NOTE: There will probably be grammar mistakes that I will fix later.
The next day, Marcy idly rolled her toy Beetle back and forth on the glossy teak top of the kitchen counter, still trying to figure out what happened last night. Did it really happen or was it all just her imagination?
She could hear her father repairing the fence outside. He still didn't believe her story and insisted that it was a result of her paranoia from watching that scary movie, and maybe he was right. Because she disobeyed him, she was banned from watching T.V for the rest of the weekend, which felt like an eternity for her.
Feeling thirsty all of a sudden, she hopped off the kitchen stool and went to the refrigerator. But the only drinks in there were four cans of Coca-Cola, which she didn't even like, and less than half a gallon of milk. She then checked in the garage for cans of Dr. Pepper, but there were none.
She ran outside to the front yard where Eric was working. "Hey, Dad? Can I have some money to buy more Dr. Pepper and milk?"
Eric stopped sawing the wood and wiped the sweat off his brow. "What, we're out already?" he asked.
"Uh-huh."
"Okay. Go in the drawer next to the bed and take $20 out. Use that to buy milk and soda."
Marcy nodded. "'Kay, Dad." She turned to leave when she heard her father call her name.
"Marcy. Wait." He gestured for her to come closer, which she did, and he tenderly rubbed her back. "Honey, about last night, when I said I didn't, you know, understand you, I'm really sorry. I was just tired from work and the shock of all it just...I don't know."
"It's okay, Dad," she said with a smile. "Really. I know I'm weird and it can be hard to under-"
"Whoa, whoa, stop right there," he said softly and yet sternly. "Look at me. You are not weird. Don't ever let anyone make you feel like that. You are you, and there's nothing wrong with who you are."
Marcy frowned and glanced down. "The kids at school don't think I'm normal."
"Well, what's 'normal', anyway?" Eric scoffed. "I'll bet most of them don't get good grades like you do."
She smiled a little. "No. A lot of them don't."
"And remember the science fair? You won second place for that chemical-powered car and even got free tickets to Fun-A-Rama Park."
The little redhead nodded.
"See? Being average isn't always a good thing." He playfully tapped her nose. "Okay?"
"Okay," she giggled, then she looked at him with hopeful eyes. "So does this mean I can watch T.V again?"
Eric chuckled and shook his head. "Nope."
The smile on her face instantly dropped. "Aww, man."
...
Later that day, Marcy walked out of the grocery store with a brown bag full of Dr. Pepper and milk and got on her bike. There were several cars in the parking lot, but one in particular caught her attention: a yellow Beetle car.
She froze when she spotted it, but she snapped out of it and reasoned to herself that it probably wasn't even the same car from last night, if it even existed at all and wasn't just a figment of her imagination. She rode past it and down the street, and for a minute, nothing followed her, much to her relief.
["Somebody's Watching Me" by Rockwell starts playing in the background]
Then she heard the faint sound of car behind her and glanced over her shoulder. The yellow Beetle was following her at a good distance.
Now officially in panic mode, Marcy made a sharp turn down a side road and hoped that the car or whatever it was wouldn't follow her.
Unfortunately, it did.
She made another turn and was now under a bridge. She could hear pop music playing somewhere but didn't pay much mind to it and instead focused on what was behind her.
And because she wasn't paying attention to what was in front of her, she never even saw the boombox that was lying on the street. The impact caused her to lose her grip on her bike and fall off as well as drop her bag.
[song immediately stops playing]
She painfully landed on her right side and all the milk spilled on the concrete. "Owwww..." she moaned as she held her stinging elbow.
"Hey, you little crap!"
She glanced up and saw the three punk girls from yesterday looking down at her.
"You'd better not have wrecked my jambox!" the blue mohawk girl growled as she ran to check on her portable stereo.
Marcy groaned as she sat up. "Sorry. Ow."
The blonde girl squatted down. "You ok?"
"I hurt my elbow." Marcy pulled her up sleeve and sure enough there was a nasty scrape.
"Ooh," the blonde girl winced. "Kid hurt herself."
"Who cares?" the mohawk girl snapped. "She scratched up my new stereo!"
At this the blonde girl glared at her friend. "Get a grip, Casey," she spat. "For real." She then reached into the pocket of her denim jacket and pulled out a Band-Aid, gently applying it over the little girl's injury. "There ya go."
Marcy was surprised by the punk girl's act of kindness considering she threatened her yesterday, but she was grateful nonetheless. "Thanks," she said as she stood back up. Then she noticed all the spilt milk. "Aw, man."
"Where are you off to in such a hurry, anyway?" the punk girl in the leather clothing ask as she smoked a cigarette.
"Well, I was trying to get away from the..." Marcy turned around but the Beetle was nowhere in sight. "...car."
"Wait, someone tried to kidnap you or something?" the blonde girl asked.
"I-I don't know actually. It just keeps following me."
"Creepos are always trying to nab kids," the leather girl grumbled, "especially little girls. But that's man's world for ya."
The mohawk girl nodded in agreement. "Got that right."
"Huh?" Marcy raised an confused eyebrow. "'Man's world'?"
"You're too young to get it," the blonde girl said as she gently slapped the redhead's back. "Anyway, you'd better head on home, kid. Streets aren't safe."
Marcy couldn't argue with that. "Yeah. Thanks again!" She quickly picked up her bag and empty milk jug and got back on her bike, pedaling away as fast as she could. On her way back to the house, she never encountered the car again.
...
She woke up in the middle of the night and could hear the crickets chirping loudly outside. Sighing softly, she stared up at her ceiling and tried to go back to sleep. Her favorite stuffed dog lay next to her, looking up with its large sleepy eyes.
After nearly fifteen minutes of staring, her eyelids finally started to get heavy and she closed her eyes as she drifted off to sleep...
...only to be awoken by the sound of the tin trashcan outside being knocked over. She figured it was probably those stupid raccoons and closed her eyes again. Then she heard the door of their storage barn creak open then slam shut.
"...It's only the wind," she muttered to herself as she pulled the covers over her head. "Only the wind. Nothing to worry about it."
Then her eyes popped open in realization. But wait, how could the wind open the door if her Dad locked it?
Tearing the covers off her, she jumped out of bed and sprinted into her father's bedroom. She crawled onto his bed and violently shook his shoulder. "Dad! Dad, wake up!"
Eric woke up and looked at his daughter with half-opened eyes. "Marcy, wha...what is it?" he asked groggily.
"I think there's something in the barn!" she said urgently.
He looked over at the clock on his nightstand. Two thirty-five a.m. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Marcy, it's too early for this."
"Dad, I'm telling you, something is-"
"Honey, you just heard a noise outside. All the doors are locked and I have my pistol under the mattress. Nothing's gonna come in, okay?"
"But-"
"Marcy. Go. To. Bed." Eric said sternly.
Huffing, Marcy climbed off the bed and walked out of the room. As soon as she was in the hall, she muttered, "Fine. I'll go check it out myself."
...
She quietly opened the door that led to their backyard and shined her flashlight on the barn. As she got closer, she noticed something shiny in the grass: the barn's lock. So she wasn't just hearing things like her father said.
Marcy gulped, and with a rapidly beating heart, she forced herself to approach the barn. She could hear faint rustling and clanking inside. Was it an intruder? An animal? A ghost? Or maybe it was the...thing that had been following her.
Her hand trembling as she reached for one of the doors and grabbed the handle. Very slowly she creaked it open and peeked inside.
Something was moving around in the darkness. Something big.
She shined her light on it, and immediately she let out a big gasp.
It was the transforming robot thing from last night.
It had its back to her and once it saw the light, it swiftly turned around and looked at her with its glowing blue eyes. Startled and afraid, it frantically crawled through all the lawn equipment and into a corner. The metal on its body rattled as it trembled with fear and covered its eyes.
Marcy was confused by the robot's behavior. It was four to five times her size and yet it was afraid of her? Or was it afraid of the flashlight? Curiously she turned it off and waited for the creature's reaction.
Very slowly, the robot lowered its hands from its face, its blue eyes glowing brightly in the dark. It didn't move or make a sound; it just stared at her silently.
She very slowly reached for the electrical switch to her right, and the robot jumped when the barn's lightbulb turned on.
Now that it was up close and in the light, she could see more of its features. Parts of its yellow armor was scratched up, one of the "wings" had a cracked window, and on its chest was red symbol that resembled a face. The robot's own face looked very human-like with a rectangular nose and even a mouth.
She blinked and took a couple of steps toward it, and she could sense that it meant her no harm. It seemed curious, in fact, and titled its head as it continued to stare at her. Feeling curious herself, she slowly reached out to touch it, and her fingertips gently pressed against its leg. She half expected it to coil away in fear, but it remained very still.
Unsure what to do next, Marcy gave it a small friendly grin. The robot studied her facial expression before it imitated her and lifted the corners of its mouth into a smile. This made her giggle in amazement.
"Hi," she said softly and did a little wave.
The robot lifted its hand and waved back.
...
She couldn't wait to meet with her new friend again the next morning, but she hid her excitement from her father. She initially thought about telling him, but she then remembered what she learned from E.T The Extra-Terrestrial: you can't trust adults with something like this because they tend to overact.
Thankfully her father had to go to the hardware store, which to a grown man like him was equivalent to Disneyland, so he would spend at least an hour there.
She gathered up a few things from her room and put in them in a cardboard box. At one point Eric walked into her room and caught her in the act. "You moving to the moon or something?" he asked her with a chuckle.
"Oh, I'm, uh...cleaning my room," she fibbed, hoping that he bought it.
He raised a skeptical eyebrow but then shrugged. "Okay, then. Well, I'm off to Baron's. You probably won't see me until the next century." He gave her forehead a peck and walked out of her room. "Behave yourself 'til I get back."
"Roger!" she said with a salute. When she heard him walk out the front door, she picked up her box and snuck out through the back door.
She walked to the barn and slowly opened the door. "Hey, you still in there?" she whispered.
A pair of glowing blue eyes opened in the darkness at the sound of her voice.
She smiled and turned the light on. "Morning. Did you sleep okay?"
The robot merely smiled and nodded.
"I think it's time we introduced ourselves," she said as she set the box down and approached her new friend. "My name is Marcy. What's yours?"
The smile on his face dropped and he shook his head with what seemed like a sad expression.
Marcy looked up at him confused. "You don't have a name? Huh. Well, where did you come from? Are you an alien from outer space or did someone on Earth make you?"
Again, the robot sadly shook his head.
"You mean...you don't remember? Well, what's the last thing you do remember?"
The robot rubbed his chin as he pondered this question, then he started to make gestures with his hands that Marcy couldn't quite understand. Why couldn't he just use words? Or could he even talk at all?
"Wait, wait," she stopped him. "I can't understand you. Can't you talk?" She gestured to her throat. "You know, use words?"
He paused before he opened his mouth and tried to make some sound, but nothing came out. He rubbed his throat as he shook his head.
"Hmmm," Marcy scratched her head. "So you can't talk, you don't know where you came from, and you can't even remember your own name. This might be a problem."
Her robot friend then noticed her box of stuff on the floor and stared at it curiously.
Marcy followed his gaze and grinned. "Oh, yeah, I've brought you some stuff." She picked up the box and set it down in front of the robot, kneeling down to go through the contents.
The first thing she brought out was her GoBot, which was still in its car form. "This is Bug Bite, a GoBot. He can transform just like you." She quickly morphed it into its robot form and held it up for the robot to see. "Neat, huh?"
Her fascinated friend carefully picked it up with his large fingers and studied it closely.
Next she got out some toy dinosaurs: a triceratops, an apatosaurus, a pterodactyl, and a t-rex. "These are dinosaurs. Not the real ones, of course. These are just toys. The real dinosaurs lived here millions of years ago and were ten times bigger than us, but they're all extinct now." She held up the t-rex. "The baddest dinosaur was the t-rex. Nothing ate a t-rex." She made the t-rex go "Rrraawww!" and shook it before she put it down.
She then pulled out a Time magazine with Ronald Reagan's picture on the cover. "This is President Ronald Reagan. He's the leader of our country. My Dad voted for him twice."
Next she got out some comics books. "These are comic books. They're stories with lots of cool pictures. Everybody loves them. This is G.I. Joe, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Star Trek, and Star Wars. You can buy them at the grocery store for just seventy-five cents." She opened up the G.I Joe comic and showed him the pictures inside. "That's cool, right?"
The last thing she got out was her stuffed dog. "And this is my best friend Bernie. I've had him since I was three. Wanna hold him?"
The robot took the stuffed toy and studied it, then with a smile on his face began pulling at one of the ears.
Marcy gasped when she heard a ripping sound. "HEY, STOP!" she screeched. "STOP!"
He immediately dropped the dog with a shocked expression.
She picked up Bernie and checked him over. Thankfully it was just a tiny tear, easy to fix. She then gave the robot a disapproving glare and pointed at him. "No! Bad! Never do that again! You don't pull on someone's ear like that. Got it?"
He nodded with a remorseful face.
"Good," she said more calmly and put Bernie back in the box. "You know, we need to come up with a new name for you since you can't remember your old one. And it's gotta be good, too." She started to pace back and forth as she pondered his new name. "Let's see...you transform into a yellow Beetle just like Bug Bite. So maybe...Beetle?" She looked up at him. "You like that?"
The robot thought about it for a second, then he shook his head.
"No? Okay, um...how about...Yellow Bug?"
Again, the robot disapproved.
"Yeah, me either. Hmmm...maybe...Buggy? Buzz? Gold Beetle? Gold Wing? Gold...Bug?"
The robot perked up at the last name.
Marcy noticed this reaction and repeated it. "Goldbug? You like that one?"
The corners of his mouth lifted into an approving smile and he nodded.
"Okay," she giggled. "Then 'Goldbug' it is." She held out her hand for him to shake. "Put 'er there, Goldbug!"
Goldbug seemed a little confused by this gesture, and before she could explain what it meant, he dropped her GoBot into her hand.
She blinked before she threw her head back and laughed. She felt that this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Transformers Trivia: "Goldbug" was the name of Bumblebee's second form in the G1 cartoon. So yeah, we're still dealing with Bumblebee here. He just has a different name for the time being.