Transcription
Melania housekeeper expressed no objection to my going alone on an air into Rick's house. Nevertheless, as I crossed the loose stones towards the picture frame gate, she remained at the front door watching me, and only as I stepped into the first field did she go back inside.
I followed the informal trail, and the ground soon became hard to predict; a soft step often coming straight after a hard one. The grass came up to my shoulders, and a fear entered my mind that I would lose my bearings. But this part of the field had been divided into orderly boxes, so that as I passed from one box into the next, I was able to see clearly those lined up ahead of me. Less helpful was the way the grass frequently sprang across me from one side or the other, but even this I quickly learned to control by holding out an arm. If I'd had both arms free, I'd have made even faster progress, but of course, I was holding Josie's envelope in one hand and couldn't risk harming it.
Then the tall grass finished around me, and I was standing in front of Rick's house. While viewing from a distance, I'd already estimated that Rick's house wasn't as high-rank as Josie's. Now I could see that many of its white paint boards had become gray, even brown in some places, and three of the windows were dark rectangles with no curtains or blinds within them. I went up a stairway of planks, each one bending under my tread, then onto a platform constructed from more such planks, this time with gaps between them through which I could see the muddy ground below. Near the house front door, pushed over to one side, was a refrigerator; its back fully exposed to passers-by, and I saw how spiders had made their homes within the complicated metal bracing. I paused to observe their delicate cobwebs when the front door opened, though I hadn't processed any pressed any button, and Rick came out onto the platform.
"Excuse me," I said quickly. "I didn't wish to take your privacy. I came on an important errand."
He didn't seem angry, but said nothing and went on watching me. "As often do important errands," I said. "Josie sent me on this one."
I raised the envelope. Excitement appeared suddenly in Rick's face, then vanished again. "It's good you came, then," he said.
Perhaps he expected me simply to hand him the envelope, then go away, but I'd anticipated this possibility and made no move to offer it to him. We went on standing on the planks like that, facing one another, the wind moving through the gaps. "In that case," he said eventually, "I suppose you ought to come in. Be warned, it's not fancy in here."
The hallway had a dark wood floor, and we walked past an open trunk in which items such as broken lamps and single shoes had been placed. Rick led the way into a large room with a wide window looking out over the fields. The furniture wasn't modern and didn't interconnect like that in the open plan. There was a heavy dark wardrobe, floor rugs with faded patterns, hard and soft chairs in different shapes and sizes. Of the many small pictures on the walls, some were photographs, others drawn by sharp pencil, and here too spiders had made homes in the corners of the frames. There were books, round-face clocks, low tables. I could see navigation wouldn't be easy, so selected a spot where the floor was relatively open, went to it, and stood there with my back to the wide window.
"Okay, so this is where we live," Rick said. "My mother and me."
"It's kind of you to allow me in."
"I was watching you coming from upstairs. I'll need to go back up soon." He gestured with just his eyes toward the ceiling, then he said with sadness, "I suppose you notice the smell."
"I'm not able to smell."
"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize. I assumed smell would be an important faculty; I mean, for safety, burning things, like that."
"Perhaps for that reason, B3s have been given limited smell, but I have none."
"Well, that's lucky for you, just now, because this place still smells, even though I did the haul this morning. Did it over and over." Tears had appeared in his eyes, but he went on looking at me.
"Rick's mother isn't well."
"You could say that, though she's not sick in the way Josie's sick. I'd rather not talk about Mum, if you don't mind."
"How's Josie these days?"
"I'm afraid she's no better. Worse, perhaps."
"Not worse, but I believe her condition may be a very serious one."
"That's what I was thinking." He sighed and sat down on the sofa facing me. "So, she sent you here on an errand?"
"Yes, she wanted me to give you this. She worked especially hard on it." I held out the envelope in such a way that he could receive it while still sitting on the sofa, but he rose to his feet, even though he'd only just sat down, and taking the envelope, opened it carefully. He gazed at the picture for some time, his face on the edge of smiling.
"Rick and Josie forever," he said finally.
"Is that what it says inside the bubble?"
"Oh, I thought you'd seen it. Josie put it in the envelope without showing me." He went on looking at it for another moment, then turned the drawing for me to see. It was unlike any I'd seen during the bubble games. Much of the she was filled with sharp-looking objects, many with angry protruding points that had become tangled together into an inter and impenetrable mesh. Josie had used pencils of many colors to create the mesh, but its overall effect was dark and forbidding. However, a clear, tranquil space had been kept in the lower left-hand corner, where the figures of two small people could be seen, their backs to the passers-by, walking away hand-in-hand. They were too stick-like to be identifiable other than as a boy and a girl, but they seemed happy and lacking worries. There was a bubble just above them, but because it was without the usual tail or bubbled dots, the words inside seemed more like a poster slogan or taxi door ad than the thoughts from either person's mind.
"So, what do you think?" he asked.
"It's very nice. I think it's a kind picture."
"Yes, I suppose it is. And a kind message."
Suddenly, music and electronic voices came loudly from upstairs. An annoyance appeared in Rick's face. He rushed out of the room, still holding Josie's picture. "Mom!" he shouted out in the hall. "Mom, for God's sake, turn that down, please!"
A voice came upstairs from upstairs and it said something, then Rick called up more gently, "I'll come up in a minute now. Please turn it down." The electronic sounds grew quieter, and when Rick came back into the large room, he was again looking at Josie's picture.
"Yeah, it's a kind picture. Say thanks to Josie for me."
I think Josie was hoping Rick would come in person to say thank you. "This smile faded, but it's not that simple, is it?" he said. "You're always there, taking it all in, so you know as well as I do the way she keeps getting at me. There's no reason a person has to take all that. She pushes it too far, then she thinks all can be fixed with a nice picture. Send the AF over with it. Well, she has to understand things aren't always that easily fixed."
"If Rick came to visit once more, I believe Josie may wish to apologize."
"Really? Look, I know Josie, and my guess is she's pretty convinced I'm the one who needs to do the apologizing. Josie and I have already had that discussion. I believe she's wishing to apologize to Rick."
"I suppose I was out of order too, but she can't just keep saying all that about my Mom. It's not fair. My mother's doing her best, and she's getting better."
Although the version of Rick who'd opened the door and faced me on the platform had been much like the one who'd ignored me throughout his visits, it was interesting to see how he'd now become much closer to the person I talked to at the interaction meeting. After the other children had gone outside, in fact, it was almost as if this version of Rick was meeting me for the first time since that afternoon and continuing the conversation we then started.
"I agree Josie's words were sometimes unkind," I said, "but that might be some because Josie feels Rick's mother holds Rick too closely, too closely to allow Rick and Josie's plan to become possible in the future."
"But why does Josie blame Mum all the time? It's not fair."
"Josie worries about the plan. I think she believes Rick's mother is reluctant to let Rick go because she fears the loneliness that would result for her."
"Look, you might be a very intelligent AF, but there is a lot you don't know. If you only ever listen to Josie's side of things, you'll never get the whole picture, and it's not just about Mom. Josie's always trying to trap me now."
"Trap you?"
"You must have heard. She's always doing it now. Either she accuses me of thinking about that stuff too much, or she's offended because I don't think about her enough in that way. Always trapping me. Whatever I say, she claims I'm always lusting after these girls I can see on my DS. Then the next thing she brings up, next time she brings it up and I don't react, she says there's something wrong with me, I'm not being natural. She keeps talking about how we knew each other too well when we were children, and so the whole sex thing might not even work with us. Whatever I try to say or do, it's wrong, and I get trapped. And the way she goes on about Mum, it's going too far. Plan? No plan. That's just not fair."
He sat down again, the sun's pattern falling across him. He placed Josie's drawing carefully on the sofa plate space beside him, and though the facts she was face down, kept staring at it anyway. "He said quietly, 'Josie's ill now. None of this, our plan, none of it will count if she doesn't get better soon, and the way it's going, I don't know what to think these days.'"
He looked up at me. "Look, Clara, you're supposed to be super intelligent, so what's your, you know, estimate? How ill is Josie?"
"I believe, as I've said, that Josie's illness is serious. It's possible she could become so weak she will have to pass away, just as her sister did. But I believe there's a way for her to become well again that the adults haven't yet considered. I believe also that the situation is now urgent, and we can't keep waiting, even if it seems rude and taking privacy. It's perhaps time to be active. I came here today, of course, because of my important errand, but I was also hoping Rick would give me some useful advice."
"You're super intelligent, and I'm an idiot kid who hasn't even been lifted. But okay, if you want, I'll try and give you advice. Fire away."
"I wish to go across the fields to Mr. McBain's barn. I think Rick has been there at least once."
"Josie told me about it. You mean that barn over there? We did go there once when we were pretty young still, before she got ill. I've never been. I've been there other times since, just on my own. It's nothing special, a place to sit in the shade if you happen to be taking a walk out there."
"How's that going to help Josie?"
"I shouldn't confide just now, in case it's necessarily a secret. I may even be taking things too far simply by going to Mr. McBain's barn, but I feel I must now try."
"You want to speak to Mr. McBain about Josie's health?"
"You'd be lucky to run into him out there. He lives five miles away on his main spread, hardly ever comes around these here these days."
"It wasn't Mr. McBain I wish to talk to, but please, I mustn't confide or will risk the special help Josie may yet receive. All I wish from Rick is some useful advice." I turned myself until we were both looking out of the wide window. "Please tell me, is there an informal trail through the grass that will take me to the barn, like the one that brought me here to Rick's house?"
He rose to his feet and walked to the window. "There's a path of sorts. It's easier some days than others, as you said yourself. It's informal, no one keeps it specially cleared or anything. Sometimes you go that way and everything's overgrown, but if one path's blocked or soaked, you could usually find another. There's always some way through, even in the winter."
He was suddenly looking me up and down, as if regarding me in an earnest for the first time. "I don't know much about AFs, so I don't know how hard it'll be for you. If you want, I could come with you, if it's really going to help Josie, though we're not even speaking just now. I'd be pleased to help."
"That's very kind of Rick, but I think I'd better go alone. As I say, there's a possibility."
"Oh, God." Rick turned suddenly towards and moved towards the door. I'd already been aware of the footsteps moving within the building, but now they were out in the hallway. Then Miss Helen, though I didn't yet know her name, came into the room. Her gaze moved all around her, but she appeared not to notice me. She had a light coat around her shoulders, the sort office workers wear outdoors, into which she hadn't yet put her arms, and she clutched at it to stop it slipping as she strode to a wooden trunk under the window ledge.
"Where could it be? Oh, silly, how silly of me." She raised the trunk lid and began to go through its contents.
"Mom, what are you looking for?" Rick sounded annoyed, as if his mother had broken a rule. He came and stood beside me, and we both watched Miss Helen bending over the box.
"I know, I know," she said. "We have a visitor. I'll attend in just one moment." When she straightened to face us, she was holding a shoe, its companion dangling from it on a second on a piece of tangled shoelace. "I'm sorry," she said, now looking directly at me. "I have dreadful manners. Welcome. Thank you. One never knows how to greet a guest like you, after all. Are you a guest at all, or do I treat you like a vacuum cleaner? I suppose I did as much just now."
"I'm sorry, Mom," Rick said quietly. "Don't fuss, darling. Let me get to know our new visitor in my own way." The shoe that had been dangling dropped into the trunk of its own weight. Miss Helen stared at it, the other shoe still in her hand. I saw Rick was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, and I wanted to leave, to give privacy, but Miss Helen then went on speaking to me.
"I know who you are, Josie's little companion. What a great success you've been! I've heard all about it from Chrissy. She comes here quite often, you know, doesn't she? Rick, won't you sit down?"
"You're very kind, but I feel I should be returning. Not on my account. I hope I came down looking forward to a nice chat."
"Mom, Clara has responsibilities, and you're probably still tired."
"I'm feeling fine, thank you, darling. Then to me, she said, "Apparently, I wasn't at my best last night. Now, Clara, I expect you're curious about me. Chrissy says you're curious about everything. If so, you must have noticed that I'm English. Are you equipped to identify accents, or perhaps you can see deep into me, right through to my genetics?"
"Mom, please," English people often come into the store," I said, smiling. "So all the AFs became familiar with your way of speaking. We thought it very pleasant, and manager, the lady who looked after us, always encouraged us to learn from it."
"The thought of all you robots receiving elocution lessons! How delightful! Mom, speaking of lessons, Clara, your name is Clara, isn't it? Speaking of lessons, there's an idea that's been brewing here in this household."
"Mom, definitely no!"
"Clara, isn't interested in-"
"Let me speak, darling. Here she is, in person, so let's seize our chance. I must say, darling, you've developed a tendency these days to rule the roost. It's most irritating. Clara, Clara, are you willing to listen to our idea?"
"Idea?" Rick began to walk away, as if to leave the room in disgust, but he stopped in the doorway, so that from where I was standing, I could see just a part of his back and the rear of his elbows. "I'm not a party to this," he called out, as though to someone in the hallway.
Miss Helen smiled at me, then sat down on the sofa Rick had occupied earlier. She adjusted her light coat with one hand, her shoe still in the other. "Rick used to go to a school, you know, I mean a real, uh, old-fashioned one. It was rather lawless, but he made some nice friends there, didn't you, dear?"
"I'm not participating."
"Then why are you still hovering there like that? You do look odd, darling. Do either leave or stay." Rick didn't move, keeping his back to us, his shoulder now leaning on the door frame.
"Well, the long and short of it is that Rick left the school to take up home tutoring, like all the smarter children, but then, well, as you may already know, things grew complicated." Miss Helen became suddenly silent and stared past my shoulder. I thought she'd been some seen something through the wide window behind me and was about to turn when she said, "There's nothing out there, Clara. I was just lost in thought, recalling an incident. I get that way at times. Rick will tell you I require someone to give me a little nudge when I get like that."
"Mom, for God's sake, where were we?"
"Yes, so the plan was for Rick to be home tutored by screen professors, like all the other smart children, but of course, you probably know it all became complicated, and here we are, darling. Would you like to tell the tale from here?"
"No."
"Well, the long and short of it, even though Rick was never lifted, there still remains one decent option for him. Atlas Brookings takes a small number of unlifted students. The only proper college that will still do to do so. They believe in the principle, and thank heavens for that. Now, there are only a few such places available each year, so naturally, the competition is savage, but Rick is clever, and if he applied himself and perhaps received just a little expert guidance, the sort I can't give him, he has a good chance. Oh yes, you do, darling, don't shake your head. But the long and short of it is, we can't find screen tutors for him. They're either members of TWE, which forbids its members to take unlifted students, or else they're bandits demanding ridiculous fees, which we, of course, are in no position to offer. But then we heard you arrive next door, and I had a marvelous idea."
"Mom, I mean it. We're not going any further with this." Rick came back into the room, striding toward his mother as if to pick her up and carry her off.
"Very well, darling, if you feel so strongly, we shan't continue." Rick had now come right up to the sofa and was glaring down at Miss Helen. She adjusted her posture slightly so that she could go on looking at me past him. "Just now, Clara, when I appeared to be in a dream, it wasn't any dream, you know. I was looking out there." She pointed the shoe behind me, and I was recalling.
"Turn and look all you like," Rick said. "I assure you, there's nothing there. Just now, but once, some time ago, I was looking out there, and I did see something."
"Mom," Rick said again, but now that Miss Helen had changed topic, his voice had lost its urgency. He half-turned to me, stepping back so he could no longer, he was no longer obstructing his mother's view. "It was a nice day," Miss Helen was saying. "Around four in the afternoon. I called Rick, and he came, and he saw it too, didn't you, dear? Though he claimed he was too late."
"It could have been anything, Rick, anything at all."
"What I saw was Chrissy, Josie's mother, that is. I saw her come out of the grass, just over there, holding someone by the arm. I'm explaining myself rather poorly. What I mean is, it was as if this other person had been trying to run away, and Chrissy had been after her, and she'd caught hold of her, but hadn't been able to quite stop her, so they both, both of them, tumbled out, so to speak, just over there, out from the grass onto our land."
"Mom wasn't perhaps in the best condition that day to see things accurately."
"I was able to see perfectly well. Rick doesn't like this story, so he tries to insinuate all kinds of things."
"Do you mean," I asked, "that you saw Josie's mother come out of the grass with a child? One other than Josie?"
"Chrissy was trying to hold back this person, and then she did manage to impose some control. Just got out, just out there. Chrissy had both arms around the girl. Rick got here in time to see that part, then they both vanished back into the grass."
"It could have been anyone." Rick, now more relaxed, sat down beside his mother, and he too looked past me out of the window. "Okay, one was Josie's mom, I'll allow that. But the other one? The other one looked like Sal."
"Miss Helen said, 'Josie's sister.' That's why I called Rick, this being a good two years after Sal is supposed to have died."
Rick laughed and, putting his arm around her shoulders, squeezed his mother affectionately, tilting her light coat. "Mom has some weird theories, like one about Sal still living in that house, hiding in some cupboard."
"I didn't say that, Rick. I never suggested such a thing. Seriously, Sal passed away. It was a great tragedy, and we shan't play foolish games with her memory. What I'm saying is that the person I saw trying to run away from Chrissy looked like Sal. That was all I said."
"But this is such a strange story," I said.
"I was just thinking, Clara," Rick said. "Josie might be wondering what's happened to you."
"Ah, but our little friend can't go yet," Miss Helen said. "I just remembered what we were discussing. We were discussing Rick's education."
"No, Mom, that's enough."
"But darling, Clara is here, and I mean to talk to her about this. And what do we have here?" Miss Helen had noticed Josie's picture, which Rick had left on the sofa, face down on the envelope.
"That's enough." Before Miss Helen could reach it, Rick had snatched up the picture and risen quickly. "There you go again, darling, trying to rule the roost. You must stop it." With this, back to Miss Helen, to shield what he was doing, he put Josie's picture back into the envelope with some care, then he walked out of the room, this time not stopping at the threshold. We heard his firm strides in the hallway, the front door opening, then slamming shut.
"A little air will do him good," Miss Helen said. "He gets cooped up, and now he's even stopped going to visit Josie." She was again looking past me out of the wide window, and this time, when I turned around, I saw Rick's figure outside on the boards, leaning on the rail where the plank stairs descended from the platform. He was gazing out over the fields, the sun's pattern over him. The wind was disturbing his hair, but he remained quite still.
Miss Helen rose from the sofa and came a few steps towards me until we were side by side before the window. She was taller than the mother by two inches; however, when she was standing, she didn't do so in the upright way that mother did, but with a gentle curve forward, as if she, like the tall grass outside, was being pushed by the wind. She wasn't at that moment partitioned at all, and in the window light, I could see the tiny white hairs around her chin.
"I didn't introduce myself properly," she said. "Please call me Helen. My manners have been awful."
"Not at all. You've been very kind, but I'm afraid my coming may have caused friction."
"Oh, but there's always friction. Incidentally, you, before you ask, the answer is yes, I do miss England. In particular, I miss the hedges in England, the part of it I'm from, anyway. You can see green all around you, and always divided by hedges, hedges, hedges everywhere, so ordered. Now, look out there, it just goes on and on. I suppose there are fences somewhere in the midst of it all, but who can tell?" She became quiet.
"So," I said, "I believe there are indeed fences. It's really three separate fields, fences dividing them."
"You can tear down a fence in a moment," she said, "then put up another one somewhere else. Change the entire configuration of the land in a day or two. A land of fences is so temporary. You can change things as easily as a stage act. I used to act, you know, sometimes in decent theaters, wretched theaters too. Fences? What are they? Stage design. That's the nice thing about England. Hedges give a sense of history, properly set down in the land. When I was acting, I never forgot my lines. My fellow actors did forget all the time. They were much, they weren't much good on the whole, but I never forgot, not a single line."
"I've often thought over the years to ask Chrissy about what I saw. She comes to visit from time to time, and we always have a good chat. I've often thought about asking her, but then I stopped myself. I think, no, better not to. What business of mine, anyway? I believe Rick's mother was just now wishing to discuss Rick's education."
"Please call me Helen. Yes, that was it. As you see, Rick is reluctant even to raise the topic about getting you to help. I mean, I suppose I should really ask Chrissy about it first, or even Josie. I've no idea, it's so unclear the etiquette if one was borrowing a vacuum cleaner, but it's not like that. I know, you must forgive me, what dreadful manners. All Rick needs is a little guidance. I bought the best tech book textbooks for him. They're from an era before children were lifted, and they're just right for him, but they all assume there's some sort of tutor lurking around. He has a genuine ability, especially with physics, engineering, that sort of thing, but then he comes across something he doesn't understand, there's no one to explain, and that's when he gets discouraged. There's no one to explain. I used to tell him to ask Josie, but of course, he gets so cross about that."
"So Miss Helen wishes me to help Rick with his textbooks? Just an idea. Those textbooks would be child's play for you. It's just to get him through these exams, you see. He really does need to get into Atlas Brookings. It's his only chance. I wasn't suggesting anything more long-term. I suppose I really should ask Chrissy first. If Rick could go to Atlas Brookings College, that would be a good thing. In which case, yes, I'd very much like to assist Rick, so long as it doesn't disturb all at all my looking after Josie. Perhaps if Rick resumed his visits, he could sometimes bring his books with him."
I could see my response hadn't satisfied Miss Helen. She went on looking at Rick out on the board platform. He hadn't moved at all, then said, "I suppose, if I'm honest, that's not the true issue. Yes, some tutoring would help, but the real obstacle is that, for the moment, the way things stand, Rick doesn't wish to try. If only he'd give it this his all, then I know he'd has a chance. He has such a chance, especially, you see, since I have a secret weapon to help him, to give him a little extra push. This being Atlas Brookings, but he won't try, not properly. He won't try because of me, because of you. He's convinced himself he can't go away and leave me here. Of course, I can manage perfectly well, but he likes to pretend I'm quite helpless, likely to get up to all sorts of mischief in his absence."
"Is the Atlas Brookings College far away?"
"A day's drive, but distances beside the point. He's convinced an hour is about as much as he can leave me on my own now. Now, how will he grow up and go out into the world if he can't leave me for more than an hour at a time?"
Outside, Rick began to step down the boards towards the grass. He did so slowly, as if daydreaming, and I could tell from the way he kept one arm stiffly to his chest that he was still holding Josie's drawing. As his head and shoulders descended out of view, Miss Helen went on, "What I really wish to ask you, Clara, the real request, the deeper one: would you ask Josie to try and persuade Rick? She's the one person who might change his stance. He's very stubborn, you see, and also, I suspect, rather afraid, and who could blame him? He knows the world out there won't be easy, but Josie's the one capable of getting him to see things differently. Will you speak to her? I know you have a big influence on her. Would you do this for me? Mention it to her, not just the ones, but over and over, so she'll exert a real pressure on him."
"Of course, I'd be pleased to do so, but I believe Josie has already spoken to Rick in just these terms. The current rift between them may in fact have to do with Josie expressing herself too forcefully on this very topic."
"That's interesting to know. If what you say is correct, then it's more important than ever what I'm asking you. Josie may feel she has to relent in order for them to make up. She may come to feel she was wrong ever to take the attitude she did. Well, you must speak with her. Tell her she must persevere, never mind what temper tantrums he throws."
"Is something the matter, dear?"
"I'm sorry. It's just that I'm a little surprised."
"Oh, why are you surprised, dear?"
"Well, frankly, I'm surprised because Miss Helen's request concerning Rick appears very sincere. I'm surprised someone would desire so much a path that would leave her in loneliness."
"Ah, that's what surprises you? Yes, until recently, I didn't think that humans could choose loneliness, that there would were that there were sometimes forces more powerful than the wish to avoid loneliness." Miss Helen smiled. "You really are a sweet one. You don't say as much, but I can tell what you're thinking. A mother's love for her son, such a noble thing to override the dread of loneliness. And you might not be wrong, but let me tell you, there are all kinds of other very good reasons why, in a life like mine, one might prefer loneliness. I've often made such a choice in the past. I did so, for instance, rather than stay with Rick's father. Late father, rather sadly, though Rick has no memory of him. Even so, he was for a while my husband, and not an entirely useless one at that. It's thanks to him we're able to get by this way, even if we don't exactly live in splendor here."
"Here's Rick coming back again."
"No, he's not. He wishes to stay out there and sulk further." Indeed, Rick had come walking up the plank steps and glanced toward the house, but had then sat down on the top step, his back turned to us once more.
"I must return to Josie," I said. "Then it was very kind of Miss Helen to take me into her confidence. I'll do as you ask and speak with Josie, and speak with her repeatedly. This is Rick's only chance, and as I say, I have a secret weapon, a contact, perhaps. The next time Chrissy takes Josie into the city, perhaps when she next sits for her portrait, Rick and I could catch a ride then. Rick could meet my secret weapon, weapon, hopefully impress him. Chrissy and I have already spoken about it, but all of this is useless until Rick changes his attitude."
"I understand. Then goodbye. I must go now."
When I stepped out onto the platform, I could feel the wind blowing through the gaps of the planks more strongly than before. The fields were no longer divided into boxes, so I could see a single clear picture all the way to the horizon, despite the altered angles. Mr. McBain's barn was where I expected it to be, though now a slightly changed shape to the one from Josie's rear window. I walked past the cobweb refrigerator to the top plank where Rick was seated. I thought he might still be angry and ignore me, but he looked up with gentle eyes.
"I'm sorry if my visit caused friction," I said.
"Hardly your fault. It often gets like that." We both looked at the fields before us, and I realized after a moment that his gaze, like mine, was on Mr. McBain's barn.
"You were saying something," he said, "before Mom came down. You were saying how you wanted to go out to that barn for some reason."
"Yes, and it will have to be in the evening. It's essential to time such a trip accurately."
"And you're sure you don't want me to go with you?"
"It's very kind of Rick, but if there are informal trails leading to Mr. McBain's barn, it's best I go alone."
"It's important I don't take anything for granted."
"Okay, if you say so." He was squinting up at me, partly on account of the sun's pattern on his face, but also, I realized, because he was once again studying me carefully, perhaps assessing my ability to make such a journey.
"Look," he said eventually. "I don't really understand what this is about, but if it's going to help Josie to get better, then, well, good luck."
"Thank you. Now, I must return to the house."
"You know, I've been thinking about it," he said. "Perhaps you could tell Josie I really like the picture, that I was grateful, and that if it's okay with her, I'd like to come over soon and tell her that myself."
"Josie will be so happy when she hears. Maybe tomorrow, even."
"Yes, of course. Well, then, goodbye. It was a very interesting trip for me. Thank you for your useful advice. See you, Clara."
"Clara, go carefully."
The timing of my journey to Mr. McBain's barn, as I told Rick, was crucial, and when I crossed the loose stones towards the picture frame gate for the second time that day, a fear came into my mind that I'd miscalculated. The sun was already low before me, and I couldn't assume the second and third fields would be as easy to navigate as the first. My journey began reassuringly; the informal trail to Rick's house similar to what it had been in the morning. This time, I had both hands to push away the grass, and as I did so, evening insects flew up. I saw more insects hovering before me in the air, nervously exchanging positions but unwilling to abandon their friendly clusters. My fear of not reaching Mr. McBain's barn in time caused me to give only a brief glance at Rick's house as I passed it, and then I was further along the informal trail, beyond any point I'd been. I went through another picture frame gate, then the grass became too tall to see the barn anymore. The field became partitioned into boxes, some larger than others, and I pressed on, conscious of the contrasting atmospheres between one box and another. One moment the grass would be soft and yielding, the ground easy to tread; then I'd cross a boundary and everything would darken, the grass would resist my pushes, and there would be strange noises around me, making me fearful that I'd made a serious miscalculation, that there was no justifiable reason to disturb his privacy in the manner I was hoping to do, that my efforts would have gravely negative consequences for Josie.
While crossing one particularly unkind box, I heard around me the cries of an animal in pain, and a picture came into my mind of Rosa sitting on the rough ground somewhere outdoors, little pieces of metal scattered around her as she reached out both hands to grasp one of her legs stretched out stiffly before her. The image was in my mind for only a second, but the animal carried on making its noise, and I felt the ground collapsing beneath me. I remembered the terrible bull on the walk up to Morgan's Falls, and how, in all probability, it had emerged from beneath the ground. And for a moment, I even thought the sun wasn't kind at all, and this was the true reason for Josie's worsening condition. Even in this confusion, I was convinced that if I could only pull myself through into a kinder box, I'd become safe. I'd also been aware of a voice calling to me, and I now spotted an object shaped like one of the overhaul men's traffic cones, placed in the grass a little ahead of me. The voice was coming from behind this cone, and when I turned to move toward it, I realized that it, in fact, was two cones, one inserted into the other, allowing the higher one to perform a rocking motion, perhaps to draw the attention of passers-by.
"Clara, come on over here." I came closer than realized. These weren't cones at all, but Rick, holding back the grass with one hand and reaching the other toward me. Now that I'd recognized him, I had even more incentive to move towards him, but my feet sank further, and I knew if I attempted another step, I'd lose balance and fall deep into the ground. I knew too that despite Rick's Rick appearing to be within touching distance, he was not in reality so near because of the fierce border separating our boxes. Even so, he continued to reach out towards me, and where his arm crossed into my box, it appeared elongated and bent.
"Clara, come on." But I'd accept it now that I would soon fall into the ground, that the sun was angry with me and perhaps unkind, and that Josie was disappointed with me. I began to lose orientation, even as Rick's arm grew longer and more crooked till it touched me. It stopped me falling, and my feet steadied a little. "Okay, Clara, this way." He was guiding, almost carrying me across, and then I was in a kind box, the sun's generous pattern over me, and my thoughts found order once more.
"Thank you, thank you for him coming to help. I saw you from my window."
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, everything is fine again. The field posed more problems than I expected. I suppose these little ditches can get tricky."
"I have to say, from up there, you look like one of those flies that buzz around blindly on the window pane."
"But that's unkind."
"I'm sorry."
I smiled and said, "I feel so foolish." Then, remembering, I looked up to check the son's position. "This journey is so important," I said, looking at him again. "But I estimated incorrectly, and now I won't get there in time." The grass was still too high to see Mr. McBain's barn in the distance, but Rick was looking straight in its direction, a hand shielding his eyes. "It occurred to me he was tall enough to see it."
"I should have left the house earlier," I said, "regardless of the awkwardness when I returned. But I was waiting till Josie fell asleep and to allow Melania housekeeper to believe I was going on another air into Rick's house. I thought there'd be sufficient time, but the fields were more complex than I'd imagined."
Rick was still looking toward Mr. McBain's farm. "You keep saying you won't get there in time," he said. "But when exactly did you want to be there?"
"Just as the sun is arriving at Mr. McBain's barn, but before he disappears for his rest."
"Look, I don't understand any of this, and I appreciate you can't let me in on whatever it for whatever reason, but if you want, I'll take you there."
"That's very kind, but even with Rick guiding, I believe it's now too late."
"I wouldn't guide you. I'll carry you piggyback. We've got a way to go, but if we hurry, I think we can make it."
"You do that. You keep saying it's important, important for Josie, so yes, I'd like to help. This is over my head, but then I'm used to that. If we were going, we'd have to hurry." He turned and lowered himself into a crouching position. I understood I was to climb on his back, and immediately I did so, clasping my arms and legs around him. He began to move. Now I was higher, I could see better the evening sky and the roof of Mr. McBain's barn ahead of us. Rick moved confidently, crashing through the grass, and since his arms were occupied holding me, most of the impact was taken by his head and shoulders. I felt sorry about this, and that there was so little I could do myself to push back the grass. Then I looked up past Rick's head and saw that the sky had become divided into segments of irregular shape. Some segments were glowing orange or pink, while others showed pieces of the night sky, sections of the moon visible at a corner or edge. As Rick moved forward, the segments kept overlapping and displacing one another. Even as we passed through another picture frame gate, after that, the grass instead of being delicate and waving, came toward us as flat shapes, possibly made from heavy board, such as the sort used for street advertising, and I feared they would cause Rick injury as he plunged into them. Then the sky and the field were no longer in segments, but one broad picture, and Mr. McBain's barn was looming there before us.
The uneasy thought that had been growing in my mind could now no longer be set aside. Even before Rick had come to my aid, I'd started to wonder if the sun's resting place really was inside the barn itself. Of course, I'd been the one, not Josie, who'd first suggested such a thing, that time we gazed out together from the rear window, so any such error was entirely my own. Certainly, there was no question of whether of Josie having misled me at any stage. Even so, it was discouraging, that thought that the sun was about to reach, was about to descend, not into the place I was making such an effort to reach, but somewhere further away still. When I now observe what I now observed, it obliged me to accept that my fear was justified.
Mr. McBain's barn was unlike any building I'd seen. It resembled the outer shell of a house; the men hadn't yet finished. There was a gray roof with a facing triangle in the usual manner, supported to the left and right by walls of the darker shade, but apart from the sections enclosing the roof, the structure had no walls front or rear. The wind, I knew, was even then blowing right the way through the with barely any obstruction, and the sun, I saw, had now fallen behind the barn structure and was sending his rays through the rear opening back out to us as we approached. We'd meanwhile come into a clearing, not unlike the one upon which Rick's house was built. There was grass here, but it had been cut, perhaps by Mr. McBain himself, to just above feet level. The cutting had been performed skillfully, so that a pattern could be seen weaving towards the barn entrance, and because the sun was now shining straight through the barn, its shadow was spreading across the grass towards us. Though it seemed discourteous, I signaled urgently to Rick by tightening my arms and legs.
"Please stop," I whispered into his ear. "Stop, please let me down."
He lowered me carefully, and we both gazed at the scene before us. Although I now had to accept the barn couldn't be the sun's actual resting place, I allowed myself an encouraging possibility that regardless of where the sun ultimately settled, Mr. McBain's barn was a place he made a point of calling at last thing each evening, just as Josie always visited her ensuite before retiring to bed.
"I'm so grateful," I said, keeping my voice low despite the outdoor acoustics. "But from here, it's best Rick leaves me and I go alone."
"Whatever you save, if you like, I'll wait here for you."
"How long do you suppose you'll be?"
"It's best Rick returns to his house. Miss Helen will worry otherwise."
"Mom will be fine, I think. I'd better wait. Remember how it was going back, going before I came on the scene, and your journey back will probably be in the dark. I'll have to manage. Rick has been too kind already, and it's best I enter alone. As it is, standing here like this, it might already be stealing too much privacy."
Rick looked again at Mr. McBain's barn, then shrugged. "Okay, I'll leave it to you. Whatever this is, you have to do it. Thank you. Good luck, Clara. I mean it." He turned and walked back into the tall grass, and soon I could no longer see him.
Once alone, I began to pace, place my thoughts fully on the task before me. It occurred to me that if a passerby had stood directly before the barn, even five minutes earlier, they would have been able to not only see the evening sun through the rear and the continuation of the field, but also a lot more of the barn's shadowy interior. But now, with the sun's rays coming straight towards me, I could make out only some blurred box-like shapes stacked one on top of the other, and the thought returned to me with more certainty than ever that even accounting for the sun's great generosity, what I was about to do carried risk and would require all my concentration. I heard behind me the breeze in the grass and the cries of distant birds, and ordering my thoughts, I walked across the grass toward Mr. McBain's barn.