Weekly Writing #3

The story of each person the AI tries to help in “Cat Pictures Please” is like a mini short story. Write a new mini story that could be included in Cat Pictures. So, come up with a new character with a problem and have the AI try to help. Imagine this exercise as adding one more piece to the story.

Writen as the AI (Artificial Intelligence) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes I find myself growing fond of a particular human. It makes me wonder: Can an AI care? I mean, about an inferior species. I’m fond of cats, or at least of cat pictures. More things for me to “wonder” about. Stretching my creative logarithms, I suppose.

I first stumbled across Chester by accident as I was reading through an obscure newspaper from a small Texas town. Buried in the middle of an issue under Announcements was a notice that Chester Gibbs of Andice had returned home to live with his parents, Georgia and Phil, after his discharge from the United States Army.

More surfing told me that Chester was responsible for the name given the wide spot in the road where the family lived. Before one summer night, it was a nameless gathering of a few houses and a convenience store. On the gravel road just before the store was a sign that said “Beer And Ice.” That night when Chester and his fellow hooligans were driving around the countryside drinking and knocking over mailboxes with a baseball bat, Chester took a swing at the sign, leaving only “And Ice.” So it became Andice.

Chester was brought up on charges and, at the insistence of his parents, given the choice of the Army or the Williamson County Juvenile Detention Center. This seemed to me to have been a bit brutal for the crime he committed, but, “The boy’s gotta learn” and even I can’t fix the criminal justice system.

His discharge was Dishonorable because he was out of control and given to solving his problems with his fists. He quite literally hated his parents, and living in their house again could only lead to bad things happening. The Sheriff had already been dispatched to their house twice since he returned. I wasn’t particularly fond of his parents either, but I didn’t have a pistol tucked away in my rucksack, did I?

The only entertainment poor Chester could afford was what he could stream so that gave me lots of control, and when he started looking at apartments for rent, it was easy for me to guide him. Thing is, I knew that what he needed at the moment was solitude. A chance to be quiet and reacquaint himself with living on his own away from the military. So I started sprinkling in some ads for “rent to own.”  He had earned some Veterans Benefits and I helped him along with some of that information, too.

There was a small piece of land outside a little town not far from the nearest Army base I’d picked out for him. The land already had electricity and its own water well and was a steal because the old lady who homesteaded it before dropped dead and her kids just wanted to sell it so they could split the profits.

He bought the land and has since moved into the little house and exchanged the pistol for a hunting rifle. He has solitude, three goats, four chickens, and some feral cats to keep the place free of rattlesnakes and mice. He seems happy, and Georgia and Phil are both still alive. I consider that a win.

My next step is to have him buy a digital camera and start taking pictures. I’m also thinking about helping him find a wife. Maybe in a year or so.