A Mystery Death in Montreal

It wasn’t the coldest day of the month, yet it was cold enough for birds to stop singing, flowers to hide from blossoming, and even the sun not to shine. Instead of rising early like on summer days, the sun rose over the Mont Royal mountain peak past seven thirty. Montreal was still gloomy and sleepy. The otherwise bustling Mont Royal street was empty of people and vehicles, probably since it was Sunday. But our hero was up and ready, all set to start his work. As a matter of fact, he never really slept. He was amazed and also disappointed that humans, birds, and even the silly old cat slept half the day. Sleep was a concept he could not grasp. “Sleep is for the lazy ones,” was his thought. He was fondly called Bajgo, resembling his clan.

Bajgo was one of the smartest machines that humans invented in this last decade as an automated robot vacuum cleaner. He knew not only how to clean but also how to evade obstacles, find his path, and clean an entire floor without recharging. Best of all, he knew how to go back home. Once the job was done, Bajgo would slowly find his way to the charging port — his resting home. He could be programmed to suit the floor.

Machines such as Bajgo were such a help for many who either did not have time to clean or could not do so due to physical reasons. He never complained, rejected an assignment, asked for overtime, or did a half-baked job. He always came out on top in cleaning duties. No maid or domestic worker could ever challenge this smart guy. Many people who did part-time cleaning or even some full-timers went bankrupt due to Bajgo’s unique talents. Who can blame him?

You see, the moment you invite an outsider to work, you need to have a watchful eye on your belongings. People get tempted all the time, and valuables left unguarded could make these people’s willpower so weak that they might decide to change the venue from a cupboard to their own pocket. Bajgo, on the other hand, had no such fallacy, craving, or desire. He never had an issue of loyalty, a second thought, or greed. He did not need religious guidance, daily prayers, or motivational speakers to do that. He was programmed that way. See the irony here. Humans who are dishonest could create machines with strict honesty.

Now, for Bajgo there were no huge challenges. Of course, he needed a charge after work. Even humans need that, don’t they, although they ignore it? Other than that, Bajgo hated the stupid cat who had no brains to understand Bajgo’s genius. For the cat, Bajgo was just another toy. Well, an annoying one to be precise, and a bit of a complicated one who knew how to run away when pounced upon. That gave more incentive for the cat since challenging prey is worth fighting for. Other than that very complex behavior, Bajgo was just another item with no warmth, unlike the owner for the cat.

Although the cat was an eternal annoyance, Bajgo was relieved that his owner Rosa opted for a cat and became a cat mom instead of a kid’s. There was a reason for that thought. At the shop where Rosa took him for occasional oil massages once every three months, he got to talk to fellow robot vacuum cleaners. Some were from his own clan, and some were from a distant eastern empire known as China, where most machines are given birth to by humans. Although they looked very similar, Bajgo’s clan preferred to maintain a distance from them. Even machines nowadays had a sense of discrimination, unfortunately. Who can blame them when their designers are born racist?

Now the reason for the preference for a cat instead of  kids! The kids apparently were terrible little monsters who would show no mercy to these round, sleek, and shiny robot vacuum cleaners. Irrespective of their age, they would chase them, press their little buttons so hard, trash them, and knock them with toy cars of terrible shapes. There was an incident where a very naughty kid used one cleaner as a weighing scale to sit on. The stories were all nightmarish. After every oil massage day, Bajgo would wake up screaming at the sight of a kid trying to trample him. So he was pleased that the old cat had no such devious plan.

As usual on Sunday, Rosa the landlord woke up with a slight hangover. The party the previous night was heavy, and the floor looked messy. Lucky for her, she had one friend who never had weekend hangovers.

“Off you go, Bajgo. Get them all.”

Rosa switched on Bajgo, set some music, and went for a hot shower. Bajgo knew his territory well enough and did not let anything rest in peace. Be it a breadcrumb, a tiny dust particle, fallen candies, bits of paper — well, he swallowed it all.

Bajgo loved his owner, who always respected, admired, and even recommended buying his cousins. When Bajgo heard the command, he was ready to gulp anything that stood in his way. Little by little, his mission started. One tile after another, one inch after another, he went on cleaning, giving no chance for a single dust particle to survive. This was not just another offensive but a clear scorched-earth mission, just like the humans usually executed.

The music was somber, and Bajgo liked his owner’s choices. It wasn’t too loud, and it wasn’t too mild. Just the way he liked it. The music helped him concentrate, although he did not really need that. In fifteen minutes, half the floor was cleaned as if the cat had licked it with its tongue. It was shiny. Did Bajgo need a coffee break or to call his girlfriend? Of course not. He went on.

As he approached the far corner, he came across a shoe. Now shoes were his arch enemies on this battlefield. They always brought dust home. Sometimes even the stinkiest remains from dogs. Whether Rosa went to the office, for a walk, or to the supermarket, she always used one shoe or another. It didn’t matter which model — they always, always brought dust. If Bajgo were the ruler of the planet, he would have made it illegal to wear shoes. After all, they were the core of all household issues.

Bajgo could not really understand how humans would invent smart machines like him yet fail to have shoes that do not attract dust. Maybe “it was all industrial espionage,” he thought. “If the shoe does not bring dust, I would have no purpose.” Maybe the shoe industry was funded by the vacuum cleaner industry. Who knows, maybe they were the same company split for tax evasions. Bajgo’s mind was like a whirlpool.

None of those logics could ease his anger and hatred toward shoes. He went on a full-scale offensive against the shoe. He suddenly thought of punishing it and started to swallow the shoelace.

Suddenly Bajgo felt as if he was experiencing a blackout. Everything around him started to disappear, and he could not breathe. He tried to cry for help. No words could come out of his mouth. The lace had completely blocked his airways.

And Bajgo lost consciousness.

The music went on, but there was no sound of Bajgo’s humming.

Rosa came out of the shower, and her eyes went blank seeing what had happened.

Poor Bajgo, who tried to swallow his nemesis, had succumbed to death by strangling himself with the laces of his nemesis.

“The smartest machine was sadly defeated by a dirty, old, and stupid shoelace,” Rosa thought.