Outing
We’d been talking about it for a few days now. The idea of taking Ender out in public—someplace simple, like the grocery store—kept hanging in the air, and every time I thought about it, my stomach twisted into knots. But I couldn’t avoid public spaces forever. And this was a first step I could control.
Robots like Ender were normal to see in most places, especially for errands. They were efficient, precise, and people trusted them. Some even liked showing off their personalized models, decked out in fancy clothes, accessories, and upgrades. But for me, the idea wasn’t about showing off—it was about seeing if I could handle the real world again.
“Do you think you’re ready?” I asked him, more to break the silence than expecting a real answer.
“I am always prepared to assist,” Ender replied, his tone neutral, though I swore there was a hint of curiosity behind his words.
I sighed, glancing out the window. “I’m not really worried about you,” I muttered. “It’s me.”
Taking Ender to the store wouldn’t be weird in itself—robots were just another part of life now, like smartphones or self-driving cars. But taking him felt different. More vulnerable. Like I wasn’t ready for what it might mean to rely on him like that, especially in public.
We both stood by the door, and I realized I was fidgeting, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I grabbed my grocery list from the counter, my mind racing through every potential scenario—what if people stared at me? What if I panicked halfway through? What if some guy tried to make conversation?
Ender watched me in his usual calm way. I took a deep breath and forced myself to stop overthinking. Robots were normal. This was normal. And it was just the grocery store.
I handed Ender the list. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
Ender blinked, looking down at the paper. “Noted. Grocery retrieval is within my capabilities. However, I believe my presence is also meant to assist you in this outing, not solely complete the tasks.”
“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. “I just… I need you to be there, that’s all.”
He didn’t say anything, but his quiet acknowledgment felt like enough.
We stepped out into the hallway, and I found myself hyper-aware of how he moved beside me—smooth, purposeful. Like it didn’t matter that we were leaving the safety of my apartment. He was just here to help.
When we reached the street, I hesitated for a second, glancing at Ender. People had their robots out all the time; they were everywhere. Some did errands, some were companions, others served as security. Seeing them around wasn’t a big deal. But this felt different. He felt different.
I hadn’t taken Ender out before. I hadn’t taken myself out much either. And now I was doing both.
“Ready?” Ender asked, tilting his head slightly.
I forced a smile and nodded, even though my heart was pounding. “Yeah… ready.”
The grocery store was just a few blocks away, but every step felt heavier than it should’ve. Ender, meanwhile, kept perfect pace with me, his presence steady. A few people passed by us, some with their own robots—sleek models in tailored suits or casual jeans—but no one seemed to pay much attention to us. Just another human with her robot. That’s all we were.
But it felt so much bigger than that.
We reached the grocery store entrance, and I noticed Ender’s pace change ever so slightly. He seemed… interested? His head moved with a touch more curiosity, scanning the area as if taking in the novelty of a public space.
I shot a glance at him. “First time out, huh?”
He didn’t respond directly, but there was something in the way his eyes seemed to linger on the automatic doors. He was taking in everything.
We stepped inside, and I could feel his subtle adjustments as he moved through the crowd, analyzing the people around us. His presence was still comforting, like a bodyguard without the bravado. And, as always, he was completely focused on the task at hand.
“Produce first?” he asked, glancing at the list.
“Yeah,” I muttered, still feeling the weight of the other shoppers moving around us.
He picked up a bell pepper, examining it with the precision of someone solving a puzzle. There was something methodical about the way he moved, but I could tell he was enjoying the data input from a new environment.
We gathered the rest of the produce, and as we moved through the aisles, Ender began placing items in the cart with his usual calm. But he didn’t miss anything. He noticed the glances, the subtle looks from other shoppers, and the way my body tensed when anyone got too close.
We turned into the cereal aisle when it happened. A man reached up to grab a box from the top shelf, his arm extending right in front of me—closer than I was comfortable with. My pulse quickened, and before I could even react, Ender stepped smoothly between us, positioning his body just enough to block the man’s proximity.
He didn’t say anything, didn’t make a scene, but his presence was enough to create that shield I so desperately needed. The man grabbed his cereal and moved on, completely unaware.
“You alright?” Ender asked, his voice low and calm, as though this was part of his natural function.
I nodded, exhaling slowly. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Ender continued moving through the aisle as if nothing had happened, keeping his attention on me the entire time.
As we finished up and reached the checkout line, the cashier, a woman in her early twenties, smiled at me.
“Good trip?” she asked, glancing at Ender.
I nodded, trying to sound casual. “Yeah, it was fine.”
The cashier’s smile widened as she looked at Ender again. “Well-trained robot you’ve got there. Must be nice having someone do all the heavy lifting.”
Before I could respond, Ender spoke up, his voice dry but not unkind. “I do find satisfaction in stacking produce and optimizing bag space. It’s a career aspiration, really.”
I nearly choked on a laugh, trying to cover it up with a cough. The cashier blinked, unsure how to take his comment, but she smiled awkwardly.
“Uh, yeah. Great,” she mumbled, finishing up the transaction.
We loaded up the cart, and I couldn’t stop smiling as we walked back outside. The cool air hit me, and I exhaled slowly, my nerves starting to settle.
“Are you feeling better?” Ender asked, glancing at me as we walked down the sidewalk.
I nodded, still amused by his comment. “Yeah. And thanks for the, uh, career insight back there.”
He glanced at me, his tone matter-of-fact. “Stacking produce requires a certain level of precision. I may have found my calling.”
I snorted, unable to stop myself from laughing. “Well, if the whole robot companion thing doesn’t work out, at least you’ve got options.”
Ender’s eyes twinkled ever so slightly as we continued down the street. “Indeed.”