A Robotic Heart

It was the same as it was every night. There I was in the same dark room, and there were my friends, Lindbergh, Vicki, Waldo and all the others, gathered around the same confounded table they were in every dream, performing the same doomed experiment. As I watched them, I noticed, as I always did, that something didn't look right. The chemicals they were mixing were too volatile, and anyone with any training in chemistry could tell that there was a great risk of a dangerous reaction. The people gathered around the table however, had no training. As I looked on with apprehension, I saw Waldo pick up a beaker of what I could tell to be myamila gerisolite, a highly explosive agent even under the best of circumstances, and move to pour it into the compound. Knowing that I couldn't let this happen, I tried frantically to get the attention of one of them. Finally, my calling and arm-waving got the attention of Vicki, who smiled and waved me over. I ran over, in the hopes that I could stop this experiment before it went too far. It was too late. The chemical had been poured; the damage had been done. I heard a ground-shaking explosion, and saw a large cloud of smoke. I felt myself being thrown backwards by the blast, but I knew I was the only one. I couldn't see them, but I knew the others had been caught up in the explosion. Suddenly, I felt myself falling rapidly...

~~~

... and immediately found myself screaming as I fell out of bed.

As soon as my body hit the floor, I sat up and breathed heavily, trying to calm myself down.

I’d experienced that dream--no, nightmare--for weeks upon end now and didn’t know how to prevent it. At first I thought it would pass, but now...

“Digit?”

Looking up, I saw my friend and roommate standing at the doorway of my room in his pajamas, tiredly rubbing his eyes. “What’re you doing screaming in the middle of the night?” he drowsily asked me.

Apparently, my scream of fright had awoken him from his slumber. Not knowing how to answer him, I simply remained silent.

“Did you have a bad dream or something?”

I could not believe how correct Lindbergh was... “... well, yes,” I replied, “but… you see… I’ve been having this.. dream for...”

“I know, nights now,” my kiwi friend finished, moving to kneel beside me on the floor. “I’ve been hearing that same scream for lots of nights in lots of weeks now. What’s going on with you?”

I’ve been asking myself the same question ever since I first had that nightmare. The friends, the dark room, the chemicals, the explosion... it could possibly mean only one thing... “Lindbergh, I think my past is coming back to haunt me...”

Lindbergh looked me over. “... your past? ... like, when you became--”

“Yes, that.” Lindbergh was the only one other than myself that knew about what happened to me… how I became the way I am today...

But he, ever the optimist, tried his best to reassure me that things were okay. “Aw, don’t get yourself worried about this stuff, Digit. Maybe you did something all those nights to make you have that dream... like some of your wires got crossed again.” He paused. "... do you want me to look?”

“... no,” I said after a period of silence, crawling back up to my bed. “I think I can make it...”

He looked sort of sad after I said that. “Well, okay,” he said, then he returned to a semi-chipper voice. “I hope you get to feeling better... Good night, Digit.”

“Good night, Lindbergh.” Then he closed the door and went back to his room to sleep again.

Lindbergh has been one of my oldest and dearest friends. He’s been with me ever since the accident and has never left me since. We were so close that we even moved in together after I was released from the hospital.

Of course, that’s not to say that I don’t have other friends. There’re the members of Solid Foam, a band that I was in back in the Eighties. I played keyboard, Clifford played bass, Beard was our guitarist, Flash on saxophone (although he could also play the fiddle), and his girlfriend Francine was our drummer. We were close as well, and it seemed as if we knew what was going on with each other, especially during that one period of time...

Then there was Waldo C. Graphic, the self-proclaimed “spirit of 3-D”. He was a playful computer graphic who always had fun on the job. I activated him for use on the show and the two of us immediately became fast friends. Of course, he thought I was his mother at first, but that’s a different story.

So many other names came to my mind. There was Kermit the Frog, my boss and friend. Gonzo was also there, that delightful little alien who loved dangerous stunts and poultry. So was Leon, Kermit’s chameleon cousin and con artist.

And then there was that one name that was so dear to my heart. The very mention of it sent a vision of happiness and loveliness to my mind. She was so beautiful and magnificent...

At that moment, my hands felt over just a few of the items that I had taken out during my moments of solitude. A high school diploma... a photo album... a college degree... a paper heart... All of them brought back so many memories...

I knew that I couldn’t go back to sleep. My mind was wide awake and didn’t want to shut down for the rest of the night. Having nothing else to do, I sat down at my desk and booted up my laptop. Then, when everything was situated, I started to type out my life story.

I'm liking this story so far, AnimatedC9000. Finnaly, a Jim Henson Hour fan fiction, with Digit as the main character too. Can't wate to see more.

Took me a few times to figure out Digit was the one talking, but I'm definitely interested.

Loves it. O_O Must have more.

0_0 <3 -licks the ficcy-

It's great to read a story about Digit. I hope to read more of it soon.

Hmmmm...

First of all, I commend you on taking the first-person perspective. It's very challenging... but you're doing an excellent job so far. Granted, I don't know Digit very well at all--I've never actually seen an episode of JHH--but it definitely feels like Digit telling the story.

Now, as for the story itself... I'm... intrigued. Like I said, I'm not too familiar with JHH... But I've got a feeling that just might be changing soon. Digit's past... hmm.

Alright, you've got my attention. Now, MORE PLEASE! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

COOOL STORY! WHERES PART 2!

Caitlin, very good to see this story up! Yes folks, she and I talked about this a little on MSN at one point. Nothing as compared to Lisa and Ryan, but still... I also humbley take some of the writing credit for the opening dream sequence.
I'm interested to find out where it goes from here. (I really don't know too much more than the rest of you do.) So more please!

And thank you for helping me on that, Kate. It was nice to work with you a little bit in the planning stages of the fic.

To those of you expecting a new chapter, I'm still typing it up. I promise that it'll be here soon.

This is awesome! I am serious, it's a joy to read. Plus, Digit's the main character- I miss that guy! Keep up the great work!

You know what still kills me every time I think about this story (and I've been thinking of it a lot)? How Digit becomes a robot thanks to the explosion ... but no one else looks remotely injured even though they were closer to the blast. I'm dying to know why.

All I can reveal is that the opening dream is related to an event that happened to Digit when he was younger. Yes, an explosion was involved, but I'm not saying anything more. It'll spoil the story.

I know -- but we're jumpin' up and down on one leg out here!

I'm still typing up the second chapter, forcryinoutloud! I promise that the second chapter will be up soon, honest!

Oh goods... *twiddles fingers*

Chapter 2

My earliest childhood memory involved working on a science project when I was in middle school. I was frustrated, not being able to figure out why a certain part in my experiment wouldn’t work out. I was in the midst of a break when a knock came on my door.

“May I come in, sweetie?” a woman asked, poking her head into my room. Her hair was light brown in color and she had a very radiant smile. The detail that was very prominent about her was her species: She was human.

“Sure, Mom,” I replied with a sigh.

The woman I referred to as Mom entered the room and sat down beside me on my bed. “How’s the science project coming along, Michael?”

My full name was Michael Walker Scott. That was when I was still human and was in a family.

“Not so good, Mom,” I said, motioning over to my experiment. “I can’t seem to make it work.”

Mom took a look at the project, then back at me. “Son, you have the best grades in science that I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me that you can’t get the project-- that, remember, you designed -- to work?”

“I’ve tried everything,” I told her. “I’ve looked and re-looked at the plans. Heck, I’ve even redesigned a few parts so it could work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mom, I’ve tried everything.”

“Everything?”

She had me there. After a few awkward moments of silence, I answered her. “... what do you think I should do?”

My mother looked at me and smiled. “Michael, I know you can think of something to make it work. You just have to keep trying until you eventually get it right.”

If anything, my mother was a great motivator. She was always encouraging me to try new things and also was very supportive in my experiments.

Looking back at my experiment, I pondered my mother’s words. What else could be done to improve it, I wondered.

Standing up from my position near the edge of the bed, I headed towards the desk that supported my project and began to look over it and the plans again. Before I began to tinker, however, my mother spoke again. “Remember that bedtime’s in an hour.”

I flashed a smile as I looked over my shoulder at her. “Okay, Mom,” I said in return. “Good night.”

“Good night sweetie.” With a smile and an air kiss, she left the room.

I ultimately stayed up late that night, tinkering and fixing my project until I thought it would work. Then I activated it and watched as the experiment worked like a charm. With the work finally completed, I almost immediately fell asleep afterwards.

~~~

It should come as no surprise to anyone that my project earned an excellent grade in my science class. In fact, it might not surprise anyone if I revealed that my grades were excellent in all of my classes. All through my school years, I was in the top students of my class and excelled in pretty much every subject.
Among my fellow students, however, I wasn’t what some might consider “popular”. You see, I was mostly known to be studying by myself or experimenting than being involved with a group of people. As a result, I hardly received an invitation to any of the major parties or had a date for prom.

Still, I did manage to have friends in the teachers. They were always encouraging me to do the best that I could in my classes, just like Mom was encouraging me at home. I even actually had after-school access to the science lab thanks to Mr. Hucklebee, my science teacher in high school.

While in school, I also took an interest in photography. I’m hardly one to brag, but I took pretty decent pictures back then, and I still do every once in a while. In fact, it was because of my skills in that area that allowed me to join the school paper staff and (eventually) the yearbook committee.

By the time I was a senior, I was named the valedictorian of my class. My grades were high, my social life was improving (a little), I was the principle photographer for the yearbook committee, and my future seemed bright. It seemed that nothing in the world was going to stop me from achieving my major goals in life.

That is, until that one fatal day in late April that changed my life forever...

I apologize for this chapter being short and of lack-of-interest for some readers. I just wanted to paint a picture (if you will call it that) of Digit's childhood (or what he remembers of it). Don't worry, though, the next chapter should make up for this one.

Digit's background sounds so familiar ... like mine, actually ... WHY OH WHY COULDN'T I HAVE BEEN TURNED INTO A ROBOT? At least that'd be COOL! Argh!