when he ran face first into that rail too.

“Damn.”

She covered her mouth, hoping to suppress a giggle, but it slipped out anyway. “Where did you learn to talk like that?”

Boy backed up again but this time headed astern. Before he could run into that rail too, Liberty stood in his way. She half expected him to run into her, but by some miracle, he stopped just in time. “Why are you cursing?”

Boy blinked but said nothing.

She stood her ground, waiting to see what he’d do.

Finally, he said, “It makes me feel better.”

She nodded. “How’s that?”

He blinked again. “I imagine poison darts shooting out of my mouth and hitting what pisses me off, that’s how.”

Liberty couldn’t move. To hear her own words repeated back to her filled her with so much hope froze her to the spot.

Boy backed up, but before walking away, added, “Stop staring at my mouth. It’s not really poison darts you know, just pretend ones.”

Tears ran down Liberty’s face, but they were soon replaced by laughter. She ran after Boy and hugged him. “You’re remembering. That’s wonderful. Maybe by the time we meet up with Mender and Justice you’ll have remembered everything.”

When he didn’t say anything, she patted his head. “Carry on. I suspect you’ll have to run into a few more things before that happens.” She leaned down and whispered, “If you don’t tell Mender who taught them to you, I’ll teach you a few more curse words. You can’t just go around saying ‘Damn’ all the time. It’ll get boring.”

Epilogue

“I thought I would find you here.” Harmony stopped beside Boy and stood there for a moment before saying, “I miss her too.” She sighed before taking a step back. “We’re leaving soon, but not without you, so take your time.” Harmony patted Boy’s head before heading off to the airship.

Boy waited until Liberty’s granddaughter was on board Airus before sitting next to the tombstone. He never left on a trip without first talking to Liberty. The marker, a simple stone, sat at the head of her final resting place. Her grandson, Jonah, was handy with tools so he had carved the few words of its inscription.

Boy outlined Liberty’s name with a metal finger before gently tracing over the words ‘
I will breathe’.
How many years had it been since she’d made him that promise? Human lives were too fragile and their promises only lasted until their death, but it made him feel better to believe she was still somewhere out there, breathing for him.

“Harmony’s a lot like you. She’s stubborn, opinionated, and every other word out of her mouth is an expletive.” He glanced around the old homestead Mender and Liberty had built from the ground up. When Justice and Hope had been ready for a house too, they had built them one, and then with each child and grandchild the place had grown bigger. They had eventually even convinced Patch to leave his basement workshop and spend the last couple of years of his life with them on the homestead.