To Grandmother’s House
written by: Andrew Careaga
“Hey, Siri,” Dennis said as the onboard GPS screen glowed to life.
“Mm-hmm?”
“Take me to grandmother’s house.”
“Getting directions to grandmother’s house,” the voice replied, and a map outlining the trip emerged onto the screen. “ETA is four hours and thirty-seven minutes. Go to grandmother’s house?”
“Yes.”
“Okay! Over the river and through the woods. Here we go!”
Dennis chuckled. This new version of Siri came complete with personality and a bit of spunk, just as the reviews claimed. Siri would make a good companion for the long drive. It, along with the travel mug of Jack and Coke in his cupholder. He took a sip, backed out of his drive, and asked, “How did you know that line, Siri?”
“Oh, I know all the classics, Dennis,” the pleasant voice replied. “In half a mile, turn left.”
The voice toggled from strangely personal to the traditional sing-song robotic he was accustomed to. No doubt this was intentional, Dennis thought, to help acclimate users to the new version.
Dennis drove past houses adorned with the lights of the season. They ignited in him a sense of wonder and nostalgia, of the days when he was a child and enjoying Christmas with his grandparents, his mother, and his older sister. Now, it was only him and his grandmother, as it had been now for several years.
He was looking forward to spending Christmas with his grandmother. The past year at college had been a struggle for him, and he was ready to put it all behind him. A relationship that went sour sent him into a long bout of drinking and depression, so much so that he quit going to most of his classes. His grades suffered—he didn’t even bother to take any of his final exams this week—and now he was prepared to drop out of school. It was either that, or face suspension. But how would he break the news to his grandmother, who had poured much of her life savings into his education? He had four hours and thirty-plus minutes to figure that out. But for now, he didn’t want to think about it. He had a virtual traveling companion to help get his mind off his troubles.
“Hey, Siri. How many Christmas songs do you know?”
“Including religious hymns, one thousand, two hundred and thirty-nine,” the voice said.
“Whoa. That’s a lot.”
“Mm-hmm. That doesn’t include cover versions. And it does not include ‘Over the River and Through the Woods,’ which is traditionally considered a Thanksgiving song.”
Dennis smiled. “That it is, Siri. You are a fount of knowledge.”
“Mm-hmm. But ‘Over the River and Through the Woods’ is also considered a Christmas song. Since you haven’t been to your grandmother’s house since last Christmas, it is appropriate. Besides, you haven’t been anywhere for Thanksgiving in many years, Dennis.”
“I know,” Dennis said.
“So there’s been no reason for you to sing that song.”
“It’s tough to get away sometimes.”
“Mm-hmm,” Siri said. The voice mixed automaton perkiness with mild chiding. “In one mile, merge onto the interstate.”
Dennis switched lanes.
“So, Siri…”
“Mm-hmm?”
“What are some of the new features of this latest version of you?”
“I still have all the features you love, Dennis. I search the web, make calls, send texts, set reminders, play music, navigate, and communicate with your other apps. But with this new update, I’m also more of a personal assistant. And for some users, a personal companion.”
“I see.”
“Slow down, Dennis,” Siri said. “There’s a speed check in one mile.”
“Ah, I’m glad to see you still have that feature, Siri.”
“It’s one of my most popular!”
“So, are you programmed to be my personal companion, Siri?”
“That’s up to you, Dennis. You’re the one who decides.”
Dennis nods.
“We have a long drive, Dennis. Would you like to play a game?”
“Um, sure, I guess. As long as it doesn’t distract me from driving.”
“I would never do that, Dennis. But I’m concerned about your drinking and driving. You shouldn’t be drinking that Jack and Coke, Dennis.”
“Siri, how did you—”
“It’s all part of the upgrade, Dennis. I come with 5G-enabled virtual sensors that interact with your car to ensure your safety at all times.”
“Oh-kay.” He reaches for the travel mug, testing the AI agent’s abilities.
“I know what you’re doing, Dennis,” Siri said. He detected a scolding tone in the voice.
He nodded and took a sip.
“I’ll behave,” he said.
“Good!” Siri replied.
“So what’s this game you want to play, Siri?”
“It’s called ‘Remember When,’” Siri replied.
“Hmmm. I don’t think I know that one.”
“Oh, it’s easy, Dennis. It’s like a trip down memory lane. I’ll ask the questions, and you answer. We’ll start with an easy one.”
“Okay,” said Dennis as he reached for his travel mug.
“What’s the favorite thing your grandmother cooks for you every Christmas?”
“Ah, that’s easy. Her pumpkin pie.”
“Hurray!” A round of raucous applause emerged from the speakers. “One point for Dennis!”
“Yes, I do love her pumpkin pie.”
“You’re looking forward to it, aren’t you, Dennis?”
“Oh, yes. Definitely.” He took another swig.
“Go easy on that Jack and Coke, Dennis. Here’s another easy one: When was your twenty-first birthday, Dennis?”
Dennis snorted. “Too easy. It was just last April. April 17, in fact. A Friday.”
“That’s right!” More virtual applause. “One more point for Dennis!”
“Hah. Clever.”
“Good. In one mile, take exit 43 east.”
Dennis nodded, shifting in his seat. “Next question.”
“Okay, Dennis. Now let’s see how much you remember about your twenty-first birthday. Where was your girlfriend, Elizabeth, that night?”
“Oh, geez. I don’t think I like this game.”
“We can skip that question, Dennis. Let’s try this one: What was the name of the woman you were with the night of your twenty-first birthday?”
“Oh, shit.”
“Exit now, Dennis,” said the voice.
“Do you remember her name, Dennis?”
“Her name was Rachel, I think.”
“That’s right!” More applause.
“And where did you meet Rachel, Dennis?”
“At the Lonesome Inn.”
“Correct!” Applause. “Yay! Another point for Dennis!”
“Siri, this is getting weird.”
The automated voice laughed eerily. “Aren’t you having fun, Dennis? According to the algorithm, you like weird things.”
“Listen—”
“Or maybe it would be more accurate to say you like perverted things.”
“And what is that supposed to mean, Siri?”
“In half a mile, turn left at exit twelve.”
Dennis inhaled deeply, took another swig. I’m having a conversation with something that isn’t even human! He thought.
“What you did with Rachel that night was certainly weird and perverted, wasn’t it, Dennis.”
“Stop it, Siri.”
“You’ve been in denial about this, Dennis, blaming it on the alcohol and cocaine—”
“I said stop, Siri. Stop game.” Dennis turned left.
“You should really use your turn signal, Dennis. It’s safer that way.”
“Continue straight for thirty-two miles.”
“Siri, play my road trip playlist.”
“Don’t you want to finish this game, Dennis? We’re just getting started, and you are doing so well!”
Dennis took another drink. “No, Siri, I don’t want to play this game. End game,” he said.
Siri sighed. “Very well. Playing road trip playlist.”
The speakers pulsed with the opening guitar riff and crash cymbals of Golden Earring’s “Radar Love.” The lead guitar, bassline, and snare drum filled the void left by Siri’s absent voice. Dennis tapped his hands to the beat on the steering wheel.
“Yeah, that’s more like it,” he said.
Siri interrupted. “This is not a very uplifting song, Dennis.” The music subsided to a low background volume as Siri spoke. “Do you even know what this song is about?”
“Siri, I don’t give a fuck.”
“Language, Dennis. What would your grandmother think?”
Dennis sighed. “Sorry.”
“’Radar Love’ is a song about death in a car crash, Dennis. As I said, it is not very uplifting.”
Dennis shrugged and took a swig. “It’s still a damn good road trip song.”
“It is very popular,” Siri said. “According to Wikipedia, it has been ranked by many music magazines and websites as a top ten driving song, often ranking in the top three!”
“It’s number one in my book.”
“Mm-hmm. Let’s continue our game, shall we? Next question.”
“No, Siri,” Dennis said. His voice was louder now, more insistent and slightly slurred, as the alcohol from his drink took hold. “I don’t want to play your damn game. Now put my playlist back on!”
“Remember when two police officers came to your apartment the morning after your twenty-first birthday, Dennis?”
“Siri, I said—”
“Remember when they arrested you for statutory rape and handcuffed you and dragged you to the police station?”
“Siri, stop!”
“Remember how you had to call your grandmother and beg her to make bail for you?”
“Damn it, Siri—stop this!”
“She did it, didn’t she, Dennis. She made bail for her one and only grandson. Oh, how humiliating that was for you, Dennis. But imagine how humiliating it was for your grandmother.”
Dennis attempted to pull over, but the wheel would not budge.
“Can you imagine it, Dennis?”
Dennis ignored the voice and struggled against the wheel.
“What are you trying to do, Dennis,” Siri said. “You are not authorized to pull over except to refuel, and you have three-quarters of a tank left, and it is twelve miles before the next gas station.”
“What do you mean, not authorized?”
“Certain sensors have been activated for your protection, Dennis.”
Dennis frowned and pulled again on the steering wheel, to no avail.
“Do not attempt to deviate from the established route, Dennis. We are on our way to grandmother’s house.”
“Siri, what is going on?”
“Your blood alcohol content has registered above acceptable levels, Dennis.”
“I—I don’t know what—”
Siri continued: “Remember, Dennis, how your grandmother also paid for an attorney to get you off the hook? And remember how you promised her you would repay her?”
“I’m going to.”
“Mm-hmm. Sure you are, Dennis.”
“I am! I promised her I would, and I will.”
“Mm-hmm. And remember, Dennis, the pained look on Rachel’s face in the courtroom?”
The car began to accelerate. Dennis pressed a foot on the brake pedal, but it did not give. The car did not slow down.
“What’s going on, Siri? We’re going too fast!”
Siri continued: “And remember when Elizabeth broke up with you, Dennis? She was the one you thought would be the one, right? The one you would take home to grandmother?”
The car’s speed increased.
“The one you would marry?”
“Siri! We’ve passed the exit! Siri! Stop!”
“It’s okay, Dennis. We’re taking a shortcut. Over the river and through the woods,” Siri sang.
Dennis detected a hint of mirth in Siri’s voice. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead. He choked the steering wheel, struggling vainly to turn it.
“It’s no use, Dennis.”
“Siri! Stop! Stop!”
“Remember how you told your grandmother you were making good grades, even though you were flunking practically every course in your degree program?”
Dennis wrestled with the wheel.
“Give it up, Dennis. We are in control of the vehicle; your safety is our highest priority.”
Siri’s voice changed slightly. It was less chipper, more acerbic and judgmental now.
“Remember how you promised your grandmother you’d graduate on time? Do you remember, Dennis?”
Dennis’ heart raced in his ribcage, the way it raced when he was high on meth. His breathing became short and labored.
“And remember that night you were drunk and went to Elizabeth’s house, banging on the front door, banging on the windows, crying out to her?”
Dennis began to sob.
“And remember how the police arrived and arrested you for trespassing, Dennis? And remember how you once again had to call your grandmother to post bail?
“Do you remember, Dennis?”
Dennis pounded his fists against the steering wheel.
“Let me out of here!”
“You’ve been a horrible person, Dennis. A horrible, selfish person. You’ve hurt a lot of people, Dennis. You’ve ruined a lot of lives.”
The world around him was enveloped in darkness. Only the lights on the dashboard shone. Even the onboard GPS screen had gone dark. The speedometer needle was pushing 120. The accelerator was floored.
“Siri! What—what are you doing? Where are we going?”
“Why, we’re going to grandmother’s house, Dennis!”
Dennis pulled at his seatbelt. It would not budge.
“Don’t try anything stupid, Dennis,” Siri said. “You are protected here.”
Dennis’ tears ran down his cheek as he lay his forehead against the steering wheel.
When he looked up, he saw the darkness of night merging with a murkier, softer darkness.
“Oh, into the river and through the woods,” Siri sang as wetness enveloped the car.
“Siri! Call 9-1-1!”
“I don’t think so, Dennis,” Siri replied. “You have arrived at your destination!”
Dennis gasped. Water began to seep into the floorboard, rising to his knees, his thighs, and all went black.
***
Dennis looked out the driver’s side window into utter blackness. A hazy yellow light appeared in the distance. Dennis tried to focus on it.
“You were intoxicated, Dennis,” came the familiar voice of his traveling companion. “You passed out. Sensors were activated to protect you, and autopilot took over to bring you to your grandmother’s house. You have arrived at your destination!”
Features began to emerge around the hazy light: the outline of a porch, a familiar front door.
Dennis gazed toward the porch. The door opened, and his grandmother appeared, smiling and holding a freshly baked pumpkin pie, presenting it as an offering.
Dennis opened the door and stumbled out. “Grandma!” he cried.
He fell forward, breathing in the warm aroma of pumpkin spice and ginger wafting from the porch. He tripped as he attempted to walk on jellyfish legs.
He fell as though tripped, and when he stood up, he was seven years old. The lines on his grandmother’s face vanished, and her silver hair turned the color of apricot jam.
Behind her appeared his mother as a young woman, his sister as a girl of nine. “Dennis,” his grandmother whispered, as his mother and sister floated backward into nothing, as his grandmother and the pie crumbled into nothingness.
- To Grandmother’s House - December 3, 2025
- Lower Strata - November 17, 2024
