The Human Element
by Larry Sells

      Lee and Joe Smith stood by the automatic teller, waiting for their chance to use the machine.  They were in no hurry for both were retired from their jobs.  They just stood there watching the people walking by them.

     The girls who used the machine waved "bye" to Joe and Lee, as the girls hooted and hollered down the mall.  Both Joe and Lee settled for fifty dollars.

     "Let's finish walking around the mall."

     "Okay, I think we should take it easy today.  My left leg is a little sore from bouncing Timmy," replied Lee.  "One of these days he is going to break your leg.  He's too big for you to be playing bronco with."

     "He's only two.  Remember it's my leg, not yours."

     "Thank, God!  For that!"

      After they walked around the mall for an hour, they went to the mall's bakery.   They each bought a cookie and a cup of coffee.  Lee liked to put cream and sugar in his coffee, while Joe liked his black.

     Lee liked things that take time to prepare.  Joe seemed to be always in a hurry going for quick things like fast foods, automatic tellers, express lanes in stores and anything instant.

     "Lee, you're there? Calling from Earth to Outer space."

     "Yeah, what can I do for you?"

     "You can listen to me while I talk to you.  You had a distant look on your face that told me that you haven't heard a word that I have said.  Are you working on a story or were you just daydreaming?"

     "Little of both.  But it's too soon to tell."

     "Well, what do you like to do for the day?" Joe asked.

     "We could go bowling and shopping.  I would like to buy a microwave."

     "Isn't that a little bit out of character for you?" Joe asked.

     "No, I thought that it would make my meals go a lot further."

     "You're right, it will.  And like always, you're trying to save the dollar."

     "Somebody ought to, you spend it like it's going out of style."

     "Then I won't tell you that Shopko is having a special on microwaves this week?"

     "They are?  How much?" Lee asked.

     "Eighty-nine dollars."

     "I thought you weren't going to tell me about it."

     "Oh, shut up and drink your coffee.  Before you end up wearing it home."  Joe smiled as he threatened Lee.

     Lee grabbed his nose and squeezed it shut.  Then said, "Stinker."

     "Right, man," Joe said as he started to laugh.

       Lee won three out of five games.  Since Lee won the series, he chose to eat at Country Kitchen, and Joe had to pay for the meal.

     They were taken to one of the window booths in the non-smoking section.  A few minutes later a waitress brought them each a cup of coffee and a small bowl of cream packets, then took their order.

     After the waitress left, Joe commented, "Look at those buns on her.  All of that swinging action found under that skirt.  I wonder if she screws for tips."

     "Probably not.  But I think that if she screwed you, that you would die of a heart attack."  He paused for a second, and then continued, "For I don't think that you could survive the excitement."

     "That's what you think," Joe replied as he tried to kick Lee's leg.

     Lee moved his leg so that Joe would kick the end of the booth.  The impact of Joe's foot made a loud thump, which caused a few customers to look at them.

     Lee smiled as Joe swore under his breath.

     "How's the coffee?" the waitress as she handled them their salad bar plates.

     "Fine," Lee replied.

     "Well, let's go for it," Joe said as he started to limp his way toward the salad bar.

     An hour later they wobbled out of Country Kitchen feeling stuffed. 

     When Joe arrived home he found his package setting next to his doorway.   

     "Finally!  My new writing computer has arrived." Joe replied as he carried it in his apartment.

     At nine o'clock Joe called Lee about a short story that he had just finished writing.   Lee told him to bring it with him tomorrow morning.

     After some hesitation Joe finally agreed.  Lee decided that he should go to bed early.

     The alarm clock went off at Lee's house at seven in the morning.  Lee shut the alarm off, knocking the clock off the stand, shattering the plastic cover.

     They met at the Corner Cafe.  They sat at the middle booth.  Joe carried a vanilla envelope and an air of excitement about him.  Joe and Lee sat in silence.  It was not a strained silence, but it was a silence of expectation.

     "Aren't you going to read it or at least look at it?" Joe commented.

     "I want to be able to read it with no distractions, and be able to give it my full attention," replied Lee.

     "No problem."  Joe wrapped his hands behind his head.

      "You'll find it the best work of my life."

     "How is that?"

     "I bought a computer that almost wrote the story for me.  It picked out the proper plot, sub-plots, and conflicts."

     "Just like you to try to write a story instantaneously.  I will read it and tell you if it worked or not.  But remember, a person just can't write a good story by hitting a few buttons."  He paused expecting to be interrupted at anytime.  "That is why it's so special to be a writer.  Remember how you write your articles?  A short story is the same way it takes time and a lot of research."      Joe listened and made no comment to Lee's lecture.   

      "When do you think that you can read the story?" asked Joe.

      "I'll have it read by noon.  I will cook us dinner if you like."

    "Who can turn down free food?  I know that I can't."

    Couple of hours later Lee finished reading Joe's story.  He found it boring and expressionless.  The characters lacked emotions.

     Joe arrived at noon sharp.  They ate at the table with Joe's story at the center of attention.

     "Well?

     "Well, what, Joe?"

     "How did you like it?"

     "I didn't.  It lacked the human elements, feelings, or emotions."

     Joe grabbed his story and stormed out.  He slammed the door as he left, then he drove out the drive leaving black marks on the pavement.

     Lee just sat there feeling numb, and then he felt sorry for Joe.  Maybe he should have lied to him, and then Joe would have sent it in to a magazine.  And he would have felt rejected and hurt then too.  In Lee's heart he knew that he did the right thing by Joe, he told him the truth.

     After a couple of beers, Joe realized that Lee was right.  The story didn't have any emotions in it.  Joe decided to go through the computer's directions to find out what he did wrong.  Right now he was happily looking down the bartender's blouse, when she bent over.

     When Joe got home, he was feeling light headed.  He went to the instructions and reread them.  When he reached the emotional part of a story, the directions told him that he needed to wear an interfacing helmet.

     Joe mumbled to himself and searched the box for the helmet.  He found it underneath all the papers and packaging material.

     According to the instructions, he is to plug it into the computer, put it on his head, and turn the switch on. When Joe did, he felt something penetrating his head.  He tried to take the helmet off, but he could not remove it. Then he felt a mild electric current going through his body.  His body convulsed for a few minutes, then he lost consciousness.

     The monitor read, "Interfacing complete."

     Lee walked in the mall, and hoped that Joe was okay?

It was not like Joe to miss an opportunity to scope out the ladies.  Maybe I better apologize to him, Lee thought to himself.

     Lee phoned Joe's house.  He let it ring seven times.

     On the seventh ring Joe answered, "Hello, may I be of an assistance to you?"

     At first Lee thought that it was answered by an answering machine, then he remembered that Joe doesn't own one.

     "Hello, may I be of an assistance to you?" came Joe's voice again.

     "Joe, this is Lee.  I need to see you."

     "I improved the story for you."

     "Fine, I will be right over, don't move."  Lee was worried.  That didn't sound like Joe; it sounded more like a machine.

     "Okay, I'll be waiting," Joe, replied.

     Within seconds Lee arrived at Joe's apartment building.  Lee's face turned pale, and he fainted, landing hard on his back.  

     "Lee, are you malfunctioning?  I will call for assistance."

     "Hello, this is 911 Assistance, may I help you?"

     "I have a malfunctioning unit over here."

     "A malfunctioning what?'

     "Unit.  It's my brother, named Lee.  He has malfunctioned."

     "Okay, I'll send a unit over right away.  What is the address there?"

     "The address is 1015 Beaver Street, Hooterville, IA, 50660."

    "Okay, I'll send somebody over there immediately."

    "No, problem for the unit named Lee is malfunctioning."

      Then there was silence over the phone line.

©2001 Larry Sells

Author Larry Sells now has an e-book novella available for sale. It can be found here: Booking Expresssive