The Tinkerer’s Lunch

Click here to view the image that prompted this story.

I hesitated in front of the jet black door and stared at the hastily spray-painted red X across it. Taking a deep breath, I knocked three times and stepped back.

The machine-like screech from inside stopped. A voice oh so familiar to me yelled, “It’s open!”

I pushed gently at the door, which slid open, and squinted at the bright red laser that greeted me as soon as I stepped in. There was a beep, and I felt the whoosh of the door as it closed behind me.

“Hey Adee.” She took off her face shield and tossed it down to the floor. I watched as she smoothed down her blue-purple hair and leaned back on her old, battered up office chair. “Got my lunch?,” she asked, looking at me briefly before picking up her screwdriver and a metal part I couldn’t identify.

I nodded, and held up the plastic bag to her, while trying to find a way across the room. The floor was littered with wires, spare parts, and blueprints, a kind of barricade that kept her genius in and the rest of the world out.

Without looking up from her work, she waved her hand towards the right. “Leave it on the bed. I’ll get to it later.” I looked toward the only corner of the room not strewn with electric parts, only to see it full of clothes and books. I averted my eyes when I saw a few of her undergarments on display, and gently placed the delivery on top of a black t-shirt and faded jeans.

“Awesome. Now come here and let me show you what I’ve been working on.”

I carefully stepped over her various paraphernalia as I made my way towards her desk. She was currently working on the giant metal arm that sat atop the table, on which sat her laptop, her tools, and the coffee she probably made last night, if not yesterday morning. Her latest project reminded me of the contenders that fought in the underground robot duel rings in the metro.

“Yeah, this is from Makisig-88. Heavily damaged after that last fight with RoboPacMan. Berto said that this is the last piece that needs fixing. I’ll get it done by tonight.” She scowled while she screwed in another bolt to the piece she had in her hand. “Yes, I’ll get this done, for sure. But this isn’t what I wanted to show you.”

She got up from her chair and motioned me to sit. “I’ve been working on something for some time now, and I want you to hear it.”

After some difficulty, I finally got to her desk, almost toppling the pink guitar I saw her play during gigs. As she set her things down and removed her work gloves, I petted little Tigre, her tiger-striped cat. It mewed while it slept on the old amplifier.

After pressing a few keys on her laptop, she looked up at me and pat her chair once more. I sat down as requested.

“It’s a new mix. I still want to work on it, but I want you to give me feedback on it anyway. Hmm, I think I’ll grab a bite while you check it out.”

She slipped the headphones over my ears and pressed Play. I immediately heard the smooth tones of a lo-fi hiphop track.

As I immersed myself in the chill beats of the music, I watched as she stomped her way to her bed. She took out the box from the plastic bag, and smirked as she opened it. After taking a whiff, she sat down and started eating the food with her hands. “Your adobo is the best adobo, Adee,” she said, smiling at me. “Nothing beats it. And god, this kamatis.”

I grinned and watched her eat hungrily, wishing I could do more for the girl of my dreams than just listen to her music and slip extra tomatoes in her lunch. A breeze moved in through the window and I whispered to it my affections for her, despite knowing fully well that in her world of music, projects, and tinkering, she’d never have time for the person who delivered her lunch every day.

Sighing, I turned to look outside, where the old metropolis held the secrets of broken parts and hopeful hearts. I smiled sadly.


Art by EJ Dela Cruz.
Image source: artstation.com/artwork/DRR2o
First written February 4, 2018.
#125

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