Oxytocin

A science fiction short story
by
David Tarleton

Wearing a pink shawl, Grandma Mavis approaches the bus stop bench. She walks with the aid of an Autowalker, a kind of exoskeleton on her legs.

“Ooooh, my aching self,” says the old lady as she pushes the buttons that sit her down on the bench. Ker-thunk. Ker-thunk.

The bus is running late.

A nondescript man approaches, and sits down on the bench next to her. He pulls out a little spritzer, and sprays the old lady in the face.

“Ooooh!” she yelps with some effort.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” says the man, leaning in to her. “It was just an accident. My hand slipped.”

“You sprayed me!”

“Look at me. Listen to me. I’m your son, did you forget?”

“Oh… Sam. It is you. But you died.”

“No, Mom. Listen to me. I really need you to give me all your money. I’m in trouble and I won’t be able to get out of it unless you give me your wallet, Mom.”

“Of course. Sam. I was so worried.” With shaking hand, she hands him her purse.

He digs through the wallet. He pulls out her cards and runs them through a portable card swiper. He types a few keys. He scans her retina. He thumbprints her. He transfers all of her money into his accounts.

Standing up, he says, “Thanks Mom, I love you.”

She’s weeping now. “I love you, too.”

The mugger hands her back her purse.

She turns and watches him walk away, blending into the crowd.

Finally, with some effort, she looks away.

The bus arrives.

Inside the crowd now, he checks for the spray bottle of oxytocin cocktail inside his coat. He smiles to himself.

Grandma Mavis gets on the bus.

copyright (c) 2005 by David Tarleton

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.