Home Tour About Read What's New Help Forums Join
My Account Login

Four Ways For A Christian Writer To Win A Publishing Package HERE

The HOME for Christian writers! The Home for Christian Writers!



What's New
The Pains of a Prototype
by Isaiah Basye
For Sale
Author requests article critique


Part 1

Professor Lukonin tightened one last bolt. He scratched the scruff on his scraggly face. He hadn’t shaved in months. His life’s work stood before him. It’s head and limbs hung limp. Professor Lukonin smiled and tightened its joints once more for good measure. He shined the brass coverings and his creation’s intricately crafted face.

“You’re beautiful,” the Professor said. He saw his reflection in the prototypes’ brass chest plate.

Then Professor Lukonin soldered his creation’s name into its neck. The name Dimio was burned into the brass. He blew on the hot metal and took one more opportunity to observe his handiwork. Dimio was his greatest creation, and Professor Lukonin had never been more proud of anything in his entire life.

When the Professor first decided to create Dimio he scrimped and sacrificed. He bought only the finest parts he could accumulate over time. One year he only had enough to buy Dimio’s right arm. The next year he worked extra hard tightening clocks and repairing music boxes so he could save up for Dimio’s voice box. One particularly tough year the Professor could only purchase a few gears.

But now he stood back and observed as it all came together. He had created an android. A companion that he hoped would cure his loneliness. Professor Lukonin did have plenty of acquaintances, but he never had the companionship of his very own creation.

Over the years the professor had collected only the finest oil to maintain the condition of Dimio’s heart. It was stored in a side room next to his laboratory that was in his basement. Upstairs was his workshop where he crafted mechanical toys for children. There were stacks of oil drums hidden behind a thin white sheet. Professor Lukonin filled his tin oil can to the brim and opened Dimio’s chest cavity. Inside was a complex system of gears, each one just as vital as the other. The smallest gear turned the larger ones. Each fitting worked together to help Dimio move his fingers or turn his head. Every part performed flawlessly and now it was time to give Dimio life.

Contained within Dimio’s chest was a small round chamber. It moved similar to the chambers of a heart and pumped with a pulsing motion. The function of it was to fill the android’s body with oil, and simulated a real heart. Oil was necessary to keep each gear moving with ease, as well as processing sound in the voice box. The precious lube was also pumped to Dimio’s computer brain to help him think and learn. Oil was the blood that kept Dimio moving, and the Professor couldn’t wait to fill Dimio with it.

Anxiously, Professor Lukonin opened the top hatch of the round container and filled it.

“That should last him a day or two,” he said to himself.

Then the Professor clapped with excitement for his project was nearly complete! He took two clamps that were attached to a battery that pulled power from cords that hung exposed from the Professor’s basement wall. There were two bolts that stuck out on both sides of Dimio’s robotic heart. The Professor placed the clamps carefully on each bolt. A few sparks ignited and made Professor Lukonin jump. Then the Professor went to his breaker box and flipped the switch. Sparks spread throughout the room, and a light bulb burst. Shards of glass fell from the ceiling like rain. The Professor waited in the dark. He could hear the sound of Dimio’s heart pumping, but he couldn’t see any life. Then, to the Professor’s excitement, two round eyes lit up like flashlights and blinked.

The Professor turned on a small lamp in the corner and rushed over to his creation. In the dim lighting the Professor watched as Dimio moved his gears just right so he could place his brass fingers on his head. It was as though he was confused.

“Your name is Dimio,” Professor Lukonin instructed his creation, like he was talking to a small child.

“Di..mi..o,” Dimio responded back.

“That’s right, and I am your father,” Professor Lukonin said.

“Fa….ther,” Dimio repeated.

“Very good,” the Professor clapped. “You’re perfect.”

“Per…fect,” Dimio moved his gears just right to create a smile.

Dimio studied his hand and moved his fingers just as his brain had told them to. He wiggled his toes and moved his knee back and forth. He then picked up a ratchet and used his metallic biceps and triceps to move it up and down.

The Professor smiled. His life’s work was complete and was progressing more and more with each passing minute. Dimio was like a child, but soon Dimio would be a fully functioning robot.

Part 2

Since his creation seven years ago the Professor had chosen not to take Dimio out of the workshop. At this point Dimio would be celebrating a birthday, yet he was not like the average boy of 7. Androids are known to progress faster then humans so his actual intellect would be the equivalent of a genius fourteen-year-old human boy. Being sheltered from the outside world, Dimio did not have the everyday stresses of life to get in the way of learning and development. Everything Dimio knew about the outside world he learned in books. The Professor’s library was full of encyclopedias, dictionaries, biographies, and autobiographies. There was a wealth of information within those dusty old pages, and Dimio had already read each and every word. He soaked it in like a sponge. His language had quickly developed, and he spoke elegantly. Dimio had even learned a few foreign dialects. He would translate for the Professor, nothing seemed too challenging. Professor Lukonin would play him in chess and often lost. Dimio could solve the most complex puzzles in a matter of seconds. It was safe to say that Dimio was a well-rounded android. He was extremely intelligent, and the Professor couldn’t have been more proud of his creation. He loved him dearly. Every moment they spent together was more precious than the last.

Despite Dimio’s enjoyment of knowledge and fondness for beating his father at chess, it was becoming clear he wasn’t satisfied with being kept indoors. Dimio would sit in the Professor’s toy shop and gaze out the dusty window. Days would pass where Dimio would only sit and observe the people walking by with their grocery sacks, visiting with friends, or performing street music. Dimio would return to the basement from time to time, so Professor Lukonin could refill his metal heart. Only then to return and sit, watching through the window.

The Professor noticed his forlorn behavior. He began to worry for the well being of his android. Professor Lukonin had hoped his companionship would be enough for his creation, but he was beginning to see he needed more.

“Come to me, son,” Professor Lukonin said motioning to Dimio.

Dimio moved his gears and stood up. His joints creaked for he had sat at the window for a long time that day. Dimio faced his creator. The Professor wondered if he saw a hint of emotion in his blinking blank eyes that glowed. Dimio waited for his father to speak as he processed the likelihood the conversation would go the way he was hoping.

“I can tell there is longing in your eyes. I have seen it for a long time. I think today I’m going to allow you to travel with me outside the shop,” the Professor said.

Dimio moved his head up and down. He gave a slight smile, and the Professor noticed the thumping sound of his heart working harder.

The Professor placed a long woolen coat around Dimio that covered his neck to his feet. Then he placed a newsboy cap on his head. The coat’s high collar hid his robotic face, and the gloves covered his metallic fingers. Professor Lukonin didn’t want to give away Dimio’s identity. Even though androids were somewhat common in his great city he felt none were as great as Dimio. He would be a most valuable possession for any collector of gizmos.

Dimio followed his maker out of the shop. The Professor locked the door behind them, and they made their way through the busy streets. Dimio watched and observed. He took in every little detail from the sound the brick road made on his metal toes to the way people traveled to and fro like ants in a line.

The Professor led Dimio downtown to pick up a few loaves of bread. Dimio carried the paper bag. Then Dimio took note of how precise the butcher was as he sliced only the best cuts of meat for his designer, the Professor. He listened to their polite conversation.

"What do you think son?” Professor Lukonin asked as they walked down the street.

“I think it’s splendid, father,” Dimio replied. “So many different people. Do they all speak with pleasant words as you do?”

The Professor frowned, “Unfortunately the world isn’t always so kind Dimio. It can be a dark place. That’s why I kept you from it for so long. There are many who would rather spread despair than hope.”

“Father, why would someone wish displeasure toward another so? The world in your books is so full of wonder,” Dimio questioned.

“Some people have felt pain and hold onto it tightly even though it destroys them. Like a child seeking warmth from the cold, they hold onto their warm coal but it burns them badly. They become dependent on crutches that only fix their problems temporarily, leading to more pain,” the Professor frowned. “Not that we have seen the good of this city. I think it’s time I let you see the darker side.”

Dimio followed the Professor to a darkened alley. Along both sides of the backstreet, men and women found shelter in cardboard boxes and shivered on the cold ground. One of them was quivering and shaking, not from the cold but from a withdrawal of drugs that ran through his poisoned veins. Another younger man in a long black coat performed tricks with a ball and three cups. Bystanders looking to win a buck placed their bets. Dimio watched and knew the probability of where the ball should be, but the ball disappeared. That’s when he noticed the man was cheating and sliding the ball in his pocket at the last minute. Some of the gamblers began to get nasty with the dealer demanding their money back, so brandished a sizable blade that was tucked in his belt. The gamblers jumped and went about their business.

“Hey old man,” another dark looking fellow spoke to the professor, “you look like you need to relax. I got just the stuff.”

He quickly pulled out a vile of bright blue liquid. Dimio blinked his bright eyes and processed this mysterious concoction. He had never read about it before.

“We’re not interested,” the Professor replied.

He continued to pull Dimio through the dark alley and out the other side.

They continued on down by the boat docks on the southern side of town. These docks were popular amongst smugglers. Men who were down on their luck would wager their lives in battling the rough seas to make a few dollars to support their next high. Dimio watched as waves hit against the wharf and water splashed the vagrants who stood chatting nearby.

“Do you have any rum?” an old man with a scraggly beard bellowed at Dimio. He was missing most of his teeth and had rancid breath. Of course Dimio didn’t know this and held his hand out for the man to shake.

The old man shook his hand and gave Dimio an odd look.

“You’re a strange feller,” he said.

“We were just leaving,” the Professor interrupted.

As they walked back to their shop they walked through another dark alley. The Professor knew it was less dangerous and a good shortcut. As they walked through Dimio noticed a peculiar man, probably in his thirties, who leaned upon an oil drum burning a fire. Dimio made eye contact with the young man who gave him an inquisitive look. Dimio saw something curious in the young man’s face. His left eye was not natural. It zoomed in on Dimio and seemed to change lenses. Dimio also noticed the bright blue dot that seemed to radiate out the strange eye. The skin on the left side of his face was more reflective than any skin he’d seen before. Dimio took note of this man in his memory. He sparked Dimio’s curiosity. His brain was busy calculating the probability that he would see this man again. The probability was high.

Part 3

Dimio had several trips with Professor Lukonin. It was always a nice change of pace, but he was always thinking about running into that peculiar man. Countless times Dimio tried to convince the Professor to give him a chance to go out on his own. One day he got that chance.

“I’m all out of small springs, Dimio,” the Professor said. “Can you make a trip to Alexander’s shop down the road? I believe you’re ready to do this task on your own.”

Dimio didn’t hesitate to grab his long jacket and hat from the coat hanger. He donned a wool scarf around his neck and tapped his metal fingers together in anticipation.

“I will not fail you, father,” Dimio said.

Professor Lukonin handed Dimio a list of items to purchase. Dimio folded the list carefully and placed it in the inner pocket of his coat. Professor Lukonin put his hand on Dimio’s shoulder and smiled. Dimio nodded his head for his readiness to proceed. His maker, howerever, had a look of uncertainty in his eyes. The Professor gazed into Dimio’s circular eyes. They blinked on and off. Dimio then tilted his head to the side to process his thoughts from his computer brain.

“You can trust me,” Dimio said.

The Professor smiled, nodded, and hugged Dimio. Dimio stood motionless in Professor Lukonin’s embrace.

Dimio opened the creaky door. He looked back at the Professor one last time before shutting the door behind him.

Dimio was finally alone in the world, and he had planned a few things to investigate from previous trips, things that weren’t found in his encyclopedias. Dimio went to a street musician who could play more than one instrument at a time. He asked him many questions. The street musician was patient and answered every one until Dimio was satisfied. Then he went to a man who could breathe fire. Dimio tried to investigate his abilities by watching then questioning the man. The fire-eater wasn’t as open as the musician. Dimio could tell his questions were becoming a nuisance to the man, so he left. Next, Dimio went to the gambling man in the dark alley. He knew that this trip was more dangerous than the others, but he wanted to make sure the man knew that his game was not in the best interest of his friends.

The man was in the middle of an intense round. He was rapidly shifting the cups around when Dimio walked up. The stacks of money were tall and increasing.

“Excuse me, sir,” Dimio said.

The man ignored him and kept up his game.

“Did you know that when you hide the ball in your sleeve last minute it makes your customers chances of winning decrease significantly,” Dimio offered.

The man playing the game stopped and slowly looked at the gamblers. He shot Dimio an angry look. One gambler grabbed the man’s sleeve and shook it. A small red ball rolled out and onto the ground.

Dimio stepped back as the men began to beat up the phony gamer. When they were finished with him they grabbed their money and ran out of the alley. Dimio stooped to check on the battered man. Blood dripped from his nose, and he was unconscious.

Dimio checked his pulse with the sensors in the end of his fingertips.

“He has a pulse,” Dimio said to himself. He then directed his attention to the homeless woman who observed the whole incident. “Could you take care of this man?”

Dimio processed the probability the man would recover. The probability was high, so he left the man there. He had one last character to investigate before he purchased the items from the list.

Dimio peeked down the alley to see if the mysterious man was still there. He was leaning against a large trash bin. He smoked a cigarette that wafted a bright blue smoke. Dimio bowed to the man before he studied his features closer.

The man’s eye was unnatural. Like he noticed before it had a small blue circular light in the middle. The eye had three different lenses that focused at three different levels. The left side of his face was sleek and shined from the bright embers that burned at the end of his cigarette. He wore a long navy jacket and a boiler hat on his head. His pants appeared to be flesh-colored tights, and Dimio wondered if they were pants at all.

“Excuse me, sir,” Dimio said, “I have a few questions for you.”

“Not one for questions,” the man said.

His voice was deep and raspy. It sounded like each word came as a struggle. His eye changed focus levels as he stared at Dimio’s face. He inhaled from his cigarette and puffed the smoke in Dimio’s face.

“That doesn’t bother you, does it?” the man said. “Of course not. You’re not… normal.”

“This is why I have come to you, friend. I believe you are also not normal,” Dimio replied.

“What is normal?” he asked.

“According to the dictionary, normal means…”

“No,” the man interrupted. “I don’t want to know the definition. Why do you hide your pretty brass coverings, boy? Most androids would show that off. Or are you afraid to shine in my dark alleys. Shining usually gets attention, and you know that everyone wants attention.”

Dimio tilted his head to the side. He knew the man was speaking with a form of sarcasm. He couldn’t tell if his words were threatening or just a general statement about the real world. Either way, Dimio found himself very curious about this person.

“What about your eye?” Dimio pried.

The man blew another puff of smoke, “Wouldn’t you like to know my name?” he asked.

Dimio nodded. He wasn’t happy that the man avoided his question, but he knew that knowing names was a formal gesture and showed good manners.

“My name is Hud,” he said.

“I’m Dimio, he responded back.

“Well Dimio would you believe that we have a lot in common?” Hud asked.

Dimio tilted his head to the other side. This time his newsboy cap almost fell off. Dimio shook his head no. He hadn’t observed any similarities between him and Hud.

“I’m not fully human, Dimio,” Hud said. “I’m a cyborg. One of the few that survived the tests, and I’m proud to say I can hold my own in the world. Can you?”

Dimio processed an answer, but he didn’t like what his computer mind came up with. The answer was no. Dimio didn’t believe he could hold his own.

“Let me guess, android, your master has a huge stash of oil in his workshop. It’s probably enough to last a lifetime, but you obviously don’t see the problem in this,” Hud insinuated.

“Problem?” Dimio asked.

“He’s got you right where he wants you. You’re his slave. You can’t live without oil, and he’s got the oil. You have to do what he says to get it,” Hud continued. “It’s a good thing you met me.”

“Is it?” Dimio asked. He never thought of his father taking advantage of him, using his oil as a way to keep him tied down.

“I have oil, and I’ll let you use it for free. I have the good stuff. I doubt your master even knows it exists,” Hud offered.

Dimio blinked his round eyes.

“Just come with me and I’ll introduce you to the crew,” Hud said.

Dimio followed Hug to an old cargo container located down by docks. Inside was a group of rough looking cyborgs and androids. One android was missing an arm and his head twitched constantly.

“That’s tweak,” Hud said.

Another cyborg was a girl. Her robotic features were more distinct. Her arm was made of cheap steel and her chin and cheek were the same as Hud’s.

“My names is is is is is…” Hud hit her in the back of the head. “My name is Melody-y-y-y-y.” He hit her again.

“She was one of the cyborgs gone wrong I was telling you about,” Hud said with a smile.

Last was a small android with an intimidating look. This robot only came up to Dimio’s waist, and was painted red. It had a fabricated Mohawk, and its eyes were such a bright orange that it lit up the cargo container.

“That’s Tank,” Hud said.

Each of the rough gang had their chest cavities opened. Dimio knew that this was impolite protocol. It’s similar to a human walking around in the nude. But the gang didn’t seem to mind. Their metal hearts were open and they kept pouring a strange blue liquid inside. When Melody did this she closed her eyes and smiled.

“This is the life, Dimio,” Hud remarked. “We have no worries and no responsibilities. We don’t just fend for ourselves, we look out for one another.”

Dimio liked the sound of that. According to the dictionary these would be called friends. He didn’t have any friends just yet, only a father. He was sure that his father wouldn’t mind him meeting people and becoming better acquainted.

“What is that blue substance?” Dimio asked.

“I thought you might be interested in that! It’s our oil. This stuff is nothing like what your master was putting in you. The stuff you got from your master only let you do day to day activities.”

“This oil,” Hud pointed to the two large oil drums in the corner. One looked like it was almost depleted, “takes you places you’ve never been. It goes into your processor and makes you see the world in a whole new way. You’ll have more power and your gears will run twice as fast.”

Dimio liked the sound of that. He would be more efficient, and why wouldn’t Professor Lukonin want that? He suddenly felt as if he was running low on his daily intake.

“May I try some?” Dimio asked.

“Why do you think we’re here, brother?” Hud encouraged.

Hud dipped a tin container into the oil drum and pulled out a bubbling blue liquid. He opened Dimio’s chest cavity and his metal heart. Hud poured the blue oil in, and Dimio was instantly filled with a rush of energy. His heart pumped faster, and the oil was spread throughout his artificial veins. Dimio sat down against the wall. His computer brain fired, for the first time, true feelings. He felt sad, then happy, and finally angry. He couldn’t react to these emotions because they changed so quickly.

“The first time is the best,” Hud said. “When you have used this oil as much as we have you have to use it more often. Melody here has to use it five or six times a day. I have even seen her go eight.”

Melody patted Hud on the leg and smiled. She poured the last drops of blue oil into her heart. Then she rested against the rusted metal wall with her eyes shut.

Dimio’s new oil was already a quarter of the way gone. This would take half a day to do with the Professor’s oil, but Hud was right about the effects. Dimio had never felt so alive in his life. He couldn’t wait for the next time he refilled, and he didn’t want to return home until he did.

“I have never felt anything like that,” Dimio said. “It’s not in any of the books I have read. I will need to take note of this oil.”

“You can’t tell anyone about us,” Hud snapped. “There’s a reason this oil isn’t in your books. But we do need you to take some notes.”

Dimio moved his head to the side. He felt a new feeling from the oil, confusion. Why would Hud tell him not to spread word about the oil, yet want him to be familiar with it?

“We’re running low on supplies, and you are the most capable to get them for us,” Hud said.

“You need me to make a purchase?” Dimio asked.

“Sure, but you won’t be using credits for these supplies. We “borrow” the ingredients,” Hud said with a smile.

“Okay. I will help you, friend,” Dimio said.

“Alright, friend,” Hud replied.

Part 4

Dimio and Hud stood outside a white building with many windows. The sign out front said “Lab Corp” and behind it was a tall barbed wire fence. Hud didn’t waste time prying open a hole that had previously been cut in the fence. Coyly, he stepped back to keep from looking suspicious. It was like he had done this before. When no one was around the two stepped through the crack and onto the concrete parking lot.

“Here’s how it will go; we will have to work quickly and quietly. I’m sure that some alarms will go off when we go inside, so just act natural and follow me. We need this so our friends will survive. Don’t worry. We have done this many times,” Hud said.

Hud walked up to a side door on a shadowed side of the building. He pointed his finger to the lock. The tip of his finger opened up and a single piece of steel came out. He stuck his finger in the lock and closed his eyes. The steel transformed to take shape of the key hole. Hud smiled at Dimio, turned his finger to the side, and opened the door.

Alarms sounded. Dimio’s heart pumped faster.

“We gotta hurry,” Hud said. “The guards will be here at any moment.”

Hud broke into a nearby room and began to fill his backpack with different chemicals. Dimio stood at the door and watched for the guards. He saw two shadows coming down the adjacent hall. The red lights flashed on and off.

“Someone is coming, Hud. I believe they mean us harm,” Dimio said.

“I got everything we need. Let’s go,” Hud ran through the door.

Dimio ran behind Hud and turned around just in time to see the security guard pull out his weapon. Now that Dimio’s chest cavity had been opened like the others, his protection was gone. When the security guard fired his gun a bullet bounced off Dimio’s heart. Dimio hesitated for a moment. Now he was feeling pain, but he had to hurry. He chased after Hud and through the fence.

When they made it back to the cargo container, Dimio observed the damage. The bullet caused a small leak in his metal heart. Blue liquid dripped slowly to the floor.

“That’s all right,” Hud said. “With this new supply we can just keep filling it back up. We can’t get you a new one, but the leak isn’t too bad.”

“You can’t fix it?” Dimio asked.

“We don’t need too,” Hud said. “But it looks like you’re one of us now. Your master would be pretty angry with you if he found out about all the stuff you’ve been doing.”

Dimio agreed. He felt sad. Professor Lukonin could fix his chest cavity in no time. He wouldn’t have to worry about a slow leak. Dimio noticed that his heart was already almost empty. All the excitement must have pumped more fluid into his body, and the leak caused even more to go to waste. Dimio filled his chest cavity once more. He watched as his broken heart dripped blue liquid to the floor.

Part 5

A month had passed, and Dimio was now filling his heart more and more often. The effects of the blue liquid were not as satisfying, and the leak was getting worse. He was filling up nine times a day to ease the ache his heart, he knew there was no way he could return home now. He wondered what his father would think of him.

Dimio had performed two more raids with Hud. Each one caused his leak to increase. Now he had to remain stationary in the cargo hold with the others, so he didn’t run out of juice or get too far away from the supply when he ran out.

Dimio was leaning against the cold metal. Tweak lay against his arm and shook Dimio’s body with every electric jolt that ran through Tweak’s brain. Hud hadn’t been around all day and was looking for new recruits.

The cargo doors burst open. Hud was standing there breathing heavily. His backpack was full of chemicals. His eyes were wide with fear.

“They’re coming,” he yelled. “We gotta go!”

Melody didn’t hesitate to run. She was lost in the shadows before anyone else. Tweak and Tank followed Hud as they ran down a dark alley. Dimio tried to follow, but he wasn’t familiar with their escape plans. He quickly lost them in the shadows of the night.

Dimio ran without direction. He ran away from an invisible foe. His heart beat harder. He was now lost, and he felt fear. Dimio was weak and struggling. He didn’t want to slow down, but his gears were becoming stiff. Dimio found himself in the middle of a grassy field outside the borders of their city. Slowly he fell to his knees and life trickled away as Dimio froze into an immoveable position. He tried to look down at his chest cavity. He noticed his heart was depleted of the blue oil. The leak had taken its toll. Dimio was now nothing more than an empty creation.

When morning came Dimio found himself in the same position. Birds used his stiffened arms as a perch. Dimio’s computer mind would be the last thing to go. He had one last memory go through his mind. Dimio remembered the love of his father.

Part 6

Professor Lukonin had been searching for months. Dark circles formed under his bloodshot eyes. He hadn’t sleep, and he lost his appetite. Day would soon become night as the Professor searched for his son. He kept asking around and discovered the rounds his son made the day he left the house.

The Professor questioned the street musician. He then spoke to the fire-breather, who wasn’t much help. Finally, he tried talking to the man who ran the gambling table. The fellow was too busy with a new trick since Dimio had brought out in the open his cheating ways. The Professor knew that his son last seen in the dark side of town and this worried him.

The Professor continued searching down on the docks when he noticed the same man who was smoking the bright blue cigarette. His robotic eye focused in on the Professor. Hud puffed a ball of smoke when Professor Lukonin walked up to him.

“Excuse me,” the Professor said. “Have you seen a brass android? He would have stood about this tall. His eyes blinked on and off when he was thinking.”

“You mean Dimio,” Hud replied. “You must be his controlling master.”

“Where is he?” Professor Lukonin’s character changed.

He gripped Hud’s collar and pushed him against the wall. Professor Lukonin pulled a taser from his pocket. Hud was surprised, and his eye twitched in fear.

“He was a part of our gang, but we all had to jet,” Hud stammered. “Dimio didn’t follow. I don’t know where he went. I swear.”

“Show me where he was,” the Professor growled.

Hud led Professor Lukonin to their cargo container. The gang was all there when he opened the metal door. The Professor felt an intense rush of sadness as he saw where his son had been living this whole time.

“Which way did you run?” he asked.

Hud led the Professor to the last place he remembered seeing Dimio.

From there the Professor continued searching and calling out for his creation. He was determined not to stop until he found Dimio.

Dimio knelt in the same position; lifeless from the lack of his life giving oil he needed so desperately. When the Professor finally saw Dimio he ran to him. He was overjoyed as he checked his son’s rusted body. The Professor filled him with the good oil and waited.

Eventually, Dimio’s eyes snapped on, and his head moved slowly to the side. His eyes blinked.

“Father?” Dimio inquired.

“Yes my son. I am here,” the Professor began to tear up. “I put enough oil in you so you can follow me to the workshop.”

Dimio slowly stood and followed the Professor to his lab. Professor Lukonin worked tirelessly to replace and repair the damaged parts of Dimio’s insides. He put a new heart in his chest cavity, and he waxed and shined his brass coverings. He replaced the rusted joints and gears. Dimio was like new and filled to the brim with the best oil.

“I’m so sorry, father,” Dimio said. “I wanted to return sooner. I was afraid you would be angry and not want me back.”

“Never, son,” the Professor said. “You’re my greatest creation, my lives work. Nothing you could do would turn me away.”

“My heart was leaking father. There was no way to fix it,” Dimio said.

“Oh son, you can’t keep filling it over and over. Once you have been broken and damaged only your maker can repair you. The key to making your heart work again is that it must be replaced and made new,” the Professor smiled. “You’re a new creation now.”

Now when Dimio traveled with the Professor he stayed close to his creator. Together they questioned street magicians and ran errands. But never again would Dimio venture out without his father by his side guiding him in making decisions. Dimio found a new purpose in life. He watched his father’s example. The Professor greeted people in the streets and always took time to listen.

One day Dimio’s heart pumped a bit faster as he saw the smiling faces around him, and he noticed something he hadn’t in awhile. Dimio felt calm and peaceful. He now knew what was necessary to stay healthy and whole, and he noted this moment in the depths of his memory.

If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

Read more articles by Isaiah Basye or search for articles on the same topic or others.

Read More - Free Reprints, Main Site Articles, Most Read Articles or highly acclaimed Challenge Articles. Read Great New Release Christian Books for FREE in our Free Reads for Reviews Program. Christian writers can JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and help spread the Gospel.

The opinions expressed by authors do not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.

Hire a Christian Writer, Christian Writer Wanted, Christian Writer Needed, Christian Content Needed
Find a Christian Editor, Hire a Christian Editor, Christian Editor, Find a Christian Writer
This article has been read 191 times     < Previous | Next >

Member Comments
Member Date


Free Audio Bible
500 Plus Languages
Faith Comes By Hearing.com