Transcription
In the days after Rosa left, I remained mid-store. The two B3s in the window had been bought one day apart, and Boy AF Rex also found a home around that time. Soon, three more B3s arrived, Boy AFs again, and Manager positioned them almost directly across from me, over on the magazines table side, alongside the two Boy AFs from the other series. The glass display trolley was between me and this group, so I didn't converse with them much, but I had plenty of time to observe them. And I saw how welcoming the older Boy AFs were being, giving the new B3s all kinds of useful advice. So, I suppose they were getting on well.
But then, I began to notice something odd. During the course of a morning, say, the three B3s would move little by little away from the two older AFs. Sometimes they would take tiny steps to the side, or a B3 would become interested in something through the window, walk over to take a look, then return to a spot slightly different from the one Manager had chosen for him. After four days, there could be no more doubt: the three new B3s were deliberately moving themselves away from the older AFs so that when customers came in, the B3s would look like a separate group on their own. I didn't wish to believe this at first, that AFs, in particular, AFs hand-picked by Manager, could behave in this way. I felt sorry for the older Boy AFs, but then realized they hadn't noticed anything. Nor did they notice, as I soon did, how the B3s exchanged sly looks and signals whenever one of the older Boy AFs took the trouble to explain something to them. The new B3s, it was said, had all sorts of improvements, but how could they be good AFs for their children if their minds could invent ideas like these? If Rosa had been with me, I would have discussed what I'd seen with her, but of course, she'd been gone by then.
One afternoon, when the sun was looking in all the way to the back of the store, Manager came to where I was and said, "Clara, I've decided to give you another turn in the window. You'll be by yourself this time, but I know you won't mind that. You're always so interested in the outside."
I was so surprised, I looked at her and said nothing.
"Dear Clara," Manager said, and it was always Rosa, "I was concerned about you. You're not worried, are you? You mustn't worry. I'll make sure you find a home."
"I'm not worrying, Manager," I said. I almost said something about Josie, but stopped myself in time, remembering our conversation about the spiky-haired girl that had come to the store.
"From tomorrow, then," Manager said, "just six days. I'm giving you a special price, too. Remember, Clara, you'll be representing the store again, so do your best."
My second time in the window felt different from the first, and not just because Rosa wasn't with me. The street outside was as lively as before, but I found I had to make more efforts to be excited by what I saw. Sometimes a taxi would slow, a passerby would stoop down to talk to the driver, and I would try to guess if they were friends or enemies. At other times, I'd watch the small figures going across the windows of the RPO building and try to understand what their movements meant, and to imagine what each person had been doing just before they'd appeared in their rectangle, and what they might do afterwards.
The most important thing I observed during my second time was what happened to Beggar Man and his dog. It was on the fourth day, on an afternoon so gray some taxis had on their small lights, that I noticed Beggar Man wasn't at his usual place, greeting passers-by from the blank doorway between the RPO and fire escape buildings. I didn't think much about it at first, because Beggar Man often wandered away, sometimes for long periods. But then, once I looked over to the opposite side and realized he was there, after all, and so was his dog, and that I hadn't seen them because they were lying on the ground. They'd pushed themselves right against the black, blank doorway to keep out of the way of the passers-by, so that from our side, you could have mistaken them for the bags the city workers sometimes left behind.
But now, I kept looking at them through the gaps in the passers-by, and I saw that Beggar Man never moved, and neither did the dog in his arms. Sometimes a passerby would notice and pause, but then start walking again. Eventually, the sun was almost behind the RPO building, and Beggar Man and the dog were exactly as they had been all day, and it was obvious they had died, even though the passers-by didn't know it. I felt sadness then, despite it being a good thing they'd died together, holding each other and trying to help one another. I wish someone would notice so they could be taken somewhere better and quieter, and I thought about saying something to Manager. But when it was time for me to step down from the window for the night, she looked so tired and serious, I decided to say nothing.
The next morning, the grid went up, and it was a most splendid day. The sun was pouring his nourishment onto the street and into the buildings, and when I looked over to the spot where Beggar Man and the dog had died, I saw they weren't dead at all. That a special kind of nourishment from the sun had saved them. Beggar Man wasn't yet on his feet, but he was smiling and sitting up, his back against the blank doorway, one leg stretched out, the other bent so he could rest his arm on his knee, and with his free hand he was fondling the neck of the dog, who had also come back to life and was looking from side to side at the people going by. They were both hungrily absorbing the sun's special nourishment and becoming stronger by the minute, and I saw that before long, perhaps even by that afternoon, Beggar Man would be on his feet again, cheerfully exchanging remarks as always from the blank doorway.
Then soon, my six days were finished, and Manager told me I'd been a credit to the store. "Above average numbers," she said, "had come in while I'd been in the window." And I was happy when I heard this. I thanked her for giving me a second turn, and she smiled and said she was sure I wouldn't now have to wait long.
Ten days later, I was moved to the rear alcove. Manager, knowing how much I liked to have a view of the outside, assured me it would only be for a few days, then I'd be able to return mid-store again. "In any case," she said, "the rear alcove was a very good position." And sure enough, I found I didn't mind it at all. I'd always liked the two AFs who were now sitting on the glass table against the back wall, and I was close enough to them to have extended conversations, calling across to them, provided there were no customers. The rear alcove, however, was beyond the arch, so not only was there no view of the outside, it was hard to see even the front part of the store. If I wished to see customers as they first came in, I had to lean all the way forward to peer around the side of the arch, and even then, even if I took a few steps, the view would still be interrupted by the silver vases on the magazine table and the B3 standing mid-store.
On the other hand, perhaps because we were further from the street, or because of the way the ceiling sloped down at the rear of the store, I could hear sounds more clearly. That was why I knew, just from her footsteps, long before she started to speak, that Josie had come into the store.
"Why did they have to have all that perfume?" I almost gagged.
"Soap, Josie," the mother's voice said, "not perfume. Hand-cut soap, and very fine it was, too."
"Well, that wasn't the store. It was this one. I told you, Mom." I heard her careful steps move along the floor. Then she said, "This is definitely the right store, but she's not here anymore."
I took three small steps forward till I could see between the silver vases and the B3s. The mother, standing at some, staring at something out of my vision. I could see her face only from one side, but I thought she appeared even more tired than that time I'd seen her on the sidewalk, looking like one of the high-perched birds in the wind. I guess that she was just watching Josie, and that Josie was looking at the new girl B3 in the front alcove. For a long time, nothing happened. Then the mother said, "What do you think, Josie?"
Josie didn't reply, and I heard Manager's footsteps move across the floor. I could now feel that special stillness in the store when every AF is listening, wondering if a sale is about to be made.
"Soong Yi is a B3, of course," Manager said. "One of the most perfect I've yet seen." I could now see Manager's shoulder, but I still couldn't see Josie. Then I heard Josie's voice say, "You're really fantastic, Suny. So, please don't take this in the wrong way. It's just that..." she trailed off. I heard again her careful steps. Then, for the first time, I could see her. Josie was casting her gaze all around the store.
The mother said, "I've heard these new B3s are very good with cognition and recall, but that they can sometimes be less empathetic."
Manager made a sound that was a sigh and also a laugh. "At the very beginning, perhaps one or two B3s were known to be less headstrong, but I can absolutely assure you, Soon Ye here will present no such issues."
"Would you mind," the mother said to Manager, "if I address Suing you directly? I have some questions I'd like to put to her."
"But Mom," Josie broke in, and now she was again out of my vision, "what's the point? Suny's great, I know, but she's not who I want. We can't keep searching forever."
"Josie, but it was this store, I'm telling you, Mom. She was here."
"I guess we're too late. That's all. It was unfortunate Josie should have come in just when I was rear store." Even so, I was sure she would in time come to my part of the store and see me, and that was one reason why I remained where I was, not making a sound. But perhaps there was a further reason. For a fear had entered my mind almost at the same moment I'd felt joy on realizing who had come into the store. A fear to do with what Manager had said to me that day about how children often made promises, then didn't return, or if they did, ignored the AF to whom they made the promise and chose another. Perhaps that was why I went on waiting there quietly.
Then Manager's voice came again, and there was something new in it. "Excuse me, Miss. Do I understand you are looking for a particular AF, one you'd seen here before?"
"Yes, ma'am. You had her in your window a while back. She was really cute and really smart, looked almost French, short hair, quite dark, and all her clothes were like dark, too. And she had the kindest eyes, and she was so smart."
"I think I know who you mean," Manager said. "If you'd follow me, Miss, we'll find out."
Only then did I move to where they could see me. I'd been out of the sun's pattern all morning, but now I stepped into two bright, intersecting rectangles just as Manager and Josie, following, came up to the arch. When Josie saw me, her face filled with joy, and she quickened her stride. "You're still here!"
She had become even thinner. She kept coming with her uncertain stride, and I thought she was about to embrace me, but she stopped at the last moment and looked up into my face. "Oh boy, I really thought you'd gone."
"Why would I be gone?" I said quietly. "We made a promise."
"Yeah," Josie said. "Yeah, I guess we did. I guess I was the one who screwed up. I mean, taking so long."
As I smiled at her, she called over her shoulder, "Mom, this is her! The one I've been looking for!"
The mother came slowly towards the arch, then stopped, and for a moment, all three were looking at me. Josie, at the front, beaming happily. Manager, just behind her, also smiling, but with a caution in her look, which I took as an important signal from her. And then the mother, her eyes narrowed like people on the sidewalk when they're trying to see if a taxi is free or already taken. And when I saw her, and the way she was looking at me, the fear—the one that had all but vanished when Josie had cried, "You're still here!"—came back into my mind.
"I didn't mean to take so long," Josie was saying, "but I got a little sick. I'm fine again, though." Then she called back, "Mom, can we buy her right away, before someone else comes in and takes her?"
There was silence. Then the mother said quietly, "This one isn't a B3, I take it?"
"Clara is a B2, Manager said, "but from the fourth series, which some say has never been surpassed. But not a B3. The B3 innovations are truly marvelous, but some customers feel for a certain sort of child, a top-range B2 can still be the most happy match."
"I see. Mom, Clara is the one I want. I don't want any other."
"One moment, Josie," then she asked Manager, "Every artificial friend is unique, right?"
"That's correct, ma'am. And particularly so at this level."
"So, may, what makes this one unique? This Clara?"
"Clara has so many unique qualities, we could be here all morning. But if I had to emphasize just one, well, it would have to be her appetite for observing and learning. Her ability to absorb and blend everything she sees around her is quite amazing. As a result, she now has the most sophisticated understanding of any AF in the store. B3s not accepted?"
"Is that so?" the mother was once again looking at me with narrowed eyes. She then took three steps toward me. "You mind if I ask her a few questions?"
"Please go ahead, Mom. Please excuse me, Josie, just stand over there a moment while I talk to Clara."
Then it was the mother and me, and though I tried to keep a smile on my face, it was not easy, and I might even have let the fear show.
"Clara," the mother said, "I want you not to look towards Josie now. Tell me, without looking, what color are her eyes?"
"They're grey, ma'am."
"Good. Josie, I want you to keep absolutely silent now. Clara, my daughter's voice, you heard her speak just now. How would you say her voice was pitched?"
"Her conversational voice has a range between a flat above middle C to C octave."
"Is that so?" There was another silence. Then the mother said, "Last question, Clara. What did you notice about the way my daughter walks?"
"There's perhaps a weakness in her left hip. Also, her right shoulder has potential to give pain. So Josie walks in a way that will protect it from sudden motion or unnecessary impact."
The mother considered this. Then she said, "Well, Clara, since you appear to know so much about it, will you please reproduce for me Josie's walk? Will you do that for me right now?"
My daughter's walk. Behind the mother's shoulder, I saw Manager's lips part as though about to speak, but she said nothing. Instead, meeting my gaze, she gave me the smallest of nods. So I started to walk. I realized that as well as the mother, and of course Josie, the whole store was now watching and listening. I stepped beneath the arch onto the sun's patterns spread across the floor. Then I went in the direction of the B3 standing mid-store and the glass display trolley. I did all I could to reproduce Josie's walk, just as I'd seen it that first time after she got out of the taxi, when Rosa and I were in the window, then four days later, when she'd come towards the window after the mother had removed her hand from her shoulder, then finally, as I'd seen her a moment ago, hurrying to me with relieved happiness in her eyes.
When I reached the glass display trolley, I started to go around it, taking care not to lose the character of Josie's walk, even as I tried not to brush against the Boy B3 standing beside the trolley. But as I was about to start on the return lap, I glanced up and caught sight of the mother, and something in that, in what I saw, made me stop. She was still watching me carefully, but it was as if her gaze was now focused straight through me, as if I was the glass in the window, and she was trying to see something a long way behind it. I remember there, beside I remained there beside the glass display trolley, one foot poised, heel off the floor, and there was a strange stillness in the store.
Then Manager said, "As you see, Clara has extraordinarily uh extraordinary observational ability. I've never known one like her, Mom."
"This time," Josie's voice was hushed, "Mom, please."
"Very well. We'll take her." Josie came hurrying to me. She put her arms around me and held me. When I gazed over the child's head, I saw Manager smiling happily, and the mother, her face drawn and serious, looking down to search in her shoulder bag.
***
Part Two
The kitchen was especially difficult to navigate because so many of its elements would change their relationships to one another moment by moment. I now appreciated how, in the store, surely out of consideration for us, Manager had carefully kept all the items, even smaller ones like the bracelets or the silver earrings box, or in their correct places. Throughout Josie's house, however, and in the kitchen in particular, Melania, housekeeper, would constantly move items around, obliging me to start afresh in my learning. One morning, for instance, Melania, housekeeper, altered the position of her food blender four times within as many minutes.
But once I'd established the importance of the island, things became much easier. The island was in the center of the kitchen, and perhaps to emphasize its fixed down nature, had pale brown tiles that mimicked the bricks of a building sunk into its middle was a shiny basin, and there were three high stools along the longest edge where residents would sit. In those early days, when Josie was still quite strong, she often sat at the island to do her tutorial work or just to relax with her pencil and sketch bag pad. I found it hard at first to sit on the island's high stools because my feet couldn't touch the floor, and if I tried to swing them, they would become obstructed by a rod that crossed the high stool frame. But then I copied Josie's method of placing elbows firmly down on the island's surface, and from then on, felt more secure. Though there were always remain the possibility that Melania, housekeeper, would appear suddenly behind me, reach for the taps, and make water come out with great force. The first time this happened, I was so startled I nearly lost balance, but Josie, beside me, barely moved, and I soon learned there was nothing to fear from a few specks of moisture.
The kitchen was an excellent room for the sun to look into. There were large windows facing a wide sky and an outdoors almost permanently empty of traffic and passers-by. Standing at the large windows, it was possible to see the road rising over the hill past faraway trees. The kitchen often filled with the sun's best nourishment. In addition to the large windows, there was a skylight in the high ceiling which could be revealed or concealed with a remote. I at first worried about the way Melania, housekeeper, often made the blind come over the skylight just as as the sun was sending in as nourishment, but then I saw how easily Josie could grow too warm and learned to use the remote myself if the sun's pattern over her became too intense.
I found strange, for a while, not only the lack of traffic and passers-by, but also the absence of other AFs. Of course, I hadn't expected other AFs to be in the house, and I was, in many ways, pleased to be the only one, since I could focus my attention solely on Josie. But I realized how much I'd grown used to making observations and estimates in relation to those of other AFs around me, and here too was another adjustment I had to make. In those early days, at stray moments, I'd often look out at the highway going over the hill, or at the view across the fields from the bedroom rear window, and search with my gaze for the figure of a distant AF, before remembering how unlikely a prospect that was, so far away from the city and other buildings.
During my very first days in the house, I foolishly thought Melania, housekeeper, might be a person rather like Manager, and this led to a few misunderstandings. For instance, I thought it might be her duty to introduce me to the various aspects of my new life, and understandably, Melania, housekeeper, had found my frequent presence in her vicinity both puzzling and irritating. When at last she turned angrily around to me and shouted, "Quit following me, AF! Get lost!" I was surprised, but soon came to appreciate that her role in the house was quite unlike Manager's, and that I'd been at fault. Even allowing for such misunderstandings on my part, it remains hard not to believe Melania, housekeeper, was opposed from the start to my presence. Although I behaved towards her with consistent politeness, and especially in the first days tried to do small things to please her, she never returned my smiles or spoke to me other than to issue an instruction or reprimand.
Today, as I gather together these memories, it seems obvious that her hostility had to do with her larger fears concerning what might be happening around Josie, but at the time, there was no easy way for me to account for her coldness. She seemed often to wish to shorten the time I spent with Josie, which of course ran counter to my duty, and initially, she even attempted to prevent me coming into the kitchen for the mother's quick coffee and Josie's breakfast. It was only after Josie insisted strongly, the mother finally ruled in finally ruling in my favor, that I was permitted to be in the kitchen for these pivotal moments each morning. Even then, Melania, housekeeper, tried to insist that I remain standing by the refrigerator while Josie and the mother sat at the island, and I was allowed to join them only after more protests from Josie.
The mother's quick coffee was, as I say, an important moment every morning, and it was one of my tasks to wake Josie up in good time for it. Often, despite my repeated efforts, Josie wouldn't rise until the very last moment and would then start shouting from inside her ensuite bathroom, "Hurry up, Clara! We'll be late!" even though I was already outside on the landing, waiting anxiously. We would find the mother sitting at the island, staring at her oblong as she drank her coffee, Melania, housekeeper, hovering nearby, ready to fill her cup. There was often not much time for Josie and the mother to converse, but I soon learned how important it was, nonetheless, for Josie to be able to sit with the mother during the quick coffee.
Once, when her illness had disturbed much of her night, I allowed Josie to fall back asleep after I'd woken her, thinking at best she rest a little more. When she woke up, she shouted angry words at me, and for all her being weak, hurried to get downstairs in time. But as she was emerging from her ensuite, we heard the mother's car down on the loose stones below, and we hurried to the front window in time to see her car moving away towards the hill. Josie didn't shout at me again, but once we were down in the kitchen, she didn't smile while she ate her breakfast. I understood then that if she failed to join the mother for the quick coffee, there was the danger of loneliness creeping into her day, no matter what other events filled it.
Occasionally, there were mornings when the mother didn't have to hurry. When, though she was in her high rank clothes and her bag was against the refrigerator, she would drink her coffee slowly, even getting off the high stool and walking around with the cup and saucer in her hands. Sometimes she would stand before the large windows, the sun's morning pattern over her, and say something like, "You know, Josie, I get the impression you've given up on your colored pencils. I love those black and whites you're doing, but I do miss the color pictures."
"I decided, Mom, my color pictures were a major embarrassment."
"An embarrassment? Oh, come on, Mom. Me drawing in color is like you playing that cello. In fact, worse."
When Josie said this, the mother's face broke into a smile. The mother didn't smile often, but when she did, her smile was surprisingly like Josie's. Her whole face seemed to overflow with kindness, and the same creases that usually created such a tense expression would refold into ones of humor and gentleness. "I have to admit, my cello playing, even at its glorious best, sounded like Dracula's grandmother. But your use of color is more like, well, a pond on a summer's evening. Something like that. You do beautiful things with color, Josie. Things no one else even thought about."
"Mom, people's children's pictures always look that way to them. Something to do with the evolutionary process, you know."
"What I think this all has to do with is when you took that very good flyer you made into that meeting that time, the meeting before last, and that Richard's girl said something a little ironic."
"I've told you before, I know, but here it is again. That young lady was jealous of your talent, that's why she said what she did."
"Okay, if you really mean that, Mom, I might even go back to the color. And maybe in return, you could take up your cello again?"
"Oh, no, that's all behind me now, unless someone's desperate for a soundtrack for their homemade zombie movie picture."
But there were other mornings when the mother would remain unsmiling, intense, even if the quick coffee didn't have to be hurried. If Josie was talking about her oblong tutors, doing her best to be humorous about them, the mother would listen with a serious expression, then interrupt to say, "We could switch if you don't like the guy. We can always switch."
"No, Mom, please. I'm just talking. Okay? In fact, this guy's so much better than the last one. He's funny, too."
"That's good," the mother would nod, her face still serious. "The way you're always willing to give people a decent chance, that's a good trait."
In those days, when Josie's health was quite good, she still liked to eat her evening meal after the mother had come in from her work. This meant we would often go up to Josie's bedroom to wait for the mother's return and to watch the sun go to his resting place. Just as Josie had promised, the bedroom rear window had a clear view across the fields all the way to the horizon, allowing us to watch the sun sinking into the ground at the end of his day. Although Josie always talked about the field, it was in fact three fields adjoining one another, and anyone looking carefully could see the posts marking their boundaries. The grass was tall in all three fields, and when the wind blew, it would move as if invisible passers-by were hurrying through it.
The sky from the bedroom rear window was far larger than the gap of sky at the store and capable of surprising variations. Sometimes it was the color of the lemons in the fruit bowl, then would turn to the gray of the slate chopping boards. When Josie wasn't well, it would turn the color of her vomit or her pale feces, or even develop streaks of blood. Sometimes the sky would become divided into a series of squares, each one a different shade of purple to its neighbor.
There was a soft cream couch beside the bedroom rear window, which I named in my mind the Button Couch. Although it faced inwards into the room, Josie and I liked to kneel on it, our arms against its cushioned back, and gaze out at the sky in the fields. Josie appreciated how much I enjoyed the last part of the sun's journey, and we tried to watch it from the Button Couch whenever possible.
There was a time when the mother had come back earlier than usual, and she and Josie were talking on the high stools of the island. And given to the privacy, I'd gone to stand beside the refrigerator. The mother that evening was in an energetic mood, speaking rapidly, recounting humorous things about the people in her office, pausing every now and then to laugh, sometimes in long bursts that made her almost lose breath. In the middle of this talk, when the mother seemed about to break into more laughter, Josie interrupted to say, "Mom, that's just great, but do you mind if Cli Clara and I go up to my room for a minute? Clara just loves to watch the sunset, and if we don't go now, we'll miss it."
When she said this, I glanced around and saw the kitchen had become filled with the sun's evening light. The mother was staring at Josie, and I thought she was about to become angry, but then her face softened into her kind smile, and she said, "Of course, honey. You go ahead. Go watch your sunset, then we'll get supper."
Apart from the fields and the sky, there was something else we could see from the bedroom rear window that drew my curiosity: a dark, box-like shape at the end of the furthest field. It didn't move as the grass shifted around it, and when the sun came so low it was almost touching the grass, the dark shape remained in front of the globe, his glow. It was on the evening Josie risked the mother's anger on my behalf that I pointed it out to her. When I did so, she raised herself higher on the Button Couch and moved her hands to her eyes to shade them.
"Oh, you must mean Mr. McBain's barn."
"A barn? It's maybe not really a barn because it's open on two sides, more a shelter, I guess. Mr. McBain keeps stuff in there. I went there once with Rick."
"I wonder why the sun would go for his rest to a place like that."
"Yeah," Josie said. "You'd think the sun would need a palace, minimum. Maybe Mr. McBain's done a big upgrade since I was last there."
"I wonder when it was Josie went there?"
"Oh, a long time ago now. Rick and I were still quite little, before I got sick."
"Was there anything unusual nearby? A gateway, or perhaps steps going down into the earth?"
"Uh-uh. Nothing like that. Just the barn. And we were glad of it, too, because we were little and we got really tired walking all that way. Mind you, it was nowhere near sunset."
"If there's an entrance to a palace, it might be hidden. Maybe the doors open just before the sun gets there. I saw a movie like that once, where all these bad guys had their HQ inside a volcano, and what you thought was a lava lake on top slid open just before they came down in the helicopters. Maybe the sun's palace works the same way. Anyway, me and Rick, we weren't looking for it. We'd gone out there for the hell of it, then we got hot and wanted some shade, so we sat inside Mr. McBain's barn for a time, then came back."
"She touched my arm gently. "Wish we'd seen more, but we didn't. The sun had become just a short line glowing through the grass."
"There he goes," Josie said. "Hope he gets a good sleep."
"I wonder who this boy was, this Rick?"
"Rick? Only my best friend. Oh, I see. Hey, Clara, did I just say something wrong?"
"No, but it's now my duty to be Josie's best friend. You're my AF. That's different. But Rick, well, we're going to spend our lives together."
The sun was now barely a pink mark in the grass. "There's nothing Rick won't do for me," she said, "but he worries too much. Always worrying things will get in our way."
"What kind of things?"
"Oh, you know, the whole love and romance stuff to figure out. And I guess there's the other thing, too."
"Other thing?"
"But he's worrying over nothing, because with me and Rick, it got decided a long time ago. It's not going to change."
"Where is this Rick now? Does he live nearby?"
"Lives next door. I'll introduce you. Can't wait for you guys to meet."
I met Rick the following week, on the day I first saw Josie's house from the outside. Josie and I had been having many friendly arguments about how one part of the house connected to another. She couldn't accept, she wouldn't accept, for what, for instance, that the vacuum cleaner closet was directly beneath the large bathroom. Then one morning, after another such friendly argument, Josie said, "Clara, you're driving me crazy with this! As soon as I'm done with Professor Helm, I'm taking you outside. We're going to check all this out from out here."
There, I became excited at this prospect. But first, Josie had her tutorial, and I watched her spread the papers over the surface of the island and turn on her oblong to give privacy. I sat with an empty high stool separating us. I could soon tell the lesson wasn't going smoothly. The tutor's voice escaping from Josie's headset seemed frequently to reprimand her, and she kept scribbling meaninglessly on her worksheet, sometimes pushing them dangerously close to the sink. At one point, I noticed she'd become very distracted by something outside the large windows and was no longer listening to her professor. A little later, she said angrily to the screen, "Okay, I've done it! I really have! Why don't you believe me? Yes, exactly the way you said!"
The lesson went on longer than usual, but at last came to an end with Josie saying quietly, "Okay, Professor Helm. Thank you. Yes, I'll be sure to. Goodbye. Thank you for today's lesson." She turned off the oblong with a sigh and removed her headset. Then, seeing me, she immediately brightened. "I haven't forgotten, Clara. We're going outside, right? Just let me get my sanity back. That Professor Helm's, wow, am I glad I don't have to look at him anymore. Live somewhere hot, you can tell. I could see him perspiring."
She got off the high stool and stretched out her arms. "Mom says we have to let Melania know anytime we go outside. Will you go and tell her while I put my coat on?" I could see Josie was also feeling excitement, though in her case, I guessed it had to do with whatever she'd seen through the large windows during her lesson. In any case, I went to the open plan to find Melania, housekeeper. The open plan was the largest room in the house. It had two sofas and several soft rectangles on which residents could sit, also cushions, lamps, plants, and a corner desk. When I opened the sliding doors that day, its furniture was a series of interlocking grids. The figure of Melania, housekeeper, almost indistinguishable amidst their complex pattern, but I was able to spot her sitting upright on the edge of a soft rectangle, busily doing something on her oblong. She looked at me with unfriendly eyes, but when I told her Josie wanted to go outside, she tossed aside her oblong and marched out past me.
I found Josie in the hall, putting on her brown padded jacket, a favorite of hers. She sometimes also wore indoors when she was less well. "Hey, Clara, I can't believe you've been in this house all this time and never been out!"
"No, I've never been outside."
Josie looked at me for a second and said, "You mean you've never been outside? Not just outside here, but outside anywhere?"
"That's correct. I was in the store, then I came here."
"Wow, then this is going to be so great for you! There's nothing to be afraid of, right? No wild animals or anything? So come on, let's go!"
As Melania, housekeeper, opened the front door, I felt new air and the sun's nourishment entering the hall. Josie smiled at me, her face full of kindness, but then Melania, housekeeper, came between us and, before I was fully aware, had taken Josie's arm, tucking it under her own. Josie too was surprised by this, but didn't protest, and I appreciated that Melania, housekeeper, had concluded I might not be able to protect Josie reliably while outdoors due to my unfamiliarity. So the two of them went out together, and I followed.
We walked into the loose stones area, which I supposed had been kept deliberately rough for the car. The wind was mild and pleasant, and I wondered how it was the tall trees up on the hill were even then bending and waving under its push. But I soon had to concentrate on my feet because the loots loose stones area contained many dips, perhaps created by the car's wheels. The view before me was familiar from the bedroom front window. I continued to follow Josie and Melania, housekeeper, onto the road, which was smooth and hard like a floor, and we walked on it for some time. Even when cut grass appeared to either side, I wished to look back at the house to see it as a passer-by would and to confirm my estimates, but Josie and Melania, housekeeper, kept walking, their arms still linked, and I didn't dare to pause.
After a while, I no longer had to attend to my feet so carefully, and I looked up to see a grass mound rising to her left and the figure of a boy moving about near its summit. I estimated he was 15, though I couldn't be sure since his figure was a silhouette against the pale sky. Josie moved towards the mound, and Melania, housekeeper, said something I might have heard had we been indoors, but outside the sound behaved differently. In any case, I could see that see there was now a disagreement. I heard Josie say, "But I want Clara to meet him." There were further words I didn't hear, then Melania, housekeeper, said, "All right, but only short and free."
"Josie's arm. Come on, Clara," Josie said, turning to me. "Let's go up and meet Rick."
As we climbed the side of the green mound, Josie's breath became short, and she clung tightly to me. This meant I was only able to look back briefly, but I became aware that behind us was not just Josie's house, but a second house, standing further back in the fields, a neighbor house that wasn't visible from any of Josie's windows. I was eager to study the appearance of both houses, but had to concentrate on ensuring Josie came to no harm.
At the top of the hill, she stopped to recover her breath, but the boy didn't greet us or even look our way. He had in his hands a circular device and was looking at the sky between the two houses, where a group of birds was flying in formation, and I quickly realized these were machine birds. He kept his gaze on them, and when he touched his control, the birds responded by changing their pattern.
"Wow, they're beautiful," Josie said, through still short, though still short of breath. "Are they new?"
"Rick kept his gaze fixed on the birds, but said, "Those two on the end are new. You can tell they don't really match."
"The birds swooped till they were hovering directly above us."
"Yeah, but real birds don't all look the same, either," Josie said. "I suppose at least I've got the whole team taking the same commands now."
"Okay, Josie, watch this." The machine birds began to come down, landing one by one on the grass in front of us, but two remained in the air, and Rick, frowning, pressed his remote again. "God, still not right."
"But they look great, Ricky." Josie was standing surprisingly close to Rick, not actually touching him, but with hands raised just behind his back and left shoulder. "What these two need is a complete recalibration."
"Don't worry, you'll get it right. Hey, Ricky, you're remembering about Tuesday, right?"
"I'm remembering it, but look, Josie, I didn't say I was coming."
"Oh, come on, you agreed!"
"Like hell I agreed! Anyway, I don't think your guests will be so pleased. I'm hosting, so I can invite who I like, and Mom will be great about it."
"Come on, Rick, we've been through this enough. If we're serious about the plan, we need to do stuff like this together. You've got to be able to handle it just as well as me."
"And why should I have to face that crowd alone?"
"You won't be alone. You've got your AF now."
The last two birds had come down. He touched his remote, and they all went into sleep mode on the grass. "Oh God, I haven't even introduced you."
"Rick, this is Clara."
Rick went on concentrating on his remote and didn't look my way. "You said you never get an AF."
"He said, "That was a while ago. You said you'd never get one."
"Well, I changed my mind. Okay? Anyway, Claire is not any AF."
"Hey, Clara, say something to Rick."
"You said you'd never get one."
"Come on, Rick, we don't do everything we said when we were small. Why shouldn't I have an AF?" She had by now both hands on Rick's left shoulder, resting her weight there, as if trying to make him less tall and the two of them the same height. But Rick seemed not to mind her nearness. In fact, he seemed to think it normal, and the idea occurred to me that perhaps, in his own way, this boy was as important to Josie as was the mother, and that his aims and mine might in some way be almost parallel, and that I should observe him carefully to understand how he belonged within the pattern of Josie's life.
"It's very nice to meet you, Rick," I said. "I wonder if he lives in that neighbor house."
"It's strange, but I hadn't noticed such a house before."
"Yeah," he said, still not looking directly at me. "That's where I live. My Mom and me."
We then all turned to the view of the houses, and for the first time, I was really able to look at the exterior of Josie's house. It was slightly smaller, and its roof's edge edges a little sharper, but otherwise much as I'd estimated from the inside. The walls had been constructed from carefully overlapping boards, which had been painted and near white. The house itself was three separate boxes that connected into a simple, single complex shape. But Rick's house was smaller, and not just because it was further away. It too had been built from wooden planks, but its structure was more simple: a single box, taller than it was wide, standing in the grass.
"I think Rick and Josie must have grown up side by side," I said to Rick.
"Just like your houses." He shrugged. "Yeah, side by side."
"I think Rick's accent is English, just a little, perhaps. I'm happy Josie's had such a good friend. I hope my presence will never come in the way of such a good friendship."
"Hope not, but a lot of things come in the way of friendships. Okay, enough now," Melania, housekeeper's voice shouted from the foot of the mound.
"Coming!" Josie yelled back. Then she said to Rick, "Look, Ricky, I'm not going to enjoy this meeting any more than you. I need you there. You have to come."
Rick was concentrating again on his remote, and the birds rose together into the air. Josie watched them both, her hands still on his shoulder, so that the two of them forced formed a single shape against the sky.
"Okay, hurry up!" Melania, housekeeper, shouted. "Wind too strong. You want die up there or what?"
"Okay, coming then," Josie said quietly to Rick. "Tuesday lunchtime."
"Okay, okay. Good boy, Ricky. You promise now?" And Clara is a witness. Taking her hands from his shoulder, she stepped away. Then, grasping my arm, she began to lead us down off the mound. We descended a different slope from the one we climbed, which I saw would bring us down just in front of Josie's house. Its gradient was steeper, and down below, Melania, housekeeper, began to protest, then, giving up, harita rounds the mounds to meet us as we came down through the cut grass. I glanced back and saw Rick's figure once more, a silhouette against the sky. He wasn't looking our way, but up at his birds hovering in the grayness.
After we returned to the house and Josie had put away her padded jacket, Melania, housekeeper, made her a yogurt drink, and the two of us sat together at the island while she sipped through a straw. "Can't believe that's the first time you've been outside," she said. "So what did you think?"
"I liked it very much. The wind, the acoustics, everything was so interesting." Then I added, "And of course, it was wonderful to meet Rick."
Josie was pinching her straw close to close to where it emerged from her drink. "I guess he didn't make such a great impression."
"He gets awkward sometimes, but he's a special person. When I get sick, and I try to think of good things, I think about all the stuff we're do going to do together. He's definitely coming to that meeting."
That evening, as they often did during their supper, they turned down all the lights except those falling directly on the island itself. I was present, as Josie liked me to be, but wishing to give privacy, stood in the shadows, my face turned to the refrigerator. For several minutes, I listened to Josie and the mother making lighthearted remarks as they ate. Then, still maintaining her light manner, Josie asked, "Mom, if my grades are so good, do I really have to host this interaction meeting?"
"Sure you do, honey. It's not enough just being clever, you have to get along with others."
"I know how to get along with others, Mom, just not with this crowd."
"This crowd happens to be your peer group, and when you get to college, you'll have to deal with all by the time I got to college, I'd had years of being alongside other kids each and every day. But for you and your generation, it's going to be pretty tough unless you put in some work now. The kids who don't do well in college are always the ones who didn't attend enough meetings."
"College is a long way off, Mom."
"Not so long as you think." Then the mother said more gently, "Come on, honey, you can introduce Clara to your friends. They'd be excited to meet her."
"They're not my friends, Mom. And if I have to host this meeting, I want Rick there."
For a moment, there was a silence between behind me. Then the mother said, "Okay, we can certainly do that. But you think it's a bad idea, right?"
"No, not at all. Rick is a very good person, and he's our neighbor, so he's coming, right?"
"Only if he wants to come. It has to be his choice."
"So you think the other kids will be rude to him?"
"There was another way before," the mother said. "I don't see why they would be. If someone does have behave inappropriately, that'll only show how far behind they are. So no reason Rick can't come. The only reason, Josie, is if he doesn't want to."
Later on, in the bedroom, when it was just the two of us and Josie was lying in bed, ready to go to sleep, she said quietly, "I hope Rick does come to this awful party."
Despite the lateness, I was pleased she'd brought up the interaction meeting because I was uncertain about many aspects of it. "Yes, I hope so too," I said. "Will the other young people bring their AFs?"
"Uh-uh. Not the done thing. But the AF who lives in the house usually attends, especially if they're new, like you. They'll all want to inspect you."
"So Josie would wish me to be present?"
"Sure. I want you to be present. It might not be so great for you, though. These meetings stink, and that's the truth."