The Love Machine
a short story by David Henson
Just in time for Valentine’s Day, we present: The Love Machine! What else can I say? We’re hopeless romantics here at Underside.
And welcome back David Henson, author of a previous Underside story, who returns after a brief hiatus.
The Love Machine
by David Henson
The woman sits at the bar. Country music throbs and twangs. People shuffle in and out. The bartender wipes spilled beer from the counter.
The woman’s lipstick is bright red, her mascara heavy. She crosses her legs then pulls her skirt down. Her glass of white wine is almost full. She starts to take a sip, but lowers the glass when she notices a guy running his eyes over her body. Her legs cross and uncross, hiking her skirt.
"Hey, Babe," the guy says, sliding onto the stool next to her. "I've seen you shutting guys down all night." He wears a gold necklace and pinky ring.
"Haven’t found the right one yet. I'm looking for a big jerk."
"Weird… but I like it.” The man grabs his crotch. "I promise I'm the biggest jerk you ever seen—if you get my drift."
The woman feels her cheeks flush. He’ll do, she tells herself. "Honey, you're just what I've been waiting for. Wanna date?"
"Working girl, huh? How much?"
The woman takes a deep breath and lowers her voice. "Hundred takes you all the way. We on?"
"On and on," the man says.
The woman stands. "I have… I got me… a place around the corner.”
#
The woman shoves open the door to the apartment.
“You should keep it locked,” the guy says. “There’s bad people around.”
She stares at him. He shouldn’t pose a problem for James. She makes a mental note to lock the door next time. For realism.
They step inside. The place is dimly lit and smells musty, a cramped living room containing a sofa with torn upholstery, a recliner, and a tv mounted on the wall. There’s a small kitchenette. The woman wishes they could afford something better, but reminds herself it’s only temporary. Less than temporary.
As soon as they settle up, the man begins groping her.
"Slow down, big fellow," the woman says. She pushes him onto a sofa, the springs squeaking under his weight.
"You like it rough, huh?" the man says and pulls her down beside him. As they kiss, she takes a syringe from between the cushions and jabs it into the man's neck. "What the…" he says, then slumps on the couch.
A tall, muscular man with thick black-rimmed glasses and wearing a white coat wheels a gurney in from the other room. "It took you a while to find this one, Jennifer. Everything go ok?”
"I just wanted someone who’ll make a good test, James," she says. The two lift the man onto the gurney and roll him into the other room. Jennifer flips a wall switch, and bright lights reveal a machine about the size of a microwave oven. Wires run from the machine to what looks suspiciously like an electric chair.
They sit the man in the chair. Jennifer lifts a metal cap attached to the machine by a cable and sets it on the head of the man in the chair. James snaps a wide metal band around the test subject’s chest. Jennifer taps a keypad on the machine, which begins to hum. James turns a dial, and the tone modulates.
Jennifer watches a screen. "Wave approaching sync with AltruForm target," she says. "Three, two, one, now."
James presses a button in the middle of the dial, locking in the tone. "Got it," he says.
Tiny lights on the machine, metal cap, and chest-band begin blinking in unison. The man in the chair remains slumped. Jennifer waits, then taps the keypad again, silencing the tone.
"Fifteen seconds? That was a big dose," James says.
"He needed it.”
The two remove the metal cap and chest-band from the man, put him on the gurney, and roll him back to the couch. "Show time," James says and leaves the room. Jennifer sits beside the man on the sofa.
The man's eyes begin to flicker, then open. "Wha' happened?" he says groggily.
"I think you had a little too much to drink," Jennifer says.
The man shakes his head and sits up straight. "Whew, I guess I did." He stares at the woman for a moment. "I never got your name. I'm Pete."
Jennifer hesitates. "Uh… Suzanne."
"I shouldn't be doing this," Pete says. "I'm married." Pete stares at Jennifer again. "You know," he says, "I have a business over in Springhope—if you're looking to change your life. We've got group insurance. I could help you find a place to stay, too. Something better than this dump."
"No thanks, but I appreciate the offer."
Pete stands to leave. "You can keep the money."
"I didn't do anything. Just watched you take a nap."
"No, no keep it. I took your time." Pete hands Jennifer his business card. "I'd love to you help out anyway I can. Or if any of your... uh… co-workers might have a need. Or clients even."
"I'll spread the word. You take this back, Pete. I insist." Jennifer puts the five twenties in his hand.
"It was nice meeting you," Pete says, casually crumpling and dropping the bills as he walks to the door.
As soon as Pete leaves, James comes back into the room.
"Another success, James," Jennifer says.
"I heard."
Jennifer picks up and smooths the bills. "More for petty cash, too. Let's call it a night."
"Fine by me," James says. "You going to check in?"
"Right now," Jennifer says, dialing a number. "Dorothy, it's me. Can I speak to Dr. Bonhomme?" She walks to the closet, takes out a brown coat, and slips it on over her costume. "He's always busy in the lab, isn’t he? Well, let him know we've completed a successful phase-two test this evening. Subject presented a moderate degree of difficulty. I'll upload a formal report tomorrow. I think we’re ready for a bigger challenge. Phase three—lawyers and politicians."
Meet the Author: David Henson and his wife have lived in Brussels and Hong Kong and now reside in Illinois. His work has been nominated for four Pushcart Prizes, Best of the Net and two Best Small Fictions and has appeared in various journals including Underside Stories, Literally Stories, Pithead Chapel, Gone Lawn and Moonpark Review. His website is http://writings217.wordpress.com
His Twitter is @annalou8
If you liked this tale, try these stories by David Henson and others:
