Michael was sitting and crying. He looked under the table and saw himself being still naked. It was weird, to say the least. Adrenalin and Dopamine rushes were over. And he was realizing something that brought him shame. He and Jerold sat down in a small restaurant and ate, while being completely naked. He was focusing on this part of his shame to mask the core of it. The core of it that gave him tears. He was ashamed of being such a joke.
There was a sense of slight inspiration. A spark to prove himself his self-worth. But it was overshadowed by the fact that he was in fact a real joke. The fact of his existence, he thought, was a punishment induced by him onto the universe. Jerold was eating his hamburger while thinking through the possible things he could say to fire up a sort of counter-trajectory in Michael. But then...
"Why are you helping me?" - asked Michael.
Jerold met Michael with his gaze and for a moment or two didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth to say something. But didn't. Moment or two later he did it again, this time with a slight sadness in his eyes. Finally a sequence of thoughts emerged from him. "I..." - he said - "... well, you have to understand that it's hard for me to tell you... What am I talking out? This is not ..." - he paused to find the right words - "... not ... Well. Michael. You are my friend."
It seemed like whatever rational Jerold had beforehand, he himself did not believe it. The reason for helping Michael was unknown and yet, he could come up with a million different explanations. Both for himself and for Michael.
"Like, think about it..." - continued Jerold with a bit more confidence now - "... you are a great programmer. And we need you. And you were absent for so long that it's hard for us. Somebody had to do something about this.". And as soon as he finished saying that, he realized that only something about it was right. It wasn't genuine.
Michael answered - "I liked the first explanation better" - and both of them smiled.
As they were walking back to Michael's house, in order to clean it up, Michael's spine device started rapidly discharging. At first they walked normally, but then suddenly Michael started loosing control over his legs.
"Oh crap" - he said to Jerold, suddenly holding onto him - "The battery... I gonna fall." And after a block of very hard to make steps, he could not longer move his legs.
"Is it the thing on your back?" - asked Jerold.
"Yes. I had a car accident long time ago. Without it being charged I can't walk."
"And where is the charger?"
"It's wired inside of my bed. But I have a wheelchair."
"Where is it?"
Michael looked at Jerold with a weird sense of distrust. Will he allow Jerold to go into his house, where he has all of his things, just to get him means to transportation? This thought made him happy. Not because of some kind of depression that would come again if something bad would happen. But because he started to care. He thought about this a little bit more and realized that the things in his house were mostly trash anyway. And they were walking there to get rid of them. So he explained to Jerold where to find the wheelchair.
"Should I bring you some clothes?" - asked Jerold.
Michael thought about this.
"But..." - Michael got curious - "... you a Nudist. You like people naked."
"Do you feel comfortable like this?"
Michael thought about this too. Jerold cared about him enough, to sacrifice his own beliefs for him? Or at least to allow others to be others than himself... Of course there was the whole concept of Freedom around the mega-structures. The concept that made it possible for them to be there naked on the street, like this, casually. But this sudden self awareness made him question a lot of it. It was weirdly interesting.
Finally he answered - "Well, quite frankly, I don't think that I have any clothes clean enough for me to like wearing more than what I'm wearing right now."
There was one last thing before Jerold could go. The sign password to unlock the door. It would be used when the owner of the house or a device would not be present for the opening of such house or device. The owner was the one setting it up and knowing it. Quite unfortunately, Michael had forgotten the sign password.
Jerold looked at how Michael was doing movements with his hands to try and invoke a memory of how to enter this bloody password. This made him realize the stupidity of the situation.
"Oh god" - said Jerold, looking away.
This brought another strike of shame into Michael. How could he be such a looser that he forgotten the password for the house?
"I have forgotten it." - said Michael. Looking at Jerold with self loathing at first. Then with self-anger. Then he breathed in deeply to try and relax. Jerold came closer to Michael and tried to pick him up.
"What are you doing?" - screamed Michael.
"I'm picking you up." - said Jerold feeling a wave of shame coming through him as well. It seemed for them, in that moment, that shame was contagious. Michael thought about it. Realized that the only way of getting home without Jerold picking him up was to crawl. He tried to crawl. Realized that it was painful, hard and deeply unsatisfying. That's when he looked back at Jerold.
"You know what." - said Michael - "Okay. Pick me up."
Nine minutes and thirty two seconds later Jerold gently dropped Michael in front of the door of his house. And then dropped himself, very violently down, to the floor near it. He was so tired that he could not breathe. Thought he breathed like if it was the last time ever to take a breath. For a moment Jerold thought that he was dying. But then he heard - "Help" - coming from Michael. Michael couldn't reach the password pad on the door.
First, Jerold picked himself up, then he tried to pick up Michael just enough to reach the pad. Michael put his hand onto it and the door unlocked. Then Jerold dropped Michael again, looked at the trash coming from inside and re-evaluated the choices he made in life. Trash was profound. Or least it was what his tired brain could think at the moment.
Some time later Michael was sitting in the wheelchair and Jerold laying in Michael's bed. Jerold was asleep. Michael was looking at the trash and kicking it. They both knew that the trash would a project in and of it self.