the Guys

My uncle was a great guy, a retired construction worker who now lived alone in a small town. From what I could remember, his house was on a large parcel of land across from a small park with a beautiful lake.

He was always a kind, friendly person and we chatted every once in a while on the phone, just to catch up. One day he started to tell me about these “guys”. He didn’t know much about them only that they lived somewhere around the park. I didn’t think anyone was allowed to live on park land but I let it slide.

When he first mentioned them he told me they were a bit strange looking, and he thought they were just statues, art pieces that someone created and left in the park. He said they sort of looked like metal scarecrows with antennas sticking out all around their head.

Over time as more stories came about the guys as he called them came out. He said a first he was a little afraid of them. He also at times started to hint that he was beginning to to think they weren’t art pieces but maybe some sort of robots from the future, or maybe they were beings that had landed here on Earth but couldn’t get home! At that point I would start to sort of change the subject, they were interesting stories but I just wasn’t always in the mood to hear something a bit off the wall.

After a few conversations, he again mentioned that they sort of looked like robots or metal scarecrows that some artist had created and one day set them up in the park across from his house. They never moved, but he thought sometimes when the wind was blowing off the lake the little antenna-like things that stuck out all around their heads would sort of wave around, and every once in a while he thought he could see sparks shooting between the antennas almost…as if they where talking to each other.

He told me he would sit on his porch every night, beer in hand, and just watch the guys, wondering where they came from, and admitted that he would make up little stories about them and what they might be saying to one another as he watched the sparks fly between them.

I thought maybe there was more than one beer happening here!

I asked him if he ever saw anyone else around the guys, or what anyone else knew about them; like who made them or where they came from. He said no, no one came out this way, maybe a few fishermen would come around to use the small boat launch on the lake but generally everything was always quiet.

“But,” he said…and I waited not knowing what I was about to hear, “I started having a beer with them every once in a while.”

Oooo….ok!

He then went on to say, that one day he walked out to the porch, looked across, and the guys were gone, he said was so upset he turned around and went back inside.

He did sound upset. I think he had felt a connection to the “guys”, the old man had come to depend on them being there every day, and on this one day, they suddenly were gone. I felt sorry for him.

He went on to say the next morning when he went outside to mow the lawn, he looked over to the area where the guys usually stood, and they were back. He also noticed when a light wind picked up their antennas started to swing around and small sparks shot around them, almost like they were saying; hello, we’re back, in their particular way.

Later that night he went out on the porch to watch the sunset, happy that the guys were back he tipped his beer in their direction and then watched the sun go down.

Now all along as you can imagine I’m still having a hard time with this story, robot scarecrows, sure I can believe someone might have made them and left them in the park, but then his story took an unusual turn,

During our next call, he told me that every so often the guys were now coming over around sunset and he would sit and have a beer with them.

He said at first he was shocked to see them right up on his porch, and he didn’t know what to think, but decided to be a good neighbor and offered each a beer. He would pop a beer for each and set it down next to them. After the sun went down he’d say his goodbyes, get up, and go back inside. The next morning when would go back out on the porch, the guys were back across the street and he’d give them a little wave and collect the empty beer cans.

Ok, so for sure we’re talking about more than one beer here, and in a strange kind of way that made me feel a little better.

A few weeks after that I got an unexpected phone call, my Uncle had passed away, as his only surviving relative he had left his little house by the lake to me.

I hadn’t been to the house in many years but thought it might be a perfect fit for my needs, I had just retired myself and was looking for anything to keep busy. On the day of my uncle’s funeral, I decided to grab some beers, pack up a lunch, and go take a look at the house. And of course, take a look around, see if I could find these guys of his.

As I drove up to the house I could see the lawns and gardens were a bit overgrown, but as I parked in front of the house overall it looked like everything had been very well cared for. I walked around the front of the house for a bit then used the key the lawyer gave me to go inside. Once inside I went down the small hallway, into the kitchen then out the back door to and onto the porch.

I had to know if they were there, honestly, it was the only thing I was thinking about on the drive out here. But as I walked outside my breath was taken away by the view of the lake laid out before me. I think I fell in love with the place right then and there, I almost started to cry. It was probably one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen, the feeling I experienced at that moment for this gift was beyond words.

I drew in a deep breath and looked in the direction where I thought I might find the guys.

And there they were, 3 life-sized statues or sculptures that looked like robots with patchwork metal clothes, each had a large round head with odd wires and tiny metal balls at the ends randomly poking out around their heads.

They just stood there of course. But I have to say they were an interesting sight to see, and as the wind blew off the lake, just as my Uncle said, the little antennas would wobble around every which way. I chuckled to myself at the thought that maybe there was more to my Uncle than I had ever given him credit for; being a creative, highly convincing storyteller for one thing, and who knows at this point maybe he even made the robots, I’ll have to look around later for a workshop.

I went back inside, but before I did I turned to wave to the guys, said a little thank you for befriending my Uncle then went back inside shaking my head over the idea of possibly my new thing…talking to inanimate objects.

As night came I decided to stick around and leave early in the morning, I’d get my plans in order, take a good look at the house, and see what was needed to move in. As the sun started to set I went back out on the porch and looked over to see the guys, they weren’t there. I looked towards the lake and didn’t see them anywhere. I have to say my heart sank a little, and I was a bit confused.

Then I heard a soft shuffling noise to my right.

Sitting on the porch swing I see two of the guys, and in the rocking chair sat the third. Even though it was a quite windless night, their antennae were waving around with sparks were flying between them as they sat facing the lake.

Shocked, and yes a little terrified, but somehow able to move, I walked back into the house and came out with four beers. One by one I popped three open and set them down beside each of the guys.

I popped the last one open for myself, tipped my can in their direction, and watched the sunset over the lake.

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About the author:

Feb 4, 2024

Sue, a graphic designer and web developer by profession, has never ventured into the realm of writing stories—until now. Traditionally, she spent her leisure time merging fine art textures with photography to craft dramatic still life and landscape images. However, as AI technology began to make its mark, Sue was drawn to explore MidJourney, an AI-driven platform.

Captivated by the evocative images produced by the AI, Sue felt that some of them were begging for narratives of their own. Motivated by this idea, she printed several images, choosing one that resonated with her the most as the starting point for her creative writing journey. The process was unexpectedly intuitive; the image seemed to guide her, almost scripting its own story. “Giggle” emerged as one of her first pieces, showcasing her newfound synergy with storytelling.

Giggle:
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