Chapter 10
Boredom. That was what I felt the most in that place, at least for those first few days. But boredom was better than the alternatives. Anxiety. Lost time. I think it's all starting to get to him. He still never stops talking but right now he's foggier than he's ever been. This place is making him lose it.
Elliot laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind mostly blank. Mr. Robot laid on the floor, singing under his breath.
"Sixty-six bottles of beer on the wall, sixty-six bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around, sixty-five bottles of beer on the wall. I'm bored of this song, all right?" he snapped, like it was Elliot's fault. "Hey, it's fine. I've got a million of 'em." He sat up with a grunt, crossing his legs in front of him. "You remember that really old song? It was by, uhh, that, uhh—" He snapped his fingers a few times, trying to get the name to come to him—"Ahh, that's right!" He pointed to Elliot. "You remember her. Christine or Carly or Charlie or something with a 'C.' Anyway, it's Five and Dime. Remember? Why am I asking? I know you remember. Sing it with me."
Elliot shook his head.
Mr. Robot drummed on his knees and sang, this time much less quietly. "Take me down to the five and dime, it's five o' five so you know it's time! Hop in the Cadillac and off we go! You get some candy and I'll get pop! Fun at the five and dime, it just doesn't stop! Muh doggy's ears out the window go flop flop flop, while I'm sittin' in the back drinkin' pop pop pop! Next day comes and we'll go back again! Oh, five and dime, you're my very best friend!"
Elliot closed his eyes, exasperated.
Mr. Robot sighed happily. "Classic. I know, it's not the best. They tried to rhyme 'friend' with 'again.' Amateur hour. That thing used to drive you crazy, remember? Used to play on that one channel about a hundred times every summer."
Summer. Elliot's mind wandered when he heard that word. It meant mostly calm and careless and good times when he was young. Like that day he and Darlene and Angela played with that Frisbee—
"No!" Mr. Robot spat, breaking into his thoughts. "Quit it with the Frisbee memory! I'm sick to god-damn death of it!"
Elliot puffed out a sigh. There was one summer, he recalled, when he went on a camping trip. The time he spent with Angela on that trip was what he remembered most vividly. He felt warm all over just thinking about it.
Mr. Robot scoffed. "Stop. Stop. I don't wanna hear that. Cool off, Nora Roberts."
Elliot did his best to ignore him and his mind drifted back to that summer again. On the camping trip he'd learned he really liked alcohol. He'd drank four beers—or was it five? He didn't like the beer so much for its taste, but for what it did to him. For a while afterwards, he obsessed over when and how he'd be able to get more. That night, he'd felt more relaxed than he thought was possible. He didn't even feel squirmy or anxious when Angela touched him. In fact he liked it. Then she'd stopped, which had frustrated him greatly.
"I'm sorry," she'd said. "Am I making you nervous?"
He'd immediately told her she wasn't, and he'd held her hand. At that point in his life, Elliot had never felt such a rush as when she'd turned to him, her eyes staring into his and occasionally wandering to his mouth.
"Have you ever kissed anyone?" Angela had whispered, and Elliot could feel her warm breath on his face.
What the hell kind of question was that to ask him? She might as well have asked if he was actually a kangaroo disguised as a human being. What did she expect the answer to be? "No," he'd told her.
He remembered Angela smiling sweetly, her eyes glistening. She'd smelled like smoke and cheap beer. She'd leaned in just a little closer and—
Mr. Robot's face appeared in front of him, his eyes narrowed. He'd been flickering just a second ago, but now he seemed more solid. "What are you doing?" he demanded, shaking his head in disapproval. "Don't even think about rubbing one out! I am not going offline right now!"
Elliot hadn't been thinking of doing that. But now that he'd brought it up, it sounded like a good idea. He was bored and there was nothing better to do.
Mr. Robot grimaced and moved away from him. "What is with you? You need to focus, kiddo! Yeah, I know, stress and boredom and bull and shit but come on! I'll admit it, sometimes—sometimes—I also just wanna have sexy daydreams about our favorite blondie, but that's—" He sighed at Elliot's shocked expression. "Don't give me that look! How many times do I have to say it, huh? We're the same! Different but the same. Same brain same urges same dick same memories…same hair—sadly. Same same same. The reason your life is as terrible as it is? You won't accept that!" He paced back and forth, shaking his head. "Do you see where we are right now? Oh, that's right, you don't. You're off in fantasy land again. Well, vacation's over. Pack your shit because we gotta take a drive back to reality." He spread his arms wide and spun around, gesturing to the room. "Look around you! We've got whopping, meaty problems in here and on the outside! And it's about time we start thinking about what our next step is, right?" He nodded vigorously, trying to get a response out of Elliot. "Right?"
Elliot looked at him for a moment longer. Then he stared up at the ceiling again.
Mr. Robot groaned. "You know, sometimes I wish I could unplug from you."