She Wants a Real Man

By Krysta Tawlks

Today was my birthday, which meant waking up early to lock my windows and doors. I’d already powered down Ynette, and my cell-glasses rested on the charger. The lenses flashed red, green, then yellow—voice mails, text messages and vid chats.

Oh my. The birthday wishes were starting early.

To avoid carrier pigeons holding fortune cookies with birthday messages—a fad that gained popularity last summer—I had pried the mailbox off its stand with a crowbar. With everything digital now, mailboxes were one of those “relics of the past”—as were crowbars. Moments later, several mechanical birds scraped against my windowpane, casting cryptic shadows around my cramped apartment. Without a mailbox to leave their cookies, the birds puttered around for a bit, then flitted away.

I grabbed my dog-eared copy of Persuasion, found a half-eaten bag of donuts, and slipped back into my bedcovers. It was difficult ignoring the reminders—the pigeons, the messages, any other well-wishes—that I was a thirty-five-year-old, childless woman with no prospective husband. I wanted real babies. Not the ones you ordered online that came with an off switch.

Opening the yellowing pages of my book, I redirected my thoughts to Anne Elliot. While Anne was confessing to Frederick Wentworth her grave mistake in rejecting him, I was interrupted by metal twisting against metal. I groaned.

Candy, my best friend, walked inside with an armful of balloons and a small cake. At least she had cake.

“Happy birthday, Cherise!” Setting aside her gifts, she leapt onto my bed and squeezed me.

I hoped she didn’t notice my unbathed hair or, more importantly, my half-eaten bag of donuts.

“How’d you get a key?” I’d chosen the non-tech room for a reason. Code-protected rooms were vulnerable to hackers.

“Your mom gave me hers.”

Ah, the spare key.

Candy smirked. “Really? No warm greeting?” She bounced over to Ynette and flipped the on-switch. The large dome-shaped device glowed, neon lights blinking on the outside. Inside Ynette’s nook, my seascape screensaver appeared. Candy only made two guesses before cracking my password.

“No Ynette, please. I just want to read.”

“Wow, Cherise! Over a hundred messages. Mostly eCards.” She laughed as she ducked her head out of the dome, and then she frowned, probably criticizing the powdered sugar on my lips and the book splayed over my belly. “Persuasion again? As I expected. Are those the donuts from Tuesday?”

“There’s only one left,” I said, throwing it in my mouth.

Candy walked over and clasped my hand, gently lowering her energy. The gesture caught me off-guard, and I chuckled nervously.

“I know,” she sighed. “Unhappy birthday.”

“Unhappy birthday,” I agreed as an abrupt heaviness settled on my chest.

“Admit it, you’re wishing you had a real-life man,” she whispered.

I bit my lip and swallowed the lump—my donut—in my throat. “Everyone likes online relationships. But avatars don’t marry and make babies!”

Candy gave a sidelong glance. “Avatar relationships can do all the same—”

“I mean no one wants a tech-free life. Weddings are all live-streamed nowadays.”

“It’s cheaper.”

“Babies are lab-grown.”

“Helps us keep our figure. Less painful.”

“I haven’t seen my mom’s real face in ten years.” Mother, like many others, wore cell-glasses not just to make calls but also to project an avatar over her body in offline interactions. Hers was Lady Gaga from early 2000s.

A pigeon slammed against my window.

Candy ran over and examined the glass.

“Go ahead,” I sighed. The sender was probably Father wanting confirmation that the cookie was delivered.

She opened the window, stepping aside as the pigeon veered into the loft. Before she could stop them, several others appeared and slipped through. They now bobbed and cooed on my living room floor. One dropped a cookie at my feet and locked its black metal eyes onto my face.

“Oh, it’s recording?” I pushed my hair aside, wiped my mouth, and picked up the cookie. A recording of Dad’s voice projected from the staring pigeon’s beak. “Happy birthday, Cherry-pie! Mom and I love you. Hope you find something fun to do!”

I smiled for the camera. “Thanks for the cookie, Mom and Dad!”

The next two were from my siblings with happy-birthday-from-your-favorite-person-in-the-world type messages. The last one was unaddressed.

“Ooh,” Candy cooed. “Mysterious!”

I opened the message—the paper was larger than the others—and waited for the pigeon’s recording to play. Nothing happened.

“No recording for this one. You’ll have to read it out loud.” Candy stated the obvious.

Glancing at the words, I raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s a quote from Persuasion.”

“No! Not from me!”

Unconvinced, I read the note:

“My idea of good company is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation.”

Join me for dinner? -S.A.

“Clever.” Candy approved. “S.A.—Secret Admirer. Oh, look there.” She pointed to the address of my favorite restaurant, today’s date and a time: 5 p.m.

“Seems odd there’s a quote from my favorite book in here. Did you write this?” I waited for her to admit it. Instead, she held her breath. Was she making a joke? Disgusted, I threw the message aside.  “He’s probably not even real.”

“Okay, I helped him write the note, but he’s real! I promise!”

“I’m not going out with a stranger.”

“What if he’s someone you know?”

“Not interested. I don’t have a crush on anyone.”

“Listen!” She clasped the sides of my face.

Shocked by her forceful grip, I stopped protesting. “What?”

“When’s the last time you went on a date—a real date? You make fun of online relationships while you obsess over fictional ones. Admit it: you’re hiding from the world. Be Anne Elliot when she’s brave. Take a risk. Talk to him!”

Her words hit hard. Yes, I preferred my room and my books while everyone else preferred their Ynette nooks and avatar masks. But Anne waited a long time to be brave. I was done waiting.

I smiled. “Okay. What’s his name?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Krysta Tawlks has written various projects over the years, which include a fantasy trilogy called Drag’n Seek and the short story Diary of a Phoenix. Her current project is Bloom, a children’s picture book. She’s a professor at the local community college teaching English classes for English language learners. For writing inspiration, she enjoys watching documentaries about real world issues and hearing her students share about their native countries.

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