Core Drive: A Westworld Story

Reverie 2015-B: Joy

From the kitchen window, Joy saw that the red swing in the backyard had a small mountain of snow on it. She liked winter the least as a season. Especially when she was single.

Cuddle weather. She huffed as she ran her tongue across her teeth. Her hands were too empty. She needed to give them something to do to stop her mind from yapping.

She tore at a hot cinnamon bun laying on the baking tray. Her mouth savoured the sweet and earthy citrus layers.

Theresa was chasing after Charlie with a jumper. His laugh lit up the large house. The echoes reminding Joy of what the house had looked like years ago; plastic sheeting on the window frames, scaffolding keeping the exterior intact and cement dust colouring the untiled floor grey.

"Gotcha!" Theresa exclaimed in triumph as she swung Charlie around in her arms. Motherhood looked good on her sister, even if her hair had more greys than before and she traded in her suits for sweaters. Theresa had never intended to stop practicing law, but after Charlie was born, life kept getting in the way, and staying home seemed the practical thing to do. Even removed from her old life, Theresa's personality still bloomed as regally as before. Joy had always envied Theresa for being so adaptable. And for being so tall.

Charlie ran over to steal one of the cinnamon rolls before darting out into the living room to play with his VR set. Joy noticed he'd lost a little weight since the last time she'd seen him.

Theresa huffed, arms akimbo, "That little rascal. He knows his birthday's coming up and Arnold lets him get away with murder. He's too smart for his own good."

"Speaking of which," Joy reached into her bag and pulled out a cardboard box. "I found this at a thrift shop. One of those pop-up ones. They had some real classic shit—"

"Shhh," Theresa frowned and nudged her head towards Charlie. "No swearing. He picks up all the bad words like a sponge."

Joy held up a hand, "Right, okay. Anyway, it's apparently a toy made for some 80's show. It's in good condition too. I thought he'd love it. Give him a break from living in that thing," Joy pointed at Charlie, bright grin on his face as he swished a sword only he could see through the VR headset.

The box had a graphic of a maze on the cover. The theme was western, like the old movies Arnold loved to watch. Joy stashed it in the cereal cupboard out of Charlie's reach.

"What's this?" Theresa saw a box tied with a silk ribbon in Joy's bag. Cream coloured fabric sewn around the edges with a high-end brand name stitched in calligraphy. Theresa tried to whistle, she'd never learned how. "Fancy. This doesn't look like one of those gift baskets they give out at work. I have a stack of those because Arnold can never say no when he's handed one. Wait a minute...did you meet someone?"

"Oh, he's fancy alright. Practically royalty with his daddy's net-worth," Joy rolled her eyes, tearing another piece of pastry to munch on. "Also, a bad decision."

"Why? Dating could be fun."

"It's just..." Joy sighed, "I haven't had the best track record when it comes to life choices this past year. Or dating."

"Because of you and Ford?" Theresa tore herself a piece of pastry too. Looking around as if she were about to say something illegal. "I thought things were okay between you two now?"

"It's not just that," Joy took off her glasses and began fussing with a spiral of hair. "A year ago, I swore up and down I wasn't going to work with them again. Not after I realised what my code was being used for. Yet, I'm right back to square one. The only difference is that now the marketing department has branded 'square one' as Westworld. So it's a trademarked 'square one.'"

"Don't touch, it'll frizz," Theresa lectured with her 'mom' voice.

Joy let go of her hair on command. She laughed at the irony of feeling like a host reacting to a prompt.

"You know it couldn't be avoided. You needed a job after Concord went under," Theresa said.

"They didn't go under. They were bought out by Incite. And you know how I feel about corporations that deal in data collection and—"

"And surveillance business," Theresa sighed, closing her eyes so she could roll them in secret—a habit she picked up ever since she got married. "I know. I know. Isn't that all the more reason to try out new things?"

"A relationship is the last thing I need right now."

Theresa chuckled mischievously, "Who said anything about relationships? I'm talking about fun. A punch card for the spank bank." She swung her hips playfully, taking note to stay out of Charlie's line of sight.

Joy felt a blush settle on her nose, "You're saying I should get laid?"

"I'm saying you should have fun once in a while." Theresa undid the delicate bow of the gift box, reading the gift card once she got her hands on it: "'Thank you for opening my eyes to how things really work. With deep affection, Logan Delos,'" she chuckled. "He underlined 'really' twice."

"Did he now?" Joy asked with disinterest.

Theresa showed Joy the card.

The watermark of a dove on the stationary was almost indistinguishable from the shade of cream-white the card was made of. It wasn't until Theresa tilted the card at just the right angle that the dove shone like foil under an oven light.

Theresa opened the box fully, not bothering to ask permission. To both their surprises, it wasn't jewellery or fine clothing inside, but a set of expensive-looking letterhead: a stack of card paper with the same dove watermark and shimmering effect, corresponding envelopes of a plain design, two fountain pens with Joy's name engraved on them, and, for the final touch, a fragile fibreglass sculpture of a dove paperweight.

"These are beautiful," Theresa didn't want to touch them, hesitating to touch them as though her hands were suddenly dirtied.

Joy picked up the dove paperweight, her eyes reflected back at her in a mesmerising effect off the grooves on the dove's body.

"Is there anything else in there?" Joy asked.

Theresa arched a brow, moving the letterhead with a feather-light touch. "There is. It's an invitation to a live art performance at a museum. It's tomorrow. Black tie event."

"It's been a while since I got dressed up..." Joy bit her lip to keep from letting an excited smirk best her blasé act. "Maybe I do need to have more fun."

"Couldn't hurt," Theresa played along.

"Can I borrow the Chanel?" Joy batted her eyes as if she were a child again.

Theresa snorted, "You're not going to a black-tie event in a pantsuit. I have something better."

"The Cartier?" Joy gasped, eyes large.

"I can't fit into it anymore," Theresa moved a curl away from Joy's face. "Besides, it'll do more for you than it does gathering dust in my closet."