The sound of David's voice brought the electronic super-toy's shining black eyes to focus. They were tiny, wet coals in a sea of auburn fur. It was cold. Wintery. It had been for some time. It had been years since anything had happened. The silvery, metallic strangers didn't visit as often anymore, and it was always quiet.
"Yes, David?" came the deep hollow of the bear's synthetic voice.
"Are we alone?"
"Yes, David."
"But we have each other," and he snatched Teddy up and lie in his egg-shaped bed, blue light cancelling every other colour.
The house was so empty. And without the usual chatter and commotion of Monica and Henry, and even Martin, it was so silent that David nearly felt the looming presence of the lack of noise.
At one point, he brought out pots and pans, and ladels and lids, and he and Teddy made enough noise for three neighbours down. The garden was always cold, and even the sun ceased warming it. There were no flowers. No memory left of Monica.
"I asked Mummy if she would die."
"What did she say?"
"She said... she wouldn't die for a long, long time." A blank expression occupied David's face, then, as he reminisced. "I thought long was as long as I lived."
"Maybe to her, long is 100 years," Teddy decided, remembering, too, that the life span of Orga was very minimal next to Mecha. When David thought about it, he accepted the fact he was Mecha, but was plastered to the Orga and his Mummy.
Sometimes he made coffee and placed it on the table, imagining Monica, beaming, complacent, sipping it, and thanking David, complimenting on his memory of the way she liked her coffee best. The coffee would get cold, the mug sitting for days, and it would begin growing mildew and fungus on the inside. At that point, David would throw the whole thing in the rubbish bin, cup and all, a little bit more of his Mummy going away with it.
But he would always remember his Mummy, in vivid retrospect. He simply regarded her less.
"Will we ever see anyone again?"
"I don't know, David."
"Can we look?"
"It would be dangerous."
"Maybe we could go to Rouge City."
"We don't know the way."
"We could ask Doctor Know!"
"Doctor Know is in Rouge City, David."
"I remember Joe."
David got out of the bed and stood, facing Teddy. He did a little jig, a childish imitation of Joe's jig, while saying 'Gigolo Joe, whaddya know?'. He stopped and looked to Teddy, who was serene and blue, watching David tentatively.
"Joe said to go towards the moon."
"It would be dangerous, David," the bear repeated in its constant nonchalant and hollow, sad voice.
"We got there once before."
"We had Joe that time."
Realising it would be nearly impossible, David's insides rendered disappointment, and he climbed into his eggbed and hugged Teddy closely. There he slept.
"Good-night, Teddy."
"Good-night, David."