A Drone Named Jeffrey
Chapter Twenty Six
Heaven
"Alright Furball." I pinched the thin rope between my fingers and held it in front of the cat's face. It stared at the rope with half-lidded eyes. "Here's the string. You see the string? Go get the string!"
Furball's head slowly turned to follow the rope across the garage. It yawned when it smacked against the floor, and I vented. "Furball, you've gotta work with me here. You're getting old, and if you don't stay active you'll frame will give out faster. Now go get the string."
The cat completely ignored me and curled up on the wad of towels it used when my hood was unavailable. I groaned and reached for the rope to entice it again. "Furball, I have a string—look at my wonderful string! You can't have it."
One eyelid lazily lifted when I whistled, and I waved the rope in front of Furball's nose. "You know you want it though. You always want things you can't have."
Furball glared at me before twisting around to face the wall. I dangled the rope right above its head, and it gave a low growl when the tip of the rope barely brushed against its fur. I finally threw the rope aside when it became apparent that Furball wasn't going to respond beyond that. "Fine, be that way. I don't even know why I'm helping. Riley says cats don't live long anyway, so you're gonna die long before I do. Go to kitty heaven, or wherever it was she said you'd go."
I carefully twisted around in my small garage and leaned against the wall next to Furball, staring at the empty that had once held various human tools. "None of you organics have long lifespans. Certainly not as long as a Cybertronians can be. There could be thousands of generations of one organic family unit, and that won't even add up to half of my lifespan. My lifespan now at least. Did I ever tell you about the average lifespan of a Vehicon?"
Furball peeked over the towel it had buried its head in to glare at me and purred when my finger came down to scratch its head. "Yeah, I guess I hadn't reached that point of self-exile to divulge my life story to a cat. I had Riley for that…sorta.
"I haven't told her even half the things I endured as a Vehicon though. Sure, I told her some things, like not being treated the best or how we never had close relationships like humans do. I've made it no secret that some of the things she going through now can't really compare to what I've gone through. But I've tried to keep the more gruesome details from her. I mean, how could I burst that innocent bubble she can still live in by telling her how many Autobots I've offlined. Or tell her just how cruel Decepticon life can be. She still looks at me funny after we encountered that other Vehicon, and I know that if she really knew the extent of what I did—what I could still do—she'd regret repairing me. I put her and her dad in danger just by being online."
I stopped scratching when I realized Furball had drifted to sleep and vented. "You're not a very good conversation companion. But at least your breathing doesn't sound as bad as it did the other night. Maybe you'll last long enough to move to the new place with us. I could always use a squirrel killer like you."
I gave Furball a final poke, barely disturbing it from its sleep, before I pulled up my To Do List on my HUD. There were only three days left until Riley's dad had planned on moving, and I had a few things that needed to be done before then.
Like plan the perfect revenge for Riley's car wash balloons.