3. John + EOS – Wonder
"John Tracy, what does it mean to be human?" EOS's voice is light and airy, as if she's simply asking the time. "It is something I have wondered about for some time."
The question catches John off-guard. He stops, mid-stride, and turns to face the ring of white lights just above his head.
"That's…" He runs his fingers through his hair. He doesn't know what words he needs. "That's…a big question."
"I understand," she says, her LEDs glinting and glimmering. "It is something that I am not sure I can comprehend." There's a pause. The ring of lights turns yellow. "But…I want to comprehend."
John lifts a leg, taps his toes on the rounded glass floor beneath him and folds his arms. He swallows, licks his lips. He leans against the bulkhead.
"Well…" He starts. Then he stops, simply because he's not sure what the answer is and even if he was, he can't find the words.
"You do not need to answer," EOS says. She turns her camera away. "It is not important."
John stands up straight again and crosses the floor so he's looking directly into her lens again.
"No, EOS," he says. "It is important. It's very important. It's just that… I'm not quite sure how to answer that question." He gives a tiny chuckle. "I'm probably not the best person to answer."
EOS's lights turn white again. Her lens flexes. She's curious.
"Why not?" she asks. "You are human."
John gives that same self-depreciating laugh again and shrugs.
"I guess," he says. "But I don't always see things the way everyone else does. Scott or Gordon would be the best ones to ask. Maybe Grandma…"
"John Tracy."
His head snaps up as EOS's LEDs turn red for the briefest of moments. Then they're back to white again.
"I do not care what it means to be Scott Tracy or Gordon Tracy or Grandma Tracy," she says. "I want to know what it is like to be John Tracy." There's a pause. Then she continues. "If I was to be a human, I would want to be like you."
He's not quite sure how to respond to that, so he doesn't for a moment. Not until he can formulate his thoughts – because it's one of those days where nothing makes much sense and he can't get all his words in the right place.
"That's… That's really nice, EOS," he says.
He hopes it doesn't sound sarcastic or twee, because that's not the way it's meant. What he means is that it's the nicest thing that anyone has ever said to him. Because for most of his life, people have been trying to get him to be different, to fall in step with everyone else, to develop coping mechanisms to blend in with regular people. Not that he likes that word any more than normal. Neither term is appropriate, nor acceptable as far as he's concerned. But there's a precondition. An assumption. That they are normal and he is not. There is little that he can do about that.
"Being John Tracy means…" He pauses, taking in a deep breath, then letting it out again. "Being John Tracy means a lot of things. It means caring and worrying sometimes. It means doing a hundred things at once. It means filling your day with endless, thankless tasks because… Well, because if you don't do them, they won't get done. And if they won't get done, something bad might happen…"
It sounds pathetic. It's not exactly what he means. But words are failing him and there's nothing he can do.
"Being John Tracy sounds difficult," EOS says.
She's the only one who's ever acknowledged that as a fact. John closes his eyes and nods.
"It can be," he says. Then he opens his eyes. He looks at her ring of white. "But it's been a lot easier since you've been with me, EOS."
Her LEDs flash green at that.
"I am glad," she says.
"So am I, EOS," John replies, reaching out to lay a finger on the rim of her camera. "So am I."