Home Sweet Home

I picked up the idea for this story from all the writer's workshop. There were several different versions of this story but this is mine.

Home sweet home

by

Gary D. Logan

 

                Milton sat silently in his car and stared at the small black and gold key in his hand. There wasn’t much to it, not really. It was only about 3 inches long, half of it encased in hard black plastic, the other half golden metal with the telltale grooves of a key cut into it. There was probably a microchip in it somewhere as well everything seemed to have a microchip in it nowadays, but for all Milton knew the thing could have been worked by magic.

                Milton had grown up in the age of technology. He had grown up in an age of cell phones, Facebook, and hotspots that crisscrossed throughout the world leaving Milton in touch with everything around him. Even as a child he had been fully connected to the world or at least that part of the world that could be accessed from a computer or a phone. Milton had always been able to at the touch of a button know what his friends were doing, and how they were feeling. With a simple click of a mouse he could find out if little Sally had taken her first step, what Amber was having for dinner, and if Bill and Mary were still fighting. All of this information was at the tips of his fingers able to be pursued at his convenience and from the comfort of his own home.

                But it wasn’t his home, was it. Not really. It was merely a copy. A very well made facsimile of the place he had known when he was young. None of it was real though, that the pictures on the wall not even the views from the window. Everything about the house was fake everything about it was a lie.     After the great housing market crash of 2008 a few of the world’s leading scientists got together in the hopes of something better, something that would prevent such a thing from ever happening again, and a way of making lots of money very fast. And so after years of development the smart key was created.

                Things didn’t change overnight of course, but 20 years have passed since the smart keys introduction to the world and now 99% of the world’s homes are smart keyed. The slogan went “make where you lay your hat your home.” But somewhere in the back of Milton’s mind he knew the late this was not home. It was nothing but a box, a place to sleep, a place to put his stuff, but not a place to live. It may have been loosely what was called a house but it was nothing like a home.

                Milton looked out the window and studied the house. It didn’t truly look like a house, none of the smart key homes did. It was just a large steel cube. Like a metal crate or storage ben placed in the center of a small yard made of gray Astroturf. The front of the steel cube had a door and above it was a green light that blazed in the darkness of the moonless night. Any of the smart key homes when available had a green light over the door. A yellow light meant that the home was out of service bar down for maintenance, and a red light meant that the home was already occupied.

                Milton sighed and opened his car door. It wasn’t going to do him any good to sit in his car all night. He had to work in the morning and he was starting to get hungry and tired. He needed to get some sleep.

                Milton stepped out of his car and headed up the small gray path and stood blankly at the door. He wasn’t sure how this worked, at least from a technical standpoint. The salesperson had tried to explain it but Milton couldn’t follow most of it. He place a key into the lock and turned. The light flashed from green to yellow and a friendly female voice said “please standby this will only take a moment” from out of some hidden speaker in the door.

                Milton waited patiently as the outer structure of the smart key home transformed. The drab gray of the cube turned white and there were windows now forming on its exterior. A porch seemed to sprout under Milton’s feet, an American flag hung down from one of the pillars. Even the lawn changed from gray Astroturf to healthy perfectly mowed grass, flowers bloomed along the small stone path to the driveway. There was even a large oak tree in the yard with a tire swing hanging from one of its lower branches. The light turned red and the friendly voice said “welcome home Mr. John’s”.

                “Yeah right.” Milton mumbled as he turned the handle and walked through the doorway leaving the key in the lock.

                The place was exactly how he left it. The empty beer can still sat on the coffee table, dirty dishes still littered the sink, and the place even still smelt of chilly for Christ sake. The smart key truly was a marvel of technology. For an extra thousand dollars, and $100 a month Milton could have splurged and got the smart key housekeeper number two. With that smart key the house would have automatically cleaned itself every time that was sent into sleep mode. It would’ve been nice but Milton that make that type of money.

                His home, or at least the contents of his home were scanned when he removed his smart key from the control panel and stored somehow in 1 billion frames of data until he returned home, any home. That was the simplicity and convenience of the smart key. Anywhere and everywhere was his home it didn’t matter what town he was in or even was Street he lived on. Everywhere was his home just waiting to be downloaded into existence. No need to get to know your neighbors because you’d have new ones soon. In an ever-changing world your home was only a keys turn away. Milton despised the entire system.

                This place was exactly like his parent’s home, the home he knew, the home he had grown up in. There were notches carved into the kitchen door frame to Mark Milton’s growth when he was young. Behind the couch was a stain on the carpet where Milton had spilled red wine during a New Year’s Eve party. Upstairs was his childhood bedroom where he got his first kiss from Suzy Zimmerman and later lost his virginity to her. Everywhere he looked there were reminders of his life, reminders that this was his home. Still Milton couldn’t suppress the knowledge that this was all counterfeit. That until tonight he had never stepped into this place before. The entire place was an illusion, it was a lie. Everything was a lie.

                Milton tossed his jacket onto the couch knocking a few beer cans onto the floor with a metallic clank. He didn’t bother to pick them up why bother he thought they’d be there tomorrow. Milton made his way up the stairs the third step creaked under his foot just as it always had. The banister wobbled a little as he used it to propel himself up the stairs, but that was okay it had been loose for years Milton was Meaning to fix it but never seemed to get around to it. Besides it was all part of the program, he wasn’t sure he could fix it even if he wanted to.

                He headed into his bedroom, his shoulders slumped his head bowed. It was all just so depressing. He was a man without a home; or rather he was a man with a home that just wasn’t quite his. It looked like his home down to the last detail something was missing. The thing is that there was no love here. Things look the same but they never felt the same. The house always felt empty and cold.

                Milton plopped onto the bed maybe he would feel better after some sleep. He started to take off his shoe when he glanced out the window and froze. “D****t!” His voice echoed through the unfeeling house. His bedroom, that is to say the bedroom of his youth sat on the north side of the house. His bedroom window overlooked Arsenal Park a place of great joy to him when he was younger. Right now however his window overlooked the highway, they had screwed up the view again. “D****t!” This was not the view of his childhood; this was simply the view from his real location.

                The highway he could see from the window was the highway that ran alongside the smart key complex. He was seeing reality; this was not what he had paid for, or what he wanted. That’s when the idea hit him, Milton moved very slow very deliberately as he stood up as if he was afraid if he moved to fast the idea would be scared away and lost forever. He moved down the stairs in a daze lost in this one simple idea. Why had he never thought of this before? It was obvious. All he had to do was go home. Not one of these fake lie homes but his real home his true home.

                Milton stepped outside shut the door and turned the key the light flashed from red to yellow and the voice said “please stand by while data is being saved”. That was it in a nutshell his entire life was nothing but data to be saved and stored away. Everything he owned everything he was was just data. The light flashed to green and the voice said “data is now saved have a nice evening Mr. Johns”. Milton pulled the key out and placed it in his pocket.

                Milton was almost running as he went to his car. He jumped in started the car and pulled out the driveway and started his drive home. It was close to 9:30 PM when he pulled up to the curb and parked his car. He would have pulled into the drive but there was already a car parked there.

                Milton was a little annoyed that someone had parked in his spot, but the anger was no match for the joy he felt at finally being home. A whisper of a thought said that this wasn’t his house and that wasn’t his parking spot but the voice banished as Milton stared in loving memory at the park across the street, it was just as he had remembered.

                The house wasn’t how he remembered though. It was the wrong color for one, and the tree was in the wrong place. The house did not have a porch at all, and the flowers were all wrong. Milton made his way through the yard and peeked in through the window someone was in his house. Two someone’s to be exact.

                A man and a woman were sitting on the couch and watching TV. Milton felt the anger well up inside of him again and he walked to the front door. There was a red light on over it and somewhere in the back of his mind a voice screamed occupied as if from a long way away.

                This would never do. There were people in his house, sitting on his couch, and enjoying his view of Arsenal Park. He placed his fingers on the key already in the door, he looked up at the red light and again thought occupied and then turned the key. Nothing happened there was a safety device on the key to prevent this very thing. As long as a house was occupied the key could not be removed.

                Milton fought with the key for 10 minutes. Grunting as he tried to force the key over and pull it out of the control panel. He kicked at the key cursing the entire time. Then as if by magic the key turned the light above the door flash from red to yellow and the voice said “please stand by while data is being saved”. Milton smiled and tapped his foot impatiently.

                Inside the house the woman screamed the man leaped toward the exit a fraction of a second to late. The walls melted into emptiness, and for two people the world turned gray and vanished in a burst of ones and zeros. The light flashed green “data is now saved; have a good night Mr. and Mrs. Anderson”. Milton dropped the keys to the ground and placed his key into the door and turned it. The light turned yellow and a friendly voice said “please standby this will only take a minute”.

Milton watched as the gray metal crate and yard transformed into his familiar home. He looked across the yard at Arsenal Park and smiled. Everything was perfect now. Everything was just as it should be. “Welcome home Mr. John’s” the voice said as the light turned red. For the first time in as far back as Milton could remember he felt happy.

                “Thank you it is good to be home.” Milton said as he stepped over the discarded key and into his home.

 

The end