A.I. GIRL

I drove into the town of Meridian with that same tight ache in my chest, the one that hadn’t let up since DeVoor let me go. The sun bounced off the windshield in accusatory brightness, catching every dusty speck on the dash like evidence of my unraveling. I should’ve been at work—should’ve been anywhere but drifting through town at nine on a Thursday morning—but the thought of going home and telling my wife Kenzie what had happened made my stomach clench. I rolled the window down for air. The smell of asphalt and sagebrush swept inside my car, and I let myself pretend I still had somewhere to be. 

Then I saw a young woman walking along the shoulder of the road, her pink hair lit up by the morning sun—and something in me paused, like I’d recognized the shape of her body before I recognized her face. No, it can’t be. Crystal? Crystal Henderson?

Crystal had been a temporary worker in the mailroom of DeVoor & Associates, the law firm where I worked, before they laid off half of the I.T. department go. They didn’t say why, but we all knew A.I. was handling most of the workload now. To my chagrin, I needed to work, but enjoyed this new freedom—the now open road of the highway heading into Meridian. I-70 was a quarter mile away, and as I pulled off the highway, I got a little closer to the young woman and noticed that, indeed, it was Crystal. She was hesitant to make eye contact, unsure of the strange guy slowing down, but she didn’t appear reluctant or scared, and eased over toward the passenger side to see what I wanted. I rolled down the window. 

“Crystal? It’s me, Attley. Attley Kellerman.”

“Attley Kellerman?” She squinted, biting at her lower lip. On the surface of her nose, a  small ring glimmered like a tiny diamond. 

“We worked together. DeVoor & Associates.”

“Yeah, okay. I remember you. How are you, Attley?”

“I’m all right. You going into town? You need a lift?”

“Sure, I can use a ride to the bus station. Thanks, man.”

The bus station connected routes to Colorado Springs and Denver.

I leaned in and opened the passenger door for Crystal. Her face was flushed in the morning sun, already eighty degrees. I noticed her tiny tattoo on her neck: a metallic dragon-like bird. Her sunglasses rested over her pink head. Before she got in my car, she rubbed her finger on the hood of my car. 

“Nice Lexus,” she said. “But damn, needs washed.”

It was the least of my worries. 

“You hitchhiking or something?” I asked. I noticed her gray duffel bag.

“No. A friend of the family, Larry, who drives semis out of Grand Junction, dropped me off at the truck stop at the I-70-exit. He needed to continue his route. He said it was about a mile into Meridian, and there, I can get a bus ticket to Denver.” 

Crystal bent forward, tying her boots. 

“These shitty shoelaces keep coming undone. Practically brand new. So, how’s DeVoor these days?”

“I’m not there anymore. They let me go last week. Most of the I.T. staff.”

“No shit? That sucks.”

“Yeah, I haven’t told my wife yet. What time does your bus leave? If you want to, I’ll treat us at Claire’s Diner. Get some pancakes and coffee. Bacon. Whatever you want.” 

“I can definitely get a bite to eat,” said Crystal. “I don’t know when the bus leaves. I still need to get a ticket. You’d better tell your wife about your job situation.” 

“I will, but I don’t want to deal with it right now. Money’s tight enough.”

“Just get another job. Or maybe you’ll win the lottery? I won five-hundred bucks last year on a scratch-off ticket.”

She turned up the radio. 

“I like this song. You’re cooler than I thought, Adam.”

“Attley.”

“Attley, I meant. Well, after I left Meridian a few years ago, I went back home in Grand Junction. I sold my Kia. Living with my father, which was a pain in the ass. I got in touch with a friend from high school, Brandi, who’s living in Denver. She told me to come out there. She has a unique job opportunity for me. Part-time, of course. The other part-time gig, working at a gentleman’s club and something about turning me into an A.I. character for an adult-only-site for men. These A.I. generated girls do all the work, but they are in my likeness. Brandi, shit, I shouldn’t have said her name, is making big bucks doing it, and I thought, why the hell not? Better than working at Walmart.”  

She pulled out a 6-inch Tac-Force blade. 

“Damn, where did you get that?” I asked.

“I’ve had it. It was my ex’s, and I think he got it at Cabela’s. Not that I have crazy knife skills, but all it takes is one stab. If someone gives me trouble.” 

At a red light, a few geese skimmed over a pond. John Lennon was playing on low volume. “Watching The Wheels Go Round and Round.” 

“My dad likes this music,” said Crystal. “Anything by The Beatles.”

“Who doesn’t like The Beatles? So, your dad kicked you out of the house?”

“He wanted me out and said I should give it a go in Denver. His girlfriend is moving in. I’m glad I’m out, honestly. I didn’t tell him what I would be doing in Denver. Being a dancer and an A.I. girl on a website.” 

“Double knot them,” I suggested while she was still messing with her shoelaces. “You girls, with your tattoos and piercings. Guess that it adds personality and definitely not boring.”

“Damn right. We’re ballin’ bitches. Attley, refresh my memory, you and your wife have children?”  

“No. Never happened. Not in life’s playing cards, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m forty-five, and Kenzie just turned forty. It’s fine. It’s good. If we want children, we can always adopt.”

“Forty isn’t that old. I’m twenty-four, but forty seems far off. My Mom was fifty-one when she passed.”

“I’m sorry, Crystal.”

“Been five years. She also had early onset of heart failure. She wasn’t obese. Just had an undiagnosed heart condition.”

We pulled into the parking lot of Claire’s Diner. I requested a table by the window. The server, Linda, walked us over. 

“I can give you a minute,” she said, “unless you know what you’re having.” 

Linda looked a few years older than Crystal, but not by much. I caught the smudgy glare of her eyeglasses. “I’ll have my usual skillet with home-fried potatoes,” I said. “No onions on it. Regular coffee, black. Thank you.”

“I’ll have the same,” said Crystal. “Hold the Bailey’s in the coffee. Ha!”

Crystal laughed. Linda smiled. 

“I’ve been leaving in the mornings, pretending to be going to the office. Instead, I go out for coffee and breakfast and work on my laptop. Technically, I guess it’s work, in a way, sending resumes and writing cover letters.”   

“You’re not getting paid, so it’s not work. You could start your own business?”

“Like what?”

“You can manage A.I. generated women? A.I. is where the money is now.”

I shook my head at that absurdity. Crystal leaned down and pulled out a vape and what resembled a business card. 

“Call this person. These people are making like fifty grand a month, Attley.”

“I’m not getting involved in A.I. data management.”

She shrugged her shoulders. 

“Larry,” she said, “the truck driver who dropped me off, told me he’s in a good stasis of his life. Never heard of that word before. In a good place. He quoted Psalms. Never thought that I’d ever hear a sixty-year-old truck driver engage with me like that.”

“At least he was a family friend and not a freak. So dangerous out there, Crystal. About a year ago, police found a dead girl off that exit ramp.”

“Larry ain’t no freak. He’s a Christian.”

“No, I wasn’t saying that he—”

“Forget I brought it up.”

Crystal’s stubbornness hiding behind those striking blue eyes of hers. Linda brought our food and coffee a few minutes later. That first sip of coffee made me focus on Crystal’s dragon tattoo. She was pretty, and she could probably be prettier if she let go of her stubbornness. 

“That’s why I have this knife,” she said. “I ain’t afraid to use it. Like I said, one stab. You’re probably thinking I’m a drug addict. Listen, I’m no druggie. I’ve had friends who’ve overdosed and it’s bad out there, but won’t lie, an occasional Oxy helps me through the day, eases the pain from a molar that needs a crown. Now and then an Adderall for my ADHD, but I don’t even drink booze or smoke weed. Hate how that shit makes you feel the next day, all groggy and your head clogged and can’t think straight. Well, you seem like a cool guy, Attley. I hope you and your wife iron out your differences and you get a new job.” 

I noticed that she was wearing a lightweight blue L.L. Bean jacket. The emblem shiny off the left side of her chest. For a second, I thought I saw Kenzie driving through the strip mall parking lot. She’d lose her mind if she saw me sitting with some strange young woman, having breakfast, talking it up. There was a calmness and energy about Crystal Henderson that oozed out and I felt that I could open up to her about anything. 

“We’ve been married for twenty-two years,” I said. “We’ve had our problems, like a lot of couples, but I think we’re fine. So, what happened with your ex-boyfriend? He nearby?”

“No, Shelby’s in Portland, Oregon, the last I knew. He enjoys posting photos on Instagram with his new girl. Their tongues hanging out, being goofy. Why do we feel like that we need to share our business all the time on social media, Attley? Are we that desperate for attention?”

“I don’t know, I’ve tuned out social media,” I said. “I’m still on it, Meta or whatever it is, but not Musk’s platform. I’m on TikTok, but never make video clips or anything. It’s just a dreadful distraction.”

“Like I said, A.I. is where the new jobs are. You have to know that. I mean, we may as well embrace it and work to make a living off it.”

Linda meandered around the table. 

“You guys good? Need anything else?”

Crystal and I shook our heads no at the same time. In moment of contemplation, being transparent, for an odd reason, I told Crystal about Kenzie’s genetic history. 

“Huntington’s disease,” I said. “Kenzie shows a sixty/forty chance that she could pass it down. Her grandmother had it. It’s a horrible disease, kind of like early dementia but worse. The mother passes it down, but it can skip a generation. Both of us felt it was too risky to have children. And there are other things, but no need to go there.”

She sniffled, poked her fork at her fried potatoes, slowly taking a bite. I snapped off a piece of bacon. 

“Damn, dude,” she said. “If it’s not a disease or genetic thing, it’s some asshole with a high-powered rifle that might end our lives. The wicked lives we live, the loudness that we embrace, only that we crave the solitude of quietness.” 

“I know. There was a shooting last summer in Colorado Springs, and Kenzie was there on business and was a block away when it happened. Three people were killed, including the gunman. I think it’s all of this instant news and crazy politics that have people in anxiety and deteriorating mental health. Everything is hurtling at us like an asteroid.” 

“You’re probably wondering about this?” said Crystal, pointing at her face. 

“No, what happened?” 

I looked a little closer and noticed a scar under her left eye.

“Horsing around with some friends at a park and tripped into a fence last summer. I misjudged a step and fell. The sharp edge pierced my eye. I wasn’t drunk. No, I don’t think. Maybe a little buzzed, but like I said, I don’t like booze. Still have partial vision, but pretty much blind in that eye now. The doctors did a good job. Luckily, my father’s insurance covered most of the medical costs.”

“That’s awful, Crystal.”

“Sometimes I wear a patch over my left eye. Looking like a pirate. Cool, I might add that to my A.I. character.”

“That would be an interesting visual.” 

Linda emerged from around the corner: “Honey,” she said, looking at Crystal, “you can vape outside.” 

“No worries,” said Crystal. She rolled her eyes at me.

“It’s always something with new laws around here,” I said. 

It would be fun to go back in time to be her age. Starting a new life in a city like Denver, having a nonplussed outlook, willing to ride the wave of youth before it simmers away. Life with Kenzie felt shaky, money woes—an impending disaster like Fukushima—tsunami waves crashing over us. I’d gotten a good severance package when I was terminated, almost six-thousand dollars. 

Crystal Henderson put away her vape, but the lines from her mouth expanded even more, and she began on a new story when she was fourteen, at a church outing: 

“It was crazy. I drove my mother crazy throughout my teenage years. I’d gotten nipped by a bat. It crawled up a stick that I had. I thought it was dead. Most bats scratch and not really bite, from what I’ve read, and it happens when they’re on the ground. Unless if you’re in a cave and they are flying around and one lands on you, bats will not attack. Anyway, it drew a little blood. It happened so fast. Painless, really. It was at our church. Mom hurried me to the hospital, yelling how careless and dumbshit that I was. Damn rabies! If you don’t get the shot in time, you can die. I took the shots like a champ.”

“Good lordy,” I said. “That had to be traumatizing.” 

I finished off my bacon strip.  

“It might be my imagination, but I have a heightened sense of smell and hearing. I’m a vampire, Attley. We’re all going to die. Sooner or never.”

“I like that. Sooner or never.”

A few minutes lingered, and I got up and went to the restroom. 

“Take one for the skipper,” said Crystal. “Not sure what that means, but Shelby used to say that. I think he meant taking a dump for the one who’s in charge. Ha!”

“I think your boyfriend made that one up,” I said. “I’ve never heard that expression.”

“Ex-boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Yes, sorry. Ex-boyfriend.”

It was odd, sitting with Crystal Henderson, the former temp worker at DeVoor & Associates. What if she ended up murdered and surveillance cameras pinged me as the last person to see her. What if Crystal Henderson ends up on a Missing Persons list? What if Crystal Henderson gets arrested for illegal drugs, or having illegal weapons? She uses her A.I. counterpart to commit crimes? I needed to calm down and let her go to the bus station and get home and tell Kenzie what happened at DeVoor. Face the proverbial music.   

When I returned from the restroom, I gave Linda my credit card to pay for breakfast. Crystal finished her food, glaring at her cell phone in her other hand. “Here,” I said, handing over five twenty dollar bills.

“What’s this for?”

“For your bus ride to Denver,” I said. “To help with whatever. A hundred dollars, obviously, won’t get you much these days.” 

“You don’t need to do that,” she said. “I have some money.”

She leaned in, briefly for a hug, just a few inches from my neck. The smell of coffee on her mouth.  

“You have nice neck veins,” she said. 

“Don’t get weird on me, Crystal.”

“I’m not. Thanks for breakfast.”

We walked to the parking lot and I noticed in the cobalt blue sky a hawk flying over; its wings expanded like a prehistoric creature.

“Damn, check that out,” said Crystal, looking up at the sky. “It’s circling for the dead.” She took out her vape and exhaled a purple puff of air from her mouth. “Hold on. I almost forgot. Let’s light a few firecrackers before we go.”

“What?” 

She grabbed her duffel bag out from my car and pulled out a pack of firecrackers.

“Come over here and light them with me, Attley.”

The moment felt calm, as if I’d been reeled in on a lure, that I had no restraint, just waiting to be thrown into a cold lake. 

“Fine.”

She unwrapped the package of firecrackers and placed one on top of a beer can. It blew off and dented the top a few feet away. 

“The high you get is when you throw them from your hand,” she said. “It can be risky if it has a short fuse.”

 I went ahead and grabbed one from the pack. It had been decades since the last time that I messed around with firecrackers. 

“Straighten the fuse,” she said.  “Give it a second and throw it up high.”

It was as if any frustrations or anxiety vanished. I lit another one and the relief made me feel even better. We continued this, in sync, throwing firecrackers from our hands into the air and I paused for a moment, thinking in two days, it would be the Fourth of July and I should do something fun with Kenzie. A weekend to Lake George? Green Mountain Falls?

“Do another!” Crystal yelled.

 I threw one over near the top of a small tree on the side of the parking lot of Claire’s and a split-second later, shards of burnt paper fell to the ground. In tandem, we finished off the pack of firecrackers. 

“I’d better get to my Greyhound,” she said. “Take this other pack with you, Attley. Go light them off with Kenzie. Again, thanks for the ride and breakfast. And for the hundred dollars.”

“You’re welcome. Hey?”

I gave her my cell number. “Can you text or call me when you get to Denver. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“Okay, Daddy-o.”

“No, not like that.”  

“Sure,” she said, and she typed my number into her cell phone. “Attley, Kenzie will understand about your job. Secrets and lies only cause more problems. Distrust is a hell within itself.” 

“You’re wise for your age. Take care in Denver, Crystal. Be careful with that A.I. stuff. We don’t know what direction that’s going and it could be a scam or lead to something illegal.”

“Well, you have fun here in Meridian. Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sarcastic.”

“It’s O.K.”

She leaned in and gave me a hug. In twenty years, she would be near my age, and I imagined that she’d found happiness with a partner with whom she could trust. I imagined her listening to The Beatles on her AirPods on the bus before zonking out.

I drove home and waited for Kenzie. Our little Yorkie Sammy stared at me by the backdoor in the kitchen. He wanted out, and I opened the door and watched him scuttle around a bush. I still had gray soot on my fingers from the firecrackers. Not long after, I heard Kenzie’s car pull in the driveway. She looked tired, slinking into the house—our eyes met at the same time as we both said hello, in tandem. Before I could tell her about DeVoor, she took a deep breath and said, “Hey, honey. I got some bad news. They let me go at work today. You know, I think it’s all this A.I. stuff that’s moving too damn fast.”

“Really?” I said. “A.I.?”

“Yes. How was your day? How was DeVoor?”

I glanced down at my fingers, the metallic dark soot of firecrackers seemed to brighten out of nowhere, and the first thing out of my mouth was: “It was an interesting day. It’s going to be all right. We’re going to be fine.”