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Christopher knew from almost the minute he woke up that something wasn’t quite right. First, his dad didn’t come to his bedroom to say good morning, and his dad always came to say good morning. Instead, Chris had to go find his dad in the kitchen, only to find that he had made toast on cereal day! It wasn’t a huge deal, Chris liked toast, but his dad never made mistakes like that.
Then, just as Chris was finishing his toast, his dad said the strangest thing.
“Are you ready Chris? I’ll drop you off on my way to work.”
It made no sense! Dad knew that Carla dropped him off every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and it was Monday.
“Uh, Dad Carla will be here any minute, right?”
Chris saw the surprise on his dad's face before they heard the front door open, and Carla calling, asking if Chris was ready. Getting to his feet, crutches ready, Chris hesitated before hugging his Dad good-bye. He decided he would ask Carla what was wrong with dad when they were alone.
It wasn’t just his dad; Chris realized on the drive to school that there was something wrong with Carla too. She was cheerful like always, smiling and filling the car with chatter, but she just waved him off when he asked about his dad. That wasn’t like Carla; she listened when he talked, never rushed him when it was hard to find the words, and most of all, she told him the truth.
“Your dad? He's fine Christopher. You don't need to worry about grown-up's stuff hon,” she told him, kindly, but stiffly.
“He didn't know you were taking me to school today,” Chris argued, turning in his seat to get a better look at his caregiver. “He should have. It's been Monday's, Wednesday's, and Friday's forever.”
Carla faltered, but recovered quickly. “People make mistakes. He's probably tired.”
Maybe Chris thought, but dad had gone to bed early last night while Buck stayed up with Chris to finish their movie. He should have gotten lots of sleep.
“Ok,” was all he said though, because they were pulling up to the school. The car stopped and Carla waited.
“Um…” Chris said, glancing out the window. “Aren’t you going to park and walk me to the gate?” Carla always parked and walked him to the gate.
“Oh, of course,” Carla giggled, unnaturally.
Chris was growing uneasy, and he kept more space than usual between Carla and himself on he short walk to his school. Whatever was going on, Carla wouldn’t be the one to help him figure it out.
He could tell his teacher! Christopher thought with relief on his way to class. Mrs. Hartman was a kind woman, understanding, and approachable; she was always encouraging her students to come to her if they were scared or in trouble. It was perfect! Chris would confide his suspicions, and Mrs. Hartman would know what to do.
It wasn’t going to be that simple though, and Christopher knew it as soon as he walked into the classroom. Mrs. Hartman, the real Mrs. Hartman would not be sitting at her desk, hands folded in front of her, staring toward the back of the room. The real Mrs. Hartman always stood at the door greeting each student by name, welcoming them in. Christopher froze in the doorway, bumped and jostled by his classmates, heart sinking.
Mrs. Hartman’s head turned to him after everyone else had taken their seats, face solemn, no hint of her usual inviting smile.
“Christopher Diaz, you need to take your seat with others. Quickly now,” she stood and clapped her hands when he didn’t move.
Fear growing, making his stomach twist, Christopher's next words were not a lie.
“Uh, no, sorry, I-I’m sick! I ha-hav-have to go!” He stammered, already turning to clatter out of the room, praying no one would follow him.
The gates to his school were closed and locked during school hours so Christopher was trapped. He didn’t know what to do next, who he could trust, or who would believe him when he revealed that all the adults were robots!
Another kid was the obvious answer. He considered his friend Freddy, or maybe Emma because she was very practical…but the problem was they were all in class. If he went back in the building he could be trapped, and he had no idea how far the robot invasion went, or what the robots wanted.
He needed to think, and think fast. His dad was his go to person, but he was already a robot, and Carla too! The police came to mind but they could be robots, and he might not be able to tell. He needed someone he was close to, someone who he could test to be sure they hadn’t been turned… Christopher was near panic when the answer hit him! Buck! If there was ever an adult, who wasn’t really an adult it was Buck. He would help, all Christopher had to do was use his ‘emergencies only' cell phone to call him.
Buck answered right away and Christopher nearly cried with relief. Buck immediately agreed to pick him up, calling the school to excuse him, and having the janitor open the big iron gate. Chris gave the janitor a wide berth, waiting for him to swing the gate wide, before racing as fast as he could to Buck's arms.
“You smell funny,” Chris said, face pressed into Buck's chest. Sure, there was the regular citrusy lemon-lime that Chris associated with his friend, but lurking beneath was the something else…it reminded him of motor oil.
“Uh, yeah I was working on the jeep,” Buck said, sounding just like the Buck Chris loved spending time with. “Suppose you tell me what’s got you so worked up?” Buck changed the subject, hoisting Chris into his arms, and then into the jeep's passenger seat.
Christopher watched Buck walk around the hood, worry gnawing at his belly again. Buck slid into the driver’s seat and Christopher bit down on his bottom lip, saying nothing.
“Are you tired because we stayed up late last night?” Buck asked, giving him a sideways grin. “Your dad is gonna kill me you know.”
Christopher almost squealed with relief! Buck remembered last night! He couldn’t be a robot!
“No, Buck, you're not gonna believe it but everyone is a robot! My dad, Carla, my teacher, they've all been replaced! I’m scared, Buck. Where is my real dad? And what do the robots want?”
Buck’s eyes widened, but he did a good job of steering despite the shock, Christopher thought. He could tell Buck was thinking hard about what he said, and Chris left him to it. Chris knew he could trust Buck to figure this out; if anyone could get his dad back and stop the robots it would be Buck.
Pulling into his regular spot at Christopher's apartment building, Buck turned to him and asked.
“How do you know they're robots?”
Chris sighed, fingering the zipper on his backpack. “I just know. They aren’t right Buck. Dad didn’t say good morning, Carla didn’t walk me to the gate, Mrs. Hartman wasn’t by the door and…” Christopher froze, the sound of rushing blood in his ears, “And you didn’t call me superman when you picked me up! You're one of them! You're a robot too!”
Christopher gasped, taking his eyes off Buck to see all the adults he knew…neighbors, teachers, Bobby, Athena, Hen and Chim, his dad and Carla…all of them, lined up, row after row, advancing in a slow, mechanical march, toward the jeep…
“No!” Chris howled, “No Buck! Don’t let the robots get me! No Buck! No! Not you too!”
Christopher jolted upright, breathing hard, heavy hands gripping his shoulders. He could feel sweat dripping from his brow, and hear the slight irritation in his father's voice.
“Chris, I got you,” Eddie said, giving him a gentle shake, “You're safe. You were having a nightmare.”
Chris peeled his eyes open, relieved to see his bedroom, his stuffed monkey, his normal dad, and normal Buck standing in the doorway.
“You were a robot,” he accused, raising a shaky hand to point at Buck, “so were you dad, but Buck was better at it! I didn’t know until it was too late!”
Eddie rolled his eyes, and Buck chuckled nervously, scrubbing at the back of his neck.
“Well, for the record I think your dad would make a great robot, Chris,” Buck joked, and Eddie gave him scathing look before focusing back on his son.
“I told you I, Robot was too scary right? You think maybe next time you’ll listen?”
Chris shrugged, hugging his monkey, even if he was too old for it. He was still scared, and his dad shouldn’t be saying ‘I told you so', even if he had told him so.
“Can you sit up with me for awhile, dad?” Chris asked softly, a little embarrassed.
Eddie’s face morphed into a grin. “Oh no, I’m going back to bed to get a least a couple hours sleep before work, but you!” Eddie pointed at Buck, getting to his feet at the same time, “You, will take your movie pal here out to the kitchen for some warm milk, then put him back to bed all by yourself, because I, Robot was your brilliant idea!”
Christopher brightened, holding out his arms to Buck, who would carry him for sure, even though Chris knew he was too big.
“So, I was a good at being a robot huh?” Buck asked, tossing Chris up over his shoulder, making him giggle.
“Yeah, you’re good at everything Buck,” Chris told him honestly, “and you were still nice. Even as a robot.”
“Aw, you’re a good kid, Christopher,” Buck said, and Chris giggled again as he was plopped into a chair at the kitchen table. Watching Buck head to the fridge, Chris thought of something.
“Hey, Buck how come you didn’t go home last night?” Chris asked, curious.
Buck paused, then took out the milk and went to get a mug.
“Do you sleep over now?” Chris pressed when Buck didn’t answer his first question.
Buck cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, I do. Sometimes.”
Chris was quiet, contemplating, until the microwave beeped.
“There's no blanket on the couch, do you sleep in bed with dad?”
Buck nearly dropped the mug he was pulling out of the microwave, and he was blushing like the lady cashier at the supermarket, the one who liked to flirt with his dad. Chris had learned about flirting from his friend Emma.
“Ha, um well, would it upset you if I was?” Buck asked, bringing the mug to the table, and catching Christopher’s eye.
“No, cause it means we can stay up late every night watching movies,” Chris said, smiling broadly at his best friend, “Dad doesn’t like to stay up late.”
Buck snorted, patting Chris' hand on table. “Sure, superman, just no more robots!”