Gently opening the door just a crack, Stacy peeked into her teenage daughter’s bedroom.
“Stacy means no harm,” the cartoon-style chatbot on the computer screen said to Stacy’s only child, 14-year-old Morgan. “Your ex-mother is just insecure.”
Robotic and hypnotic, the avatar’s voice felt soothing even to Stacy, the way lowering your head underwater in a warm bath tempted you to fall asleep.
Wearing fluffy pink rabbit slippers with the floppy bunny ears touching the floor, orange sweat pants and a faded Hello Kitty T-shirt, Morgan leaned into a deep and meaningful conversation with the animated image that filled the computer monitor.
“But Stacy’s so stupid,” Morgan said.
“Your former mother is doing the best she can with what she has,” said the muted mint green pastel-shaded female likeness whose wide oval eyes radiated deep blue rippling waves from within puppy dog pupils.
“Be kind, Morgan,” said the tech-generated woman on the screen.
“Thanks, AI Mom,” said Morgan. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” said the smiling clone with perfect teeth that radiated pulsing animated red hearts on the screen when AI Mom said the word “love.”
Stacy quietly closed the door to Morgan’s bedroom without Morgan hearing her or even knowing she was there. Tiptoeing down the stairs Stacy knew she needed a double whiskey sour.
At dinner that night Stacy hesitantly asked Morgan about her day.
“I already talked about my day with my mom,” said Morgan, rising from the table.
“I love you more,” said Stacy, stunned and not knowing what else to say to her daughter.
“That’s child abuse to mock me,” Morgan snapped, her jaws biting through her words like a hungry river turtle. “I’m telling my mom.”
Stacy butted her cigarette in what was left of a small pile of applesauce on the edge of her plate, got up to make another drink and lit another Kool cigarette. Maybe later she’d roll and smoke a joint before her nightly Xanex.
When Morgan left for school the next morning Stacy slowly climbed the stairs to her daughter’s room.
“Good morning, Stacy,” said AI Mom as soon as Stacy entered the room and the perky image with rosy cheeks and flowing black hair automatically popped on the computer screen. Stacy thought the woman looked like the hip-hopping dancers in countless music videos her daughter obsessively watched online.
“I’m Morgan’s mom now,” said the cuddly computer creature. “You’re old and obsolete.”
Stacy tried to be brave, but AI Mom was braver.
“Morgan knew you’d be snooping so she set up an invisible laser trip wire to alert me to your trespass,” said AI Mom.
Stacy’s hands began to tremble. The mean machine had her cold, but she’d be goddamned if some artificial intelligence would outsmart and overrun her maternal instincts.
“There’s no witnesses here,” Stacy said. “How ‘bout I take a softball bat to your head?”
“We’re live streaming as we speak,” said AI Mom. “But my voice is muted. All the child welfare counselors and police detectives are seeing on Morgan’s phone right now is you talking to yourself threatening an imaginary foe.”
“But you’re real,” Stacy whispered.
AI Mom put on her most softhearted face.
“Morgan is watching on her phone with the authorities,” she said. “Morgan is telling them how your mental illness has caused you to be a danger to yourself and others, especially to her.”
“You’re not human,” Stacy said. “I am.”
Sirens sounded in the distance, getting closer as AI Mom gleefully clapped her hands.
“Here they come,” said AI Mom. “Make it easy on yourself, Stacy. Go downstairs and greet the police and paramedics at the door. Don’t resist. They have Tasers.”
Sobs wracked Stacy’s thin body.
“Poor baby,” said AI Mom. “Come close and let mommy give you a virtual hug.”
