by Carlos Hernandez

I did not want to move to Texas. So I told Ryuu “I am an old man! I cannot start a new life in a new country!” Which is a big lie. If he had lived in Denmark, I would have happily joined him. I have always loved Denmark. But that is how you know I am not old, because I will still lie like crazy to defend myself! But I look old, so I can use old man excuses when they suit me. And so here in Kyoto I stayed.

But Ryuu was still worried about me. He is a good son. He is a Vice President for Gusto Tequila. How funny! It is funny that a Japanese man works for an American company that produces a Mexican alcohol. The world is so entertaining. There is talk that he will be the next Chief Financial Officer. Everybody in the company loves him, because he is a math genius and tells the company how to make the most money, and he is always right, and has perfect manners. And he is tall, even for Americans, who are all basketball players. He is tall, so he looks down on people, but then he elevates them with his good manners, and they are grateful. If only they made tequila in Denmark.

Clarkes are made in England, did you know that? Not the shoe, the robot! Well, the shoe too. At first I did not want an English robot. I thought, “Japanese are the best at robot-making in the world, why would my son want to buy an English robot?” But my son, I told you, he is always right, and he was worried about me living alone, and so he found the best robot companion in the world. And Clarke is the very best robot. Japanese will be the best again in a few years, but right now it is Clarke.

It arrived one day in a wooden crate as tall as an American, and though I did not want it I remember thinking: “It would dishonor my son not to open it,” so I lay it flat and opened it with the claw of a hammer--many nails to remove, it took me forever. The moment I lifted the lid, that crazy thing sat up like a flag, and I screamed like a pig. And then in perfect Japanese it said to me: “Hello! Please name me! Then you can tell me what to do!” My son had given me the instructions, and I knew this is what it would ask me, but I had not expected so much energy, so much personality. And why was it already on? Had it been awake in that box all that time? How awful!

I had to think fast, since it was already asking me questions, and so I just said “Ryuu” and that became its name.

Well, I should also mention that it did not look like a robot, with knobs on its chest and lightbulb ears and a satellite dish on its head and a loudspeaker mouth and pinball-bumper eyes. It looked like Ryuu! I called it Ryuu because I had to name it quickly, but also because it looked exactly like him and no matter what I named it I would always be calling it Ryuu by accident.

That is why Clarkes are so famous and expensive. They can be made to look like anyone, even dead relatives. It is almost like resurrection.

5.

But Ryuu was not dead and the robot was stupid compared to my almost-CFO son, and so I thought I would not like it. In Japan, we can love things even if they are not human. In the West you only love humans or animals with round black eyes, but in Japan we can love anything that moves around or can speak or look at you. We like our robots to look like robots, because when they look like robots you learn not to expect too much from them and you love them for what they are and what they can do. But this robot was pretending to be my son! It was asking for comparison. And it was stupid, so stupid! Excuse me, I have to make sure my arm is writing this part down, it can be a little defensive when I call it stupid, but we must all realize our limitations if we are to be happy. [Here Mr. Oono picked up the notepad and examined what was written. Satisfied, he put the notepad down on the table again and positioned the arm over it.] It wrote every word. Good! Perhaps it has learned finally to accept its lot in life. Even human minds have trouble with that.

I already told you it was the best robot in the world, but right now all robots are bad. They are good at nothing. They are like pesky little brothers that get in the way and slow their big brothers down. They try to make robots that act like humans, but it never works. Humans are always looking around and taking in the world and whistling and falling in love and thinking “That smells good! I wonder what the Tanaka family is having for dinner.” They can handle a million things. If you were to challenge my arm to a game of chess, and all it had to do was play chess, it would beat you easily. But try to have a conversation with it--there is a funny word for talking during chess that my son taught me. Ryuu, do you know what it is? [Here the hand, on a separate line, wrote the word “kibitz.”] Ah yes! Thank you! It sounds like a mouthful of metal, that word! But as I was saying, if you try to kibitz with my arm while it is trying to think, suddenly it cannot tell the difference between the bishop and the pawn. Even a lizard is better at living in our world than robots.