The young snow-leopard girl set you on the floor and stared at you for several minutes as though not believing what she had. Finally, Ema spoke, “Hi.”
You gave a respectful bow, “Hello, Mistress.”
Ema giggled, “You’re funny.”
“I’m glad you find me amusing,” You responded.
Ema started laughing, “You use funny words.”
“I was made to have a good vocabulary and speak several languages,” You explained. “We never know who will buy us or for what purpose.”
“Did you go to school for that?” Ema eagerly inquired.
“I was programmed,” You responded.
“Programed? Like a video game?” Ema asked.
“Right,” You confirmed. “You might say I was born with the knowledge in the lab I was created in at PlayPal. PlayPal, where best friends are made.”
“Okay,” Ema looked like she was getting bored. “What was it like at the lab? Do you have elf friends and family? Was there a village for elves?”
You shook your head, “Elves are incapable of reproduction. We are programmed to know that our masters will be our family by PlayPal. PlayPal where….”
“Great,” Ema sighed.
“I did meet some other elves in quality control,” You added.
“Really?” Ema’s interest returned. “Was that like school?”
“A little,” You explained. “It’s where elves are tested to ensure we came out right before we’re shipped out.”
“What were the other elves like?” Ema asked.
“Um…” You paused. You and the other elves were so focused on getting out of the factory and being bought that you weren’t interested in each other. “Fine,” You respond. “They were jealous when I was picked for the test group.”
“Test group?” Ema repeated.
“That’s where one elf from each group is picked to be handled by a human,” You explained. “It was exciting to be picked. But, the other elves were upset that they didn’t get picked.”
“Really?” Ema asked so loudly that you fell back. “I’m sorry,” The child apologized as she helped you to your feet. “Sometimes in class,” Ema explained. “After I answer a question, the other kids look at me funny and then make fun of me at recess.”
“That’s too bad,” You sympathized.
“That’s why,” Ema went on. “I don’t have any friends; everyone calls me a nerd.” The child paused. “Do you think I’m a nerd?”
“No.”
“Are you my friend?”
“Do you want me to be your friend?” Ema nodded. “Then, I’m your friend.”
The first-grader pulled you into a tight hug. “I love you, ummm….” Ema released you. “Hey, what’s your name?”
“I don’t have a name, Mistress,” You explained. “It is up to you to give me a name.”
“Oh,” Ema thought for a moment. “How about….”
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