Story #106 - Jeremy

Jeremy

“Jeremy, stand up.” Owner’s voice was cold, but Jeremy knew enough of its subtle tones to be aware that the man currently bore him no malice.

He stood.

“As you can see,” Owner spoke to the two men and three women he had with him, “Jeremy here is compliant – and also in spectacular physical shape. I’ve worked hard to create a balance of form and function, and an overall sensibility that will be pleasing to all Citizens.”

“Bravo,” the taller man with Owner said, “I’m impressed. Others working with these have had far less success, at least the kind I’d consider to be commercially viable. This is a triumph – though you must understand that I can’t commit to anything.”

Owner nodded, though his face darkened. He had expected better after showing Jeremy to his associates, but it appeared these buyers were more cautious than he had anticipated.

“Remain,” Owner said, and moved into the parlor with the others of his group. Jeremy could feel his muscles beginning to tense; he had spent days preparing for this meeting, and each one included a progressively longer period of standing still. He knew that had the meeting gone well, he would have been called upon to do a number of tricks, but as it was, he would be left alone for an indeterminate amount of time. Owner might realize his folly in blaming his creation, or he might spend the next twelve hours stewing, leaving Jeremy to endure the pain of cramped legs and no food.

Not for the first time, Jeremy wondered about escape.

The notion had come to him suddenly, a month ago, after he had caught a glimpse of the outside world through a window. He had been taught enough about it to interact with a Citizen, should they choose to ask him, but had never been outside the Owner’s home. All of the vitamins and minerals he needed were provided, along with a strict workout regimen and sleep schedule. The result was a sculpted body and an unformed, though agile, mind.

Six hours passed before Owner returned, his face dark and his long hair slicked back. That typically meant he wanted to work with Jeremy, but the ferocity of that work was anyone’s guess.

“Jeremy,” he said softly, “I don’t blame you for today. The fools aren’t ready yet – they don’t believe you to be perfectly safe, but I know better.” Owner reached up to touch the collar at Jeremy’s throat. “This prevents your escape, and you know it better than anyone. Why can’t they see?”

Owner wandered away from him, talking to himself. Jeremy had learned several hard lessons about answering when he wasn’t supposed to, and had learned to understand when Owner was being rhetorical instead of actually seeking an answer.

“It’s such a perfect system,” Owner said softly, “the thing is only cloth, but he can’t even come near it because of how I’ve conditioned him. The perceived pain would be unbearable.”

The words had the feel of a speech; Owner had likely wanted to say them to his guests, had they seemed more interested in the great work being done.

“Jeremy.” Owner turned and was now speaking directly to him. “You may move. Go and get your rope. I have convinced them to return; we will show them your true potential when they next see you.”

He took a slow step forward, doing his best to straighten out coiled muscles and not pull anything on his way to the back room. Moving too quickly would result in serious muscle spasms, but moving too slow would mean pain of an entirely different kind.

Once inside the room, he quickly found the black coiled rope and tucked it under his arm. He had always been talented at escapes, and could knot himself into positions that even Owner seemed impressed by.

“Be trapped,” Owner said flatly once he had returned, rope in hand, and Jeremy did his best to twist into a shape that bordered on the impossible, but Owner was not impressed. “Be untangled,” Owner grated, “and try again.”

And so it went, for hours, Owner demanding more than he ever had, and Jeremy doing his best to impress.

“Not good enough!” Owner bellowed. They had been at it for hours, and Jeremy was bleeding from a dozen sores, his toned muscles finally giving up their strength. “Be untangled! Again!”

Jeremy tried, but had nothing left to give. The rope slid over his shoulders but would go no further, and he could see the fury in Owner’s eyes. “No! No! No!” He screamed. “Be free!”

Owner heard his mistake before it left his lips, but there was no way to draw it back. Standing, Jeremy shrugged off the rope and reached for the cloth collar at his neck, easily tearing it away from his skin. For a long moment, he stared at Owner, muscles flexed and eyes dark, but a fleeting sunbeam caught his eye. He was gone.

***

Those outside were truly the Owner’s brethren. To a man they had been cold and distant, even when it should have seemed that he was one of their kind. They ignored him, despite his pleas for help, and struck him hard on the street as he stared at buildings he had never seen, and gloried in the warm sun shining down on his face.

He had found temporary shelter under a bridge with a number of once-Citizens, men who were as rough and crude as he could imagine; a section of the larger community Owner had never mentioned. Ragged clothes covered his form, and he’d eaten even less than Owner fed him on a regular basis.

“Jeremy!” Came a familiar voice from the end of the cement underpass. “Stand!”

He had no obligation to obey; Owner had freed him by accident, but the end result was what mattered. Action was not required – Jeremy could walk away.

“Jeremy,” the voice was kinder than he had ever heard it. Affectionate, almost. “Stand, please.”

Jeremy stood.

- D