Klara and the Sun

by Kazuo Ishiguro

  ‘I’ll show you,’ she said, and tipped the box out. Many print photos of varying dimensions tumbled out onto the rug, some face up, others down. I understood that these were favorite images from Josie’s past, kept near her bed so she could cheer herself up viewing them whenever she wanted. Many of the images were now overlapping, but I could see they were mostly of Josie when younger. Some photos showed her with the Mother, some with Melania Housekeeper, others with people I didn’t know. Josie continued spreading them across the rug, then picked one up and smiled.

  ‘Morgan’s Falls,’ she said. ‘This is where we’re going on Sunday. What do you think?’

  She gave me the photo – I was by now kneeling beside her – and I saw a younger Josie sitting outdoors at a table made from rough wooden planks. Even the seating was planks, and sitting beside her was the Mother, less thin and with her hair cut shorter than now. I was interested to see a third figure at the table, a girl who I estimated as eleven years old, wearing a short jacket made of light cotton. Because the stranger girl was sitting with her back to the photographer, I couldn’t see her face. The Sun’s patterns were visible over them all, falling across the tabletop. Behind Josie and the Mother was a blurred black-and-white pattern. I inspected this carefully, then said:

  ‘This is a waterfall.’

  ‘Yup. You ever seen a waterfall, Klara?’

  ‘Yes. I saw one in a magazine at the store. And look! You’re eating, right in front of the waterfall.’

  ‘You can do that at Morgan’s Falls. Have lunch while the spray covers you. You’re eating your food then you realize your shirt’s soaked at the back.’

  ‘That can’t be good for you, Josie.’

  ‘It’s okay when it’s warm. But you’re right. On a chilly day, you have to sit further away. There’s plenty of seating though because people don’t know about Morgan’s Falls so much.’ She reached out a hand, and I returned the photo to her. She looked at it again and said, ‘Maybe it’s only me and Mom think it’s special. And that’s why it’s never crowded. But we always have a great day there.’

  ‘I do hope you’ll be strong enough this weekend.’

  ‘Sunday’s always the best day for Morgan’s Falls. There’s a good atmosphere on Sundays. It’s like the waterfall knows about it being a Day of Rest.’

  ‘Josie. Who is your companion in this photograph? The girl here with you and your mother?’

  ‘Oh…’ Her face became serious, then she said: ‘That’s Sal. My sister.’

  She let the photo fall on top of the others, then began to pass both hands over the images, moving them around the rug. I saw images of children – in fields, in playgrounds, outside buildings.

  ‘Yeah, my sister,’ she said again after a long time.

  ‘And where is Sal now?’

  ‘Sal died.’

  ‘How very sad.’

  Josie shrugged. ‘I don’t remember her much. I was small when it happened. It’s not like I miss her or anything.’

  ‘How sad. Do you know what happened?’

  ‘She got sick. Not the same sickness I have. Something much worse, and that’s why she died.’

  I thought Josie was searching for another photo with her sister’s image, but she suddenly gathered the prints together and put them back into the cardboard box.

  ‘You’re so going to love it up there, Klara. Here’s you, only once been outside, then suddenly you’re up there!’

  * * *

  —

  Josie became stronger each day, so that as the weekend approached there seemed no reason to suppose we wouldn’t be able to go to the waterfall. On the Friday evening, the Mother came home late – long after Josie had finished her supper – and called me into the kitchen. Josie had by then gone up to her room, and the kitchen was in near-darkness, with only the light from the hall to illuminate it. But the Mother seemed happy to stand there before the large windows, staring out into the night as she drank her wine. I stood near the refrigerator where I could hear its hum.

  ‘Klara,’ she said after a while. ‘Josie says you wish to come with us on Sunday. To Morgan’s Falls.’

  ‘If I wouldn’t be in the way, I’d very much like to come. I believe Josie also wishes me to come.’

  ‘She certainly does. Josie’s become very fond of you. And if I may say so, so have I.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure at first what I’d feel. Having you around, moving through the house all day. But Josie’s so much more calm, so much more cheerful since you got here.’

  ‘I’m so glad.’

  ‘You’re doing very well, Klara. I want you to know that.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘You’ll be fine up at Morgan’s Falls. Plenty of kids take their AFs up there. Even so, it goes without saying. You’ll need to look out, both for yourself and for Josie. The terrain can be unpredictable. And Josie sometimes gets overexcited in places like that.’

  ‘I understand. I’ll be cautious.’

  ‘Klara, are you happy here?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Curious thing to ask an AF. In fact, I don’t even know if that question makes sense. Do you miss that store?’

  She drank more wine and stepped towards me so I could see one side of her face in the light from the hall, though the other side, including most of her nose, stayed in shadow. The one eye I could see looked tired.

  ‘I sometimes think about the store,’ I said. ‘The view from the window. The other AFs. But not often. I’m very pleased to be here.’

  The Mother looked at me for a moment. Then she said: ‘It must be great. Not to miss things. Not to long to get back to something. Not to be looking back all the time. Everything must be so much more…’ She paused, then said: ‘Okay, Klara. So you’re with us Sunday. But remember what I said. We don’t want accidents up there.’

  * * *

  —

  There must have been signals all along, because although what happened that Sunday morning made me feel sadness later, and reminded me again how much I had still to learn, it didn’t come as a true surprise.

  By the Friday, Josie was confident she’d be well enough for the expedition and spent many moments trying on different outfits, and studying herself in the long mirror inside the wardrobe. Occasionally she’d ask me what I thought, and I’d smile and be as encouraging as I could. But I must even then have been aware of the signals because when I praised her appearance, I was always careful to hold something back.

  I knew already that Sunday breakfasts could become tense. On other mornings, even when the Mother stayed beyond her quick coffee, there was still the feeling that every exchange could be the last till the evening, and while this sometimes made both Josie and the Mother speak sharply to each other, the breakfast couldn’t become loaded with signals. But on a Sunday, when the Mother wasn’t about to go anywhere, there was the feeling that each question she asked could lead to an uncomfortable conversation. When I was still new in the house, I believed there were particular danger topics for Josie, and that if only the Mother could be prevented from finding routes to these topics, the Sunday breakfasts would remain comfortable. But on further observation, I saw that even if the danger topics were avoided – topics like Josie’s education assignments, or her social interaction scores – the uncomfortable feeling could still be there because it really had to do with something beneath these topics; that the danger topics were themselves ways the Mother had devised to make certain emotions appear inside Josie’s mind.

  So I became concerned when, on that Sunday morning of the trip to Morgan’s Falls, the Mother asked Josie why she liked to play a particular oblong game in which the characters continually died in car accidents. Josie had at first replied cheerfully: ‘It’s just the way the game’s set up, Mom. You get more an
d more of your people in the superbus, but if you haven’t figured out the routes, you can lose all your best people in a crash.’

  ‘Why would you play a game like that, Josie? A game in which something awful like that happens?’

  Josie continued for a while to answer the Mother patiently, but before long the smile left her voice. In the end she was repeating that it was just a game she enjoyed, while the Mother asked more and more questions about it and seemed to become angry.

  Then the Mother’s anger seemed all at once to vanish. She still didn’t become cheerful, but she looked at Josie in a gentle way, and her kind smile transformed her entire face.

  ‘I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t be bringing this up today. I’m being so unfair.’

  And she stepped off her highstool, went to the one Josie was on and held Josie in an embrace that seemed to go on and on, until the Mother was obliged to introduce a rocking motion to disguise how long it was lasting. Josie, I could see, didn’t mind at all how long the hug lasted, and when they separated – I didn’t turn from the refrigerator until I was sure they had – the rift between them had been mended.

  So the breakfast I’d feared might pose a last obstacle to our going to Morgan’s Falls ended in harmony, and my mind became filled with excitement. Only in the final moments, after the Mother and Melania Housekeeper had already gone out to the car, did I see Josie, as she placed her arms through the sleeves of her padded jacket, pause and allow weariness to pass through her. She finished putting on the jacket, and noticing me across the hall, smiled brightly. Then we heard the car outside and the wheels moving over the loose stones. Melania Housekeeper came back into the house holding her keys and gestured for us to go out. But now that I was aware, I was able to see another tiny signal, something in Josie’s hurried step as she walked ahead of me out onto the loose stones.

  The Mother was behind the wheel, watching us through the windshield, and a fear came into my mind. But Josie betrayed no more signs – she even managed a skip of happiness as she crossed the loose stones – and opened the front passenger door by herself.

  I’d never been inside a car before, but Rosa and I had watched so many people get in and out of vehicles, their postures and maneuvers, how they sat once the vehicles began to move, that there was nothing that came as a surprise to me as I navigated into my rear seat. The cushion was softer than I’d expected, and the seat in front, the one Josie was now in, was very close so I could hardly see at all in front of me, but I created no delay. I had no time to make detailed observations of the car’s interior because I became aware that the uncomfortable atmosphere had returned. In the front, Josie was silent, looking away from the Mother beside her, gazing towards the house and Melania Housekeeper coming across the loose stones carrying the shapeless bag that contained, among other things, Josie’s emergency medicines. The Mother had both hands on the steering wheel as though eager to set off, and her head was turned in the same direction as Josie’s, but I could tell the Mother wasn’t looking at Melania Housekeeper’s approach, or at the house, but straight at Josie herself. The Mother’s eyes had grown large, and because the Mother’s face was especially thin and bony, the eyes appeared even larger than they were. Melania Housekeeper put the shapeless bag in the trunk and thumped down the lid. Then she opened the rear door on her side and slid into the seat next to mine. She said to me:

  ‘AF. Strap on belt. Or you get damaged.’

  I was trying to understand the belt system, which I’d seen so many car passengers operating, when the Mother said:

  ‘You think you have me fooled, don’t you, girl?’

  There was a silence, then Josie asked: ‘What are you saying, Mom?’

  ‘You can’t hide it. You’re sick again.’

  ‘I’m not sick, Mom. I’m fine.’

  ‘Why do you do this to me, Josie? Always. Why does it have to be this way?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re saying, Mom.’

  ‘You think I don’t look forward to a trip like this? My one free day with my daughter. A daughter I happen to love very dearly, who tells me she’s fine when she’s really feeling sick?’

  ‘That’s not true, Mom. I really am fine.’

  But I could hear the change in Josie’s voice. It was as if the effort she’d been making until this point had been abandoned, and she was suddenly exhausted.

  ‘Why do you pretend, Josie? You think it doesn’t hurt me?’

  ‘Mom, I swear I’m fine. Please drive us. Klara’s never been to a waterfall and she’s so looking forward to it.’

  ‘Klara’s looking forward to it?’

  ‘Mom, please.’

  ‘Melania,’ the Mother said, ‘Josie needs assistance. Get out the car. Go round her side, please, and help her. She may fall if she tries to get out herself.’

  There was silence again.

  ‘Melania? What’s up back there? Are you sick too?’

  ‘Maybe Miss Josie make it.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I help her. AF too. Miss Josie all right. Maybe.’

  ‘Let me get this right. Is this your assessment? That my daughter is well enough to spend the day out? At the falls? This gives me concern about you, Melania.’

  Melania Housekeeper was silent, but still she didn’t move.

  ‘Melania? Am I to understand you’re refusing to get out to help Josie disembark?’

  Melania Housekeeper was looking out between the front seats at the road ahead. Her face looked puzzled, like something further up the hill was hard to identify. Then suddenly she opened her door and got out.

  ‘Mom,’ Josie said. ‘Please can we go? Please don’t do this.’

  ‘Do you think I like this? Any of this? Okay, you’re sick. That’s not your fault. But not telling anyone. Keeping it to yourself this way, so we all get in the car, the whole day before us. That’s not nice, Josie.’

  ‘It’s not nice you telling me I’m sick when I’m easily strong enough…’

  Melania Housekeeper opened the door beside Josie from the outside. Josie fell silent, then her face, full of sadness, looked round the edge of the car seat at me.

  ‘I’m sorry, Klara. We’ll go another time. I promise. I’m really so sorry.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘We must do what’s best for Josie.’

  I was about to get out also, but then the Mother said:

  ‘Just a second, Klara. Like Josie says. You were looking forward to this. Well, why don’t you stay right where you are?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand.’

  ‘Well, it’s simple. Josie’s too sick to go. She might have told us that earlier, but she chose not to. Okay, so she stays behind. Melania too. But no reason, Klara, why you and I can’t still go.’

  I couldn’t see the Mother’s face because the seat backs were high. But Josie’s face was still peering round the edge of her seat at me. Her eyes had become dull, as if they no longer cared what they saw.

  ‘Okay, Melania,’ the Mother said in a louder voice. ‘Help Josie out. Careful with her. She’s sick, remember.’

  ‘Klara?’ Josie said. ‘Are you really going with her to the falls?’

  ‘The Mother’s suggestion is very kind,’ I said. ‘But perhaps it would be best if this time…’

  ‘Hold on, Klara,’ the Mother cut in. Then she said: ‘What is this, Josie? One moment you’re concerned about Klara, how she’s never seen a waterfall. Now you’re trying to make her stay home?’

  Josie went on looking at me, and Melania Housekeeper continued to stand outside the car, a hand held out for Josie to take. Finally Josie said:

  ‘Okay. Maybe you should go, Klara. You and Mom. What’s the sense in the whole day getting spoiled just because…I’m sorry. Sorry I’m sick all the time. I don’t know why…’ I thought tears would come then,
but she held them back and went on quietly: ‘Sorry, Mom. I really am. I must be such a downer. Klara, you go on. You’ll love the waterfall.’ Then her face disappeared from the edge of the seat.

  For a second I was uncertain what to do. Both the Mother and Josie had now expressed the view that I should remain in the car and go on the outing. And I could see how likely it was, if I were to do so, that I would gain new, perhaps crucial insights concerning Josie’s situation, and how I might best help her. And yet her sadness, as she walked back over the loose stones, was very clear. Her walk, now she had nothing to hide, was fragile, and she made no fuss about receiving Melania Housekeeper’s support.

  We watched Melania Housekeeper unlock the front door and the two of them go inside. Then the Mother started the car and we began to move.

  * * *

  —

  Because it was my first time inside a car, I couldn’t make a good estimate of our speed. It seemed to me the Mother drove unusually fast, and for a moment fear came into my mind, but I remembered she drove up the same hill every day, and so wasn’t likely to cause dangers. I concentrated on the trees rushing by, and the large openings that would suddenly appear on one side then the other, through which I could see treetops from above. Then the road was no longer climbing, and the car crossed a large field, empty except for a barn in the far distance quite like the one visible from Josie’s window.

  Then the Mother spoke for the first time. Because she was driving, she didn’t turn to me in the back, and if I hadn’t been the only one present inside the vehicle, I might not have guessed she was addressing me.

  ‘They always do this. Toy with your feelings.’ Then a moment later she said: ‘Maybe it looks like I’m being hard. But how else will they learn? They have to learn we have feelings too.’ Then a while later: ‘Does she think I like being away from her, day after fucking day?’

  There were now other cars, and unlike outside the store, they were traveling in both directions. One would appear in the far distance and come speeding towards us, but the drivers never made errors and always managed to miss us. Soon the scenes were changing so rapidly around me I had difficulty ordering them. At one stage a box became filled with the other cars, while the boxes immediately beside it filled with segments of road and surrounding field. I did my best to preserve the smooth line of the road as it moved from one box into the next, but with the view constantly changing, I decided this wasn’t possible, and allowed the road to break and start afresh each time it crossed a border. Despite all these problems, the scope of the view and the hugeness of the sky were very exciting. The Sun was often behind clouds, but I sometimes saw his patterns falling right the way across a valley or sweep of land.