I first saw him during lunch. I was running to grab a simple sub, practically salivating at the thought of the delicious food, when my eye caught a flash of silver. Turning my head, I stopped running, seeing a boy, very young, sitting with his back against the granite building behind him, head down, arms in his lap. But in the quick glance of my eyes to his necklace, flashing in the sunlight as it hung from his neck, I smelled food from the near shop and continued on my way.

 

The second time I saw him was about 6 hours later. I had gone home from that store, totally forgetting about him, and eaten my sub happily. But I was hungry again, and figured instead of another sub I'd just grab some snackfood to do me until tomorrow. So on I went, walking slowly this time, enjoying the evening air, cooler now than it was earlier. And only after I perused the shelves of the store and come back out did I again see the boy and this time got curious. He was in the same exact position, hadn't moved an inch. I stepped close to him, speaking with a low voice, in case he was some kind of psycho.

"Boy? Hey, kid, you alright?" I got no response, and inched my way over to him, patting his shoulder. "Oi, kid, are you hurt or something?" I looked around, making sure no one was around that might have hurt him and would subsequently hurt me if they saw me near him. After a momentary scan of the scenery, I nodded to myself and knelt down to pull his head up and look at his face. His eyes were closed, like he was sleeping, but he was very pale, and I noticed his cheek seemed injured. Taking another look at him as a whole I could see his hands were a little bloody, but I also could see something strange inside the cuts along one hand : silver. Taking his hand carefully and praying he didn't wake up and go teenage hormones on me I took a closer look and realized it was indeed silver. Or metal, in any case, and I sat confused for a moment, probably looking very strange as a young adult in her early twenties holding the hand of a boy who couldn't be older than fifteen or sixteen in the middle of a sidewalk. What could cause metal to be in his wounds? Was he hurt my something metal? I decided to bring him to my house, knowing if I called the police they'd just throw him to random foster homes until he hit 18 (if he hadn't already) and if he lived nearby then all I'd need to do is wait for him to wake up and help him home.

 

Decision made, I put his less injured hand around my shoulders, my arm around his middle, and stood. Or at least, I tried to. 'When did teenage boys get so damn heavy? Did he eat a tank before passing out? Would explain the metal I guess...' After ten minutes of trying, I finally managed to get him up and started walking, thanking the gods my house wasn't far away. I lugged tank-boy (as my mind was calling him for the moment) for a half an hour, when my house was only ten minutes away, and successfully got into the house and put him onto my couch before collapsing on the floor next to it. In the half an hour I'd come to grow suspicious, I mean he weighed a ton (possibly quite literally) he seemed to have metal under his skin, how was I to think any other way? He must be a cyborg of some kind, or a robot. Except...had we successfully made a humanoid robot yet? I peeked over at him. He looked real, like a person. I shook my head. Robots. Geez could I get any crazier?

 

After I rested awhile, I took to getting the first aid kit and cleaning the kid on my couch up. But as I cleaned the cuts up and placed ice on the bruises, I only saw the metal in or under his skin more clearly. I ignored it. I mean the kid was bleeding and bruised, robots and cyborgs don't do that, right? So I didn't allow myself to get all crazy with theories on how, what, where, when, and why. After placing adorable little snoopy bandaids on his cheek and hands, I warily eyed his clothes. They were dirty, and the dirt was getting into my couch. And he could be more injured under there. But I was freaked out about the thought of undressing an underage kid in my home, I mean, it wasn't like I wanted to do anything with him, I just wanted to help him! But if anyone knocked, and I answered the door, they'd see him there and call the police. I'd be thrown in jail faster than I could explain I wasn't a kiddie diddler. But after some extreme hesitation I sighed and resigned myself to a fate of cement walls and steel bars and began removing his clothes. It took what seemed like forever because of how heavy he was. I left his boxers on, relieved he wasn't one of those boys that didn't wear any, and slipped his clothes into my washing machine. After inspecting him and cleaning up more wounds that were a little worse than the ones on his hands and face, I put a simple pair of sweatpants on him with a cute tshirt of a chubby kitten and wrapped him in a blanket, to keep him warm in case he was cold.

 

I spent a good amount of time after that in the kitchen, cooking. I hadn't done so properly in ages, but I did still have some things I could make. I stared disdainfully at the 'present' of cherry tomatoes my sweet elderly neighbor had given me, unwilling to hurt her feelings to let her know I didn't like tomatoes. Maybe the kid liked veggies? I shrugged and went about slicing them up into little bites and pulled the food out, placing it on plates. Steak with mashed potatoes and gravy and for him the cherry tomatoes that I hoped he liked or it would be a waste. I brought the two plates into the living room, setting them down on the table before gently shaking his shoulder and speaking softly to try and wake him. "Hey, kid, you hungry? I made us some food. Come on, wake up and eat, ok?" But he just wouldn't wake up. I bit my lip, becoming very worried, and checked his pulse. Yep, he had one, he wasn't a corpse. I had no clue why he wouldn't wake up, but hoped maybe the smell of food wafting from the plates to his nose would maybe stir him, and brought the little table closer, sitting down and leaning back against the couch to eat.

 

Halfway through my meal I felt movement and looked around, chewing, to see wide brown eyes staring at me right at my shoulder. I jumped, then realized he wasn't even noticing me, but the food, as I waved my hand in his face to get his attention. But his gaze never faltered from my plate. I slide the table around so my side was against the couch and handed him his plate with a fork, his steak all cut up. What, I was sentimental for helping kids, even kids who were old enough to cut their own meat! His eyes somehow got bigger and he brought his gaze up to meet mine questioningly, like he didn't know what to do with the food in front of him. I blinked, not missing a beat, and took a peice of his steak onto a fork and holding it up to him, then opened my mouth to make him open his. He copied me and I put the steak into his mouth, putting the fork back on his plate, and watched as he chewed slowly, savoring the taste quite obviously. 'So the kid knows to chew once food is in his mouth, that's something at least.' Suddenly he was shoving more food into his mouth and I worried momentarily that he'd choke, putting a hand on his arm to slow him down. "Hey, it's fine. Eat slowly, I have more. Oh! Do you like cherry tomatoes, kid? I don't really like em myself, so you can have them ok?" He stopped bulldozing his food and stared at me, tilting his head like he didn't understand. I shrugged and put the tomatoes in front of him and he tried one, instantly shoveling them into his mouth too like they were going out of style. I chuckled.

 

"You must have been really hungry. Are you homeless, kid?" He again stopped eating to stare at me, and I felt a little uncomfortable. "I mean, I won't call any authorities on you or anything, just want to know if you have a home for me to bring you to." Finally it was like my words were registering in his mind as understanding lit his eyes and a little shy smile crawled onto his face. "Zelo has a home. Zelo's lost, can Zelo stay here until his owner comes to get him?" I was shocked. He thought his parents were his owners, like he was a pet or a toy?! "Zelo...is your name?" He nodded once. "Alright...um...Zelo. What do you mean, your owner?" I didn't even question his use of third person in speaking. Some things should just be left alone.

 

"Zelo's owner, the person who made Zelo. He'll come for me eventually. Then I'll have to go with him." He tilted his head again. "Zelo will need to charge soon, but..." He looked at his plate wistfully, like he'd never have food again. "Can Zelo have more of this first?" I smiled, trying to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of my brain whispering things to me, and nodded. "Of course, Zelo. I'll get you more once you finish what you have." He began eating again and I finished my own food, refilling both our plates only to come back to him eating the last of the cherry tomatoes. I stared. "Are you going to be able to eat anything else, Zelo? You...that was a lot of cherry tomatoes and you've already eaten a whole plate of steak and potatoes..." But he just smiled again. "That was steak and potatoes. And cherry tomatoes. Zelo likes them, and he is still hungry." I found it odd, that he needed to state the food items, and only later realized it was because he had never had them before and was learning the names.

 

After he somehow vacuumed down another two plates and there was no food left, he lay back down. "Zelo needs to charge. Thank you for dressing Zelo in warm clothing, it will help the charge." I blinked. "Um...ok? What do you mean by 'charge'?" His head turned in my direction, eyes focused on me. "Zelo is a Junhong brand 10151996, and so he can charge simply by what is called sleeping, instead of being plugged in somewhere. Zelo is the last of the Junhong brand cause the other ones malfunctioned." I blinked again, clueless. "You mean to tell me you aren't human?" He nodded once. "Zelo is not from this planet, human is not what Zelo is. Zelo is a robot his owner made to help assist him in the mission of finding a great energy source and then taking over the planet the source is on." He proceeded to close his eyes and fall into sleep and I just sat there, stunned, watching him in shock. 'So he's...an alien-made robot made to help take over my planet for it's energy? I...don't think so. Even if it's true, it's not happening. I won't let it.' I sat back against the couch and turned the tv on, falling asleep moments later from all the action of the day.

 

I woke up a few hours later on the couch, a blanket wrapped around me, eyes bleary. I sat up, rubbing my eyes, forgetting for the moment that I had a guest, until I blinked and looked over at the tv to see him right in front of it, watching it with interest. "How...did I get on the couch?" I asked him, since I fully remembered being on the floor. He turned and smiled fully at me and I felt my heart twinge. 'What a cute kid...'