The Isolated Genius

More than 50 years later, 2065

A familiar voice came through the speaker next to Walter's desk in the Garage. "Mr. O'Brien…" the voice waited. It always waited. It always wanted him to answer. He never did. "Mr. O'Brien, it's Jack. I know you're still in there. I noticed you made a slight change to your regular order. I see that you switched from regular toothpaste to gel. I think you'll enjoy it. I really like a gel over a regular paste, something about that neon green color versus basic white really makes me feel like I'm getting fresher, cleaner teeth."

Why did every human want to engage in such banal small talk? Walter thought sourly as he continued to ignore his affable delivery man. And why did they so much want to draw him into it? Walter flexed his fingers, keeping them moving helped him ignore the arthritis that had set into the joints of the digits.

"Still nothing, Mr. O'Brien?" Jack waited a moment. Walter could see the young man on the surveillance camera he had placed to view anyone at his door. "Okay, you're a tough nut to crack. I'm leaving the box right here in its usual spot. I hope you have a great day and I'll be back next month. Looking forward to chatting with you then!" Jack chuckled as he placed the box of Walter's personal and cleaning supplies down next to the door and then waved as he went on his way.

Walter cursed himself for making even such a slight change to his regular order. He purposely lived his life in such a way as to draw as little attention to himself as possible, thus minimizing any accidental human interactions. He wouldn't slip up like that again anytime soon.

Walter listened to the stillness left behind after Jack departed. It was a heavy silence and Walter momentarily felt the weight of his long and lonesome existence. He could have chosen the anonymous order and delivery service by Amazon with its drones. Or used any number of apps that would have delivered via drone or computerized autonomous vehicle. But for a reason that he couldn't quite articulate, even in his own mind, Walter had chosen to set up a regular order and delivery schedule with a local small business many years ago. It was one of his few tenuous connections to the outside world and to humanity.

Shrugging off the interruption, Walter returned his attention to the computer screen in front of him. He squinted at the blurry lines of characters and his fatigued eyes forced him to put on his reading glasses if he was going to get any more work done this evening. The contents of the screen were clear and once again he was immersed in the lines of code. Walter was typing when his phone rang with a now all too familiar custom ringtone.

He slapped the decline button before returning to the screen in front of him. He was working on a new inventory monitoring system for a local party supply store. Walter didn't even care anymore that these kinds of jobs were the best his 197 IQ was hired to do. It was enough money to pay for food and updated equipment as needed. That was all he cared about these days.

Or it had been before these communication attempts began. Now his main concern was not connecting with the caller. He hadn't spoken to any humans in several months and saw no reason to break that streak now, even if it was someone to whom he was related. Calls had come from this number so often these past weeks that he had given the number its own ringtone, making it easier to ignore, while still giving his attention to possible job opportunities.

The caller was his cousin, Bridget, from Callan. Walter had been dodging communication attempts from her for weeks. She would call almost daily and leave a message on his voicemail, in addition, she had emailed him, texted him, and attempted to start a video chat on a number of occasions. She even sent a letter in the mail. And Walter was successfully ignoring all of her attempts at communication.

It wasn't that he disliked Bridget, in fact, she was the one of his relatives he disliked the least. As children together in Ireland she had never actively teased or bullied him, she just ignored him. And he ignored her. It had been the perfect relationship. But now she wanted to talk to him.

It seemed her granddaughter, Erin, was twenty-three years old and wanted to attend college in L.A. The horror! The only way her mother would allow such a thing was if Erin stayed with him, at least for a few months. Walter had had no desire to have a relationship with his Irish relatives when he lived in Ireland, let alone now decades later when he was half a world away.

For a couple of days, all the attempts at communication stopped. Walter sighed in relief, thinking that Bridget and her granddaughter had given up. Unfortunately for Walter, even someone with a 197 IQ can be wrong.

On a cloudy Wednesday evening, Erin Brennan knocked at Walter's door. He foolishly opened it and there she was, Cousin Erin, grinning at him like he would be happy to see her. He wasn't. Without even bothering to be invited in, Erin pushed past him easily, despite only being an inch or two over five feet tall, and dropped her luggage inside the Garage.

"Hello, Cousin Walter, I'm here now. I've luggage to put in my new room." Erin spoke with the lilting Irish accent of home.

Walter struggled to form a coherent thought, let alone speak to her. He saw the humor dance in her brown eyes at his discomfort. The child was laughing at him! Irritation was an emotion that Walter had been intimately acquainted with these past decades and helped him finally spit out a sentence. "So you think you can just show up at my door and live with me to attend a university in Los Angeles? Aren't you worried that I'll turn you away?"

Erin tucked a blonde curl behind her ear with a grin. She looked Walter up and down. "Sure I have no doubt that you'd love do nothing more than turn me away. But you won't. You're too class to turn your poor little cousin, just arrived from Callan, away."

Finding words was apparently no longer a problem for him, Walter spoke quickly, "You don't know that. You don't know a damn thing about me, about what I will or won't do."

"Here's the thing, Cousin Walter, that may be true. I don't know anything about you, save what my Granny, your cousin, has told me. And that information is practically from another century. She's so old!" She looked Walter up and down, her brown eyes taking in the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and shockingly thick white, curly hair. "And so are you!" Walter opened his mouth to interrupt her, but Erin just kept speaking, "So here's what I do know. I know people. Sure I know you would like to hide from everyone around you, including me. I'm here now so that's going to change." Erin's eyes searched the main floor of the garage, lighting on the stairs to the loft.

Walter could see he was beaten, at least for the moment. He would let her stay the night and figure out how to get rid of her in the morning. He waved vaguely in the direction of the old Airstream camper in the back of the Garage before she got any ridiculous ideas about staying upstairs. "The camper hasn't been used for quite a while, but I think you'll find it suitable for the night."

Erin caught Walter's unconscious emphasis. "Sure I'll be here a fair bit longer than that. But I'm no stranger to work, I can make the place my own in no time."

"No doubt you can," Walter muttered under his breath.

Ignoring his bad attitude, Erin waited expectantly for Walter to pick up her bags and carry them to the Airstream despite his advanced age. With a sigh, he grabbed a small suitcase in each hand and gestured for Erin to carry her backpack. She picked it up and followed him as he moved slowly toward her new room. "So, Cousin Walter, what's for dinner?"

Erin's bags deposited in the camper, Walter went into the kitchen to find something to feed her.

Erin, as it turned out, had no desire to attend college. She merely wanted to live in L.A. and staying with Walter was her ticket to a life in California. The glitz, the glamour, the shopping, the Hollywood stars, and the fabulously wealthy. Erin wasn't sure if she wanted all that, but she did know she wanted to live near it, and experience it. Erin's eyes lit up as she spoke. Walter felt a strange twisting sensation in his chest. Her excitement, her zest for life and the possibilities it held, almost made him wish he could feel it too. He had felt that way once upon a time, hadn't he?

Erin's voice pulled him out of his reverie as she continued speaking. It was almost as if she never stopped. "Cousin Walter you are my hero, not only are you my only relative ever get out of Callan, but you left Ireland entirely and are living here in L.A. where the sun is splitting the stones almost every day. Beaches to lay out on, an ocean to swim in, and gorgeous weather all year round, and you looking like that! You are so pale! Don't you ever go outside?"

Numbly Walter shook his head and took a spoonful of rapidly cooling canned soup. It was the only thing he had in the Garage to feed her for dinner, along with some stale crackers. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Walter couldn't decide which, Erin was not a picky eater and treated his meager meal offerings as if it were a feast.

In a rare moment of silence, Erin looked across the table at Walter with a frown of concern on her face. "You won't tell my Granny that I'm not going to school in L.A. will you now?"

"I think you are getting ahead of yourself, I still haven't decided to let you stay. But-" Erin practically glowed at the word, "But, if I do agree, I won't lie for you. If I speak to Bridget or your parents and one of them asks, I will tell them that you came here under false pretenses with no desire for further education."

He could see the wheels turning in Erin's mind. Against his will, he seemed to like her the more time he spent with her. "How do you feel if you don't need speak to my family?" Erin asked.

This was not a question he had expected. "Then I have no problem not telling them what you are doing. You are an adult and should make your own choice." Walter finally asked Erin the question that had been lurking in the back of his mind ever since she had shown up at his door. "How did you get your mother to allow you to come? I never spoke to anyone."

Erin laughed. "Sure that was the easy part. I realized that you would continue avoiding Granny forever, so I decided take matters into my own hands. I got a friend to help me spoof your number, and texted her back as you, inviting me stay with you now."

Walter couldn't help himself, he smiled at her ingenuity and determination. Against his better judgment, he made a decision. "You can stay…" Erin squealed with joy, "Provisionally, you can stay provisionally, just don't bother me when I work, which is most of the time."

"Of course, Cousin Walter, you won't even know I'm here."

Walter doubted that very much. "And one more thing, get rid of that accent as quickly as you can if you ever hope to be taken seriously here."

Erin nodded her head. "I've already been practicing," Erin spoke in one of the worst American accents he had ever heard.

Walter didn't react to her butchering of four short words, instead he just picked up their bowls and placed them in the sink. He felt the throbbing of a growing headache behind his eyes caused by the unexpected arrival of his cousin Erin. Thankfully, it was almost time for bed. Almost time to see her, the moment of his day that he loved and loathed in equal measure.

Author's Note:

Devices/tech in the future: I am not writing hard sci-fi. This is a story about people and relationships first and foremost. The tech of the future will change into something I can't dream of now. Implants, robots, etc, but it's still going to be audio, and visual, which likely means video, written/typed, and phone calls, so I am using devices that you and I would recognize knowing that's likely anachronistic but I don't want to pull you out of the story to explain some weird future tech I've dreamed up.