Grandpa is a Dinosaur by Eddie D. Moore

I love the faint hum my robotic limbs make when I flex my claws or tilt my head. My son, Will, thought I was crazy when I told him that I wanted my consciousness transferred into a two foot tall robotic ankylosaur. I still remember how weak I felt those last few days and how the arthritis in my joints throbbed. Getting old sucks. Take my advice and avoid it at all costs.

Late at night, I patrol the house while I wirelessly monitor the home security and emergency broadcasts systems. I spend my days playing hide-n-seek with my grandchildren. What better post life could I have chosen for myself? After thirty some odd years on the police force, to serve and protect tempered my bones, now it’s hardwired in my neural net.

My internal sensors detected faint vibrations in the floorboards a moment before my five year old granddaughter, Alison, ran past the doorway I was hiding behind. She giggled when she heard the clop of my plastic coated feet as I gave chase. She dived onto her bed, or what she called the safe zone, and wrapped herself in the covers.

The blunted spikes on my tail slapped the door frame with a thwack when I ran into her room. A moment later, I was under her bed and jostling it up, down and side to side. I felt the bed lighten when Alison jumped off and ran for the living room couch, her other safe zone. When I managed to drag myself out from under the bed, I found Will standing in the doorway.

“It’s time for Alison to go to bed, dad. JP is already asleep.”

I nodded my head and parked my rear end in the hallway charging station as he walked away.

A few minutes later, Will returned carrying a laughing Alison over his shoulder. I heard the springs in her mattress recoil as he deposited her on the bed. Once she was settled and tucked in for the night, Will eased out of Alison’s room, shut the door and spoke to me in hushed tones.

“Jenny is having a rough shift at the hospital. I’m going to slip out and bring her something to eat. Okay?”

JP was fifteen, the house had a modern alarm system, and I had decades of experience to draw upon. I saw my son’s absence for an hour or two as a non issue, so I gave him a quick nod.

“I wish you’d speak to us every once in awhile.” A muffled dinosaur roar sounded in Will’s pocket, and he pulled out his phone to read the message I sent him. He sighed. “I know you’re enjoying playing your part at the moment, but you’re my father not the family pet.” He glanced at his watched and headed for the kitchen; I disconnected from the charger and followed as he spoke. “I’ve got to hurry or I’ll miss her scheduled break,” he said while digging through the refrigerator.

After I heard the hum of Will’s electric car back out of the driveway, I returned to my charging station to finish my quick charge cycle. Silence surrounded me, and the peacefulness reminded me of the nights I’d spent patrolling the city streets. I inwardly chuckled to myself when the tranquility was interrupted by dispatch over the scanner. Some things never change.

The first call was for a multivehicle accident on I-40 west. I quickly did the math and calculated that Will should’ve reached the hospital before the accident, so at least I knew he was safe. I sent him a quick message to let him know that he’d need to take an alternative route home and heard the faint message alert from his phone in the kitchen. I’ve always said that boy would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body.

I saw via the security cameras a black SUV pull into the driveway. While I waited to see if the vehicle turned around, the dispatcher advised that two homes had been burglarized nearby. Then the dispatcher added that a black SUV was seen leaving one of the houses had caused the crash on the highway. Even though I no longer have a heartbeat or adrenal gland, I still felt a sense of urgency rise within me.

I triggered the home security system but nothing happened, and just as I tried to contact emergency services, the phone and WIFI network became inaccessible. I saw one of the SUV doors open as the security cameras scrambled.

I ran for the living room as fast as my stubby legs could take me. There wasn’t time to wake the kids, explain the situation and ask them to hide. It was up to me to protect them, but how to do that as a twenty-four inch tall metal and plastic dinosaur was the question. I hadn’t considered that someone could cut us off from the outside world.

When I reached the front door, I heard booted footsteps on the front porch. Sometimes I pretended to be a dog when I chase Alison around the house, and hoping that I didn’t wake her, I chose my most vicious dog bark and played the file at full volume. There was a pause, and I heard someone on the other side whisper, “Let’s go around back and take care of the dog.”

For most thieves the dog would’ve been enough of a deterrent, but these guys knew the police were looking for them and were desperate for a quick place to hide. I listened for any sign that my barking had woke the children and I glanced down the hallway as I moved toward the back door. I was relieved to see that neither of them had come out of their rooms.

I heard a soft thud and a crack as one of the men threw his weight against the back door. The door withstood that blow, but I doubted it would hold against the next assault. When I entered the kitchen, a motion sensor turned on the lights, and I played a voice file that I’d been saving for the next time JP wanted to play.

A deep baritone voice shouted, “Who’s out there?” I followed it with the sound of someone jacking a pump shotgun.

If I still needed to breathe, I would’ve half been holding my breath for the next few moments, but another blow to the door didn’t come and a couple seconds later, I heard the SUV back out of the driveway and drive off.

The electronics in the house reset themselves and resumed normal operations. It was my pleasure to contact emergency services and give the police their plate number from the security video and which direction they went.

Alison was softly snoring when I slipped into her room to check on her, and I knew JP could sleep through a train wreck. Five minutes later, the SUV was forced off the road and the thieves were taken into custody. I can’t tell you how thankful I am that I was given the opportunity to have a post life.

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Eddie D. Moore travels extensively for work, and he spends much of that time listening to audio books. The rest of the time is spent dreaming of stories to write and he spends the weekends writing them. His stories have been published by Jouth Webzine, Kzine, Alien Dimensions, Theme of Absence, Devolution Z, and Fantasia Divinity Magazine. Find more on his blog: https://eddiedmoore.wordpress.com/.