The Roomba

FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE

ROOMBA 600i

Details:

Condition -Used like new

Description:

Slightly used, comes with all accessories and two chargers. Price negotiable. Need gone ASAP.

****

Christine kicked off her heels as soon as she walked through the door. The French baguette peeking out of the brown paper bag in her hands wobbled precariously as Sir Lancelot wove his way beneath her feet while she attempted to place the groceries on the bench.

Lancelot was a Persian crossed with a rag-doll, and the combination equated to hair—lots of it. Christine scanned her critical eye over the apartment, clumps of fur wafted everywhere. She loved little Lancie immensely, but she didn’t love his hair. She sighed as she opened the hall cupboard to get out her cumbersome Hoover, a relic that had belonged to her mother, and had been passed down to her. It was time for its second workout of the day, and she just hoped the ancient beast was up for the task.

The high-pitched groan was ominous, as was the smell of electrical burning that began moments after she had switched the machine on. Christine immediately disconnected the power and resigned herself to her fate. It was time to purchase a new vacuum. Unfortunately, her finances were still limited and so she opened her phone to browse Facebook marketplace. Surely she would find a deal there. It wasn’t as if she was fussy. Anything that would work would be better than trying to sweep up the unsweepable.

The price caught her eye first, then the picture. A Roomba, a robot vacuum. Imagine coming home each day to a house that was freshly cleaned, no cat hair, no dust. The more she thought about it, the more Christine became convinced that she could not possibly live one more day without the services of her own personal Roomba robot.

A quick series of messages back and forth, and soon Christine found herself the proud new owner of a secondhand robot vacuum.

“Be careful with the settings, it’s a bit of a beast, if you’re not keeping an eye on it,” the previous owner had advised her. She’d smiled and nodded, figuring that the internet would have all the instruction manuals and safety precautions listed somewhere.

Once she plugged in the charging dock, Christine googled the instructions and set the operating time to run twice a day while she was at work.

With a happy sigh, she fed Lancie his dinner, reheated leftovers for herself and went to bed.

***

She was jolted awake at four in the morning by a soft mechanical whirring, and solid, repeated thumps that shook her bed. Lancie, startled awake from his sleeping position at the foot of her bed, hissed violently as he landed on her chest, claws extended. It took her a bleary moment to connect the dots, but she finally realised she’d set the timer incorrectly, setting the machine to work at 4am instead of 4pm. It seemed to be stuck trying to vacuum under her bed, catching itself repeatedly on the leg and unable to navigate its way out of the situation. The bright lights, like little eyes, glinted with frustration, which echoed her own emotional state. It really was way too early for her to remember the settings, so she stumbled out of bed as she tried to whack the off button on the machine. It finally powered down with a petulant wheeze, the lights blinking off sadly. Placating Lancie took much longer, as his fur was literally on end, but after much stroking and coaxing, the cat settled back at the foot of the bed, curled up in a cat ball and purred himself to sleep.

The following morning, after feeding Lancie his breakfast, Christine studied the online manual closely as she absently munched on toast and sipped her coffee. Carefully following the instructions, she set the timer, double checking the AM/PM setting. From his sunny position on the windowsill, Lancie hissed and arched his back. A familiar whirring caught her attention and a soft bumping nudged her toes. When she looked beneath the table, the Roomba was carefully vacuuming the crumbs she had spilled.

“Odd,” she muttered. “I haven’t turned you on yet. Must be a saved setting from the previous owner.” She didn’t have time to look for the ‘clear all settings’ section of the manual, but resolved to look into it after work.

***

Once again Christine was rudely awoken at 4am by the repeated thumping of the machine and the yowling hiss of the cat as Lancie landed claws first on her chest.

“For the love of…!” she muttered, tossing her blanket aside to deal with the rogue machine. This time, the off button seemed to stick, and she was unable to power it down. “Well, if you won’t switch off, you may as well do your job out here!” Christine shoved the machine into the living room and firmly closed her bedroom door. Lancie would be alright for a couple of hours. She’d let him out for a kitty litter break as soon as the sun was up.

The morning brought chaos. Christine’s living room was spotlessly clean, immaculate even, but she couldn’t find her shoes. She usually kicked them off by the front door, but they were nowhere to be seen. She rummaged under the sofa and coffee tables, just in case she had kicked them off in the living room, and then crawled into the dust bunnies under her bed, on the off chance they were there, but to no avail. Finally, she had to do a quick change of outfit so that she could wear the more casual loafers in the back of her wardrobe and rushed out of the door, late for work.

When she came home, Christine kicked off her shoes near the door as she juggled the bags of groceries she’d purchased after work. The light on the Roomba’s dock was flashing, indicating that the dust bin needed emptying, so she dumped the heavier bags on the floor to attend to the task. When she lifted the lid, a mystery was solved. There, in shreds, were her lovely leather, high-healed shoes. They’d obviously been caught by the Roomba over night and had become a casualty of the cleaning machine. “At least there’s a reasonable explanation,” she sighed as she took the small dustbin to empty into the outside bin, happy that she wasn’t losing her mind, but not happy about the cost of replacing her favourite shoes.

When she returned, she cried out in alarm. The Roomba was stuck on the paper shopping bag and its whirring brushes had opened a hole in the washing powder box. Fine white ponder was flying everywhere.

“Oh, for the love of…!” she cried in exasperation as she extracted the paper bag from the maw of the machine. She set it to clean up the white laundry powder while she packed the rest of the groceries away. When she turned from the pantry after putting the last item on the shelf, she nearly tripped over the Roomba that had silently moved its cleaning path right behind her, its lights blinking up at her like two besotted eyes. With a gasp, she stopped herself from falling just in time by grabbing the fridge door with one hand and banging her other forearm hard on the kitchen bench. She cried out in pain, and she wrenched the freezer open to get an ice pack. Pressing the ice to her smarting injury, she trudged into the living room to rest and assess the damage. Hopefully, she hadn’t broken anything. The skin was still intact, but she’d have a huge bruise tomorrow, no doubt.

Lancie curled up next to her and purred as she scratched his head with one hand. She’d just relaxed enough for the shock and pain to wear off when the cat hissed and leapt from the couch. A soft whirring approached, and the Roomba trundled in, bumping gently into Christine’s feet.

“Goodness, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” she told the machine as she stood up to make herself some dinner and pour Lancie some Kitty kibble into his food bowl.

Christine shut her bedroom door that evening, determined to get a full night sleep and not be woken by a marauding machine at an ungodly hour. She had to lock Lancie out, much to his disgust, as she didn’t want him to lose access to his litter tray and have an accident in her bedroom. Her sleep was undisturbed, and she woke refreshed and ready to begin the day.

In the kitchen, she noticed that Lancie had not finished his dinner last night. The bowl was still full of kibble.

“Lancie, here Kitty, Kitty,” she called as she opened a can of cat food. He was not around, sulking, most likely because she didn’t let him sleep on her bed. “I’ll leave it here for you, then.” She emptied the old kibble and replaced it with some tuna.

As Christine ate her toast, she felt the whirring of little brushes bumping into her toes, so she lifted her feet to allow the Roomba to pass under the table on its morning cleanup rotation. She’d long since given up the idea of setting the machine to work when she was not home. It seemed to have a mind of its own and cleaned at all sorts of random times during the day.

She didn’t think much of the little trail of red on her foot when she put her loafers on, just brushed the smudge away.

“Bye Lancie,” she called as she left for work. The cat was still sulking. Perhaps he’d be more cuddly when she got home.

When she returned, her apartment smelt like rotting fish and she gagged as she opened the door. The cat food was still sitting in the bowl uneaten and flies were buzzing around the dish, along with a trail of ants. Quickly, Christine disposed of the food.

“Lancie?” she crooned gently and then again, more urgently. Perhaps the cat was unwell. The Roomba’s light indicated a full dust bin and Christine noticed the trail of ants marching up the side. She opened the lid and screamed. Blood and fur and pulverised viscera filled the bin. She ran to the bathroom and heaved, retching up the contents of her stomach as tears ran down her face.

From behind her there was a whirring sound, and the Roomba looked at her with its bright lights unblinking.

****

FACEBOOK MARKETPLACE

ROOMBA 600i

Details:

Condition -Used like new

Description:

Slightly used, comes with all accessories and two chargers. Price negotiable. Need gone ASAP.